My Existence in Gaza: 'We Used Our Edition of Nineteen Eighty-Four to Make Food. How Would Orwell Say of Us Today?'
Karim, a trained nurse in his twenties, is originally from the heart of Gaza. Until the recent evacuation directive from Israeli authorities, he lived amid the destruction of his family house alongside his parents and brothers. He has now been displaced over a dozen times due to the war and escaped an aerial bombardment in Rafah. He kept a journal over the past month.
17 August 2025
Following 24 months, I've abandoned optimism. I don't believe the reports about the war ending. My dad insists we must relocate to Deir al-Balah soon, prior to they evict us again. If it were another group, the United Nations might have intervened. But for Palestinians, nothing. Now they talk about relocating us to South Sudan – a country racked by civil war, already full of displaced people. There are 2 million of us, trapped in under 20 square kilometers, just facing gradual death. And the international community will remain indifferent. An ex-prime minister once said, "We will perhaps in time pardon the Arabs for killing our sons, but it will be more difficult for us to excuse them for making us to kill their sons." That sums it up. Sometimes, I think Israel ought to be analyzed by mental health experts – maybe then the world would finally understand the insanity we endure.
August 18, 2025
I caught a ride to Deir al-Balah with a friend – it seemed like an act of daring: cars altered to carry extra people, trailers clinging on like lifeboats. You cling tightly with everything you have, because if you fail, you could fall into the exposed street and be lost.
Near a central roundabout I saw a "hizam nari" – a ribbon of fire across the sky. Fighter jets created a trail of blasts above Gaza City, one after another; ash clouds rose and all beneath was erased. I counted five, six rockets – then stopped counting because it seemed pointless. I have to find refuge for my loved ones – an apartment, a shed, any small place. My thoughts wander, I lose track, I miss appointments – the turmoil takes them away. All I feel is a tight, small panic and the empty wish that we will still be here the next day.
August 19, 2025
The day before, I at last succeeded to get a storage space – around $400, about £335 a 30 days. That's the cheapest you can find, because demand is high while houses and buildings are bombed to the ground. This "shelter" has barely any cover. The landlord even offered me a small flat for 2,500 shekels – honestly, not even a flat in the UAE costs that much. In conflicts and emergencies people grow hostile, more selfish, eager to profit from others' misery. And maybe that's "typical", or instead the expected behaviour of someone who has endured 24 months of eviction, removal, starvation – especially inside the world's largest prison.
So I started arranging my temporary dwelling – sweeping, organizing, trying to make it livable. I cannot allow myself even a moment to think about my previous bedroom before the genocide, my box-spring bed, my gaming desk, the cooling unit, our house … I cannot let longing to take over. I just continue forward. Onward, onward – never looking back.
28 August 2025
For a week now I've been without my parents. Regardless of what my father first stated, they cling to hope – or to refusal – believing that all the negotiations between the Qataris, Americans, Egyptians and Israelis means Gaza City won't be evacuated. So they decline to move. For 24 months the global powers has acted arbitrarily while we suffer, and we grasp the smallest, most obvious lies – the little straws that allow us to survive. The harsh reality is the Israelis were never coy about their objectives: "We'll annihilate Gaza." They succeeded. "We will resettle you." They accomplished that. "We'll block supplies." They did. "We will enter Rafah." All eyes turned there. A US leader objected – they did it anyway. What comes next? My hometown. It will be cleared, become a wasteland like Rafah. I'm stealing a few quiet days now – a brief, fragile peace I've earned.
9 September 2025
My parents are finally with me. We turned the garage into a home – areas, a small personal zone. Naturally the walls are just vinyl sheets. I managed to get online for a short time. It has reached this point: the armed forces has issued a forced displacement order for the entire northern region, including the western part. Residents have no energy, no money, no will to leave their homes – numerous individuals would prefer death than depart.
This day our neighbour informed us the Israelis even bombed a Gulf state. OMG. They have no limits any more. Qatar – with the biggest US installation in the region – was allegedly struck by a power associated with the United States. I think it's obvious what comes next and what it means for Gaza's people: systematic destruction until the last breath. They've been granted free rein.
September 15, 2025
My mom's special day – one more quiet celebration under inhuman circumstances. Things have eased a bit, but this is not the life we were meant to live. My device displayed photos from her birthday in 2022: a homemade cake and my preferred American treat. I recall presenting her Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell – we used it as fuel for bread at the end of 2023 because we had no gas or wood to bake. How would the writer think of us now? I prefer to think he'd understand our actions. I wiped my tears in private and kept going. The central area is getting more crowded. Individuals are worn out: they wish to live, but a lot feel they already have.
I held my mother's hand, kissed it, and murmured "Best wishes". She has been unwell for days. I wrote her a letter and said sorry because I lack a penny for a cake (which would be priced at seventy dollars) or any present.
21 September 2025
Nations like the United Kingdom and Australia have recognised Palestine as a state – what's the reason and to what end? Israel continues to bomb us, the genocide goes on. But currently we can officially die as a recognized nation, we possess sovereignty. What a comfort.
Following immense hardship, so many countries that have denied for nearly two years that the organized eradication of a people was occurring in Gaza are suddenly speaking up. Celebrities and artists participate because it's become mainstream. Previously, people would dismiss and say, "Oh no, I don't know enough about the Middle East, it's too sensitive for me to speak." Two-faced individuals.
September 25, 2025
Identical harsh pattern, every single day – individuals perish from hunger, from debility, from the missiles that continuously fall. A individual not far from us passed away lately. At first I assumed it must have been the usual horror – a raid, a random shot. But no. He just fell. His heart stopped. I remain shocked how mundane his passing seemed, how quickly a life can disappear and leave only a empty quiet. I was stunned, like I'd been desensitized to this type of tragedy and suddenly woke up.
My daily routine is a guide to staying alive: fetch water, {scavenge for