A young man named Karim, a trained nurse in his twenties, is originally from Gaza City. Until the latest forced displacement order issued by Israel, he lived in the ruins of his former home alongside his mother, father, and siblings. He has now been displaced over a dozen times due to the war and escaped an Israeli strike in southern Gaza. He maintained a journal over the last few weeks.
August 17, 2025
After two years, I've lost all hope. I don't believe the news about a ceasefire. My father says we must relocate to Deir al-Balah soon, prior to they evict us once more. If it were anyone else, the United Nations would have stepped in. But for us, nothing. Now they propose relocating us to South Sudan – a country racked by internal conflict, already full of refugees. There are 2 million of us, confined in under 20 square kilometers, just waiting to die slowly. And the world will shrug. An ex-prime minister remarked, "Maybe we can eventually forgive the Palestinians for taking our children's lives, but it will be more difficult for us to excuse them for making us to kill their sons." That sums it up. At times, I think the state ought to be analyzed by psychologists – maybe then the global audience would grasp the insanity we endure.
August 18, 2025
I caught a ride to the central area with a acquaintance – it felt like an bold move: vehicles modified to transport more passengers, trailers clinging on like lifeboats. You hold on with everything you have, because if you don't, you could fall into the open road and be lost.
Close to al-Nabulsi Square I saw a "hizam nari" – a ribbon of fire across the heavens. Fighter jets created a trail of explosions above the northern area, one after another; ash clouds ascended and everything below them was erased. I counted several missiles – then gave up counting because counting felt useless. I have to find refuge for my loved ones – an flat, a garage, any small place. My thoughts wander, I forget things, I forget plans – the turmoil steals them. All I feel is a constant anxiety and the hollow hope that we will still be here the next day.
August 19, 2025
The day before, I at last succeeded to get a garage – around $400, about £335 a month. That's the most affordable you can locate, because demand is high while homes and structures are destroyed completely. This "garage" has barely any cover. The owner even proposed a tiny apartment for over $600 – honestly, even a luxury apartment in Dubai costs that much. In wars and crises people grow hostile, self-centered, looking to benefit from the suffering of others. And perhaps that's "normal", or instead the predictable conduct of someone who has endured two years of eviction, expulsion, starvation – particularly inside the world's largest prison.
So I began setting up my temporary dwelling – sweeping, organizing, attempting to create a habitable space. I cannot allow myself even a moment to reflect on my previous bedroom prior to the violence, my comfortable mattress, my computer station, the cooling unit, our home … I must not allow longing to consume me. I just continue forward. Forward, forward – without glancing behind.
28 August 2025
For a week now I've been without my parents. Despite what my father first stated, they cling to hope – or to denial – thinking that all the negotiations between the Qataris, Americans, Egyptians and Israelis means the northern region won't be evacuated. So they decline to move. For two years the global powers has acted arbitrarily while we suffer, and we clutch at the smallest, most obvious lies – the little straws that allow us to survive. The cruel truth is the Israelis were always clear about their objectives: "We will destroy Gaza." They succeeded. "We will resettle you." They accomplished that. "We'll block supplies." They implemented that. "We'll invade Rafah." All attention focused there. The American president said no – they proceeded regardless. What comes next? Gaza City. It will be emptied, become a wasteland like Rafah. I'm taking a brief respite now – a temporary calm I've earned.
September 9, 2025
My parents are at last with me. We converted the space into a dwelling – rooms, a small personal zone. Naturally the barriers are just plastic tarpaulins. I managed to get the internet for a short time. It has come to this: the military released a mandatory evacuation notice for all of Gaza City, including the west side. Residents have no energy, penniless, no desire to leave their homes – many would rather die than depart.
This afternoon our neighbour informed us the Israelis attacked a Gulf state. Oh my god. They have no limits any more. Qatar – with the largest American military base in the Middle East – was allegedly struck by a power associated with the US. I think it's obvious what comes next and what it means for Gaza's people: genocide to the very end. They've been granted free rein.
15 September 2025
My mother's birthday – another modest observance under brutal conditions. 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 favourite New York cheesecake. I remember giving her Nineteen Eighty-Four by the author – we burned it for bread at the conclusion of that year because we had no gas or wood to bake. What would the writer feel of us today? I like to imagine he'd understand our actions. I dried my eyes in private and kept going. The central area is getting fuller and fuller. Individuals are exhausted: they don't want to die, but a lot believe they are already dead.
I held my mother's hand, touched it lovingly, and whispered "Happy birthday". She has been sick for days. I wrote her a letter and said sorry because I lack a single cent for a dessert (which would be priced at seventy dollars) or even a small gift.
21 September 2025
Countries like the UK and the island continent have acknowledged Palestine as a sovereign entity – why now and to what end? The state keeps attacking us, the atrocities goes on. But now we can legally perish as a recognized nation, we possess sovereignty. What a comfort.
After all this suffering, numerous nations that have rejected for nearly two years that the organized eradication of a population was taking place in the territory are suddenly speaking up. Celebrities and artists join in because it's now popular. Previously, people would dismiss and say, "Oh no, I don't know enough about the Middle East, it's too sensitive for me to comment." Two-faced individuals.
25 September 2025
Same cruel routine, day after day – people die from starvation, from weakness, from the missiles that continuously fall. A man nearby died recently. At first I thought it must have been the usual horror – a raid, a stray bullet. But no. He just fell. His heart stopped. I remain shocked how mundane his passing seemed, how rapidly a existence can disappear and result in a hollow silence. I was numbed, like I'd been anaesthetised to this type of tragedy and suddenly woke up.
My daily routine is a guide to staying alive: collect drinking water, {scavenge for
