We are just waiting to die: Songs of death, despair from Gazans on the ground

Though the world's attention on Gaza has renewed in the last two weeks, the voices of those on the ground remain muffled.

Without fuel and electricity, it has become increasingly difficult for residents to even keep their devices charged, let alone reach the outside world.

While many international journalists are based in Israel, only a few foreign media are present in Gaza.

Gaza-based Palestinian reporters such as Noor Harazeen is one of the few journlalists who is simultaneously covering and living the story.

"I try to be as professional as possible, just so no one can say that because I am a Palestinian journalist, I am taking the Palestinian side, and spreading lies," she told Time.

"I try as much as I can to hold my tears back, but in some cases, I can't do that."

In an article published by Time titled "Our Death Is Pending. Stories of Loss and Grief From Gaza", some of the tales of the residents are captured in vivid, moving details.

Afaf Alnajjar, 21

Student

Afaf Alnajjar, a Palestinian student studying English literature at the Islamic University of Gaza, fled to Khan Younis in the south with her family.

"I'm a new bride-to-be. I just got engaged a week before the attack. My engagement party was supposed to be this past Thursday, the day before we had to evacuate from the hotel.

"I had everything prepared. And then suddenly, in the blink of an eye, everything is shattered".

She said on 7 October, her family woke up to the sounds of rockets. They decided to go to a hotel that was supposed to be safe because it had something called "UN clearance."

They stayed in the hotel for four or five days. Then the situation worsened.

Entire neighborhoods around the hotel were wiped out and completely destroyed by airstrikes.

Doors fell, some of the windows shattered, the ceilings also fell.

Then they were told to move to the south of the Gaza Strip.

It took three hours to find a taxi that was willing to go to Khan Younis.

"We haven't had any water in the house since Friday night. We haven't had any electricity. We use car batteries to have the internet on and we have to take our phones and charge them in nearby shops or in our neighborus' homes who have solar energy," Afaf said.

Afaf Alnajjar told Time, "I have to sleep every single night with the thought that I might wake up under rubble, if I ever wake up. My mom has to sit my 11-year-old brother down and tell him how to deal with the situation if he finds himself under the rubble.

"I've reached a point where I can't dream of anything but war and destruction. I've started hearing voices, I've started seeing things. It feels like we're just waiting for our turn. It seems like we're dead, but our death is pending. It's on pause until an airstrike comes and attacks us."

Nihal Alami, 33

Translator at Palestinian Center for Human Rights

Nihal Alami, a translator at the Palestinian Center for Human Rights, spoke to Time on 18 October.

"I was born in Gaza City and have grown up under an Israeli blockade depriving us of all our basic human rights. What I want the world to know is that things in Gaza did not start on 7 October and it is not a war against Hamas. Israel has collectively punished us for 16 years. If Israel is actually launching a war against Hamas, then why does it close all crossings and deny entry of humanitarian aid and other basic supplies to the civilian population?"

Now evacuated to Khan Younis in southern Gaza with her family, Nihal  is disappointed by the world's inaction and silence toward the Israeli crimes. 

"'We are very frightened, feeling that death is very near and fearing the unknown," Nihal told Time.

Rawan Hassan, 23,

English language teacher in Rafah

"All the time the children are crying. They live with fear. I hope that the international community will stand with us. I have many friends in America, the UK and Canada. I have been trying to tell my friends there about what is happening because it is my duty to support my community and my people. ...We have to be strong in front of our children. I just pretend everything is OK."

Tala Herzallah, 21 

University student

Tala's university and workplace are completely destroyed.

She doesn't know what the future holds, a sentiment shared by millions in Gaza.

"'Now I'm stuck in the middle of Gaza City with my brother, his wife, his children, my mother, and my father... We are just counting our days. Let me not say days, but minutes, till death. Because each minute we may die, we may be killed. I lost my cousin and her children. I lost my friend. I'm losing my beloved.

"Even if we are now alive, even if Gazans are alive, we are dead inside. No one can laugh, no one can sing, no one can talk. We don't have the ability or the energy to do anything in our lives. We're just waiting to die.'

''We don't have a Plan B. We just don't want to lose more people, more houses, more markets. I hope that we'll stay alive, not because I want life, but because I want to tell our stories. The stories of our people. People have to know more about Palestinian history, and our suffering. We have been suffering since 1948. All we want to do is defend ourselves and our land."

Karim Abualroos, 27

Palestinian writer, researcher, and human rights activist

"I was born in Gaza and studied there. I left Gaza as many young people do looking for a new life. I live in Belgium now with my wife. who is also a writer, and our son. The rest of my family though is still in Gaza under bombardment, where there is no safe place.

"Israel killed my sister Hadeel Abu Alroos, a public school teacher, her husband Basil Khayyat, a public roads engineer, her daughters Eileen and Celine, and her sons Muhammad and Mahmoud. They were safe in their home. Israel bombed their home without warning and without guilt. Since hearing the news of their death, I checked the videos I have of my sister's daughters. In all the videos, my nieces were dancing. They loved dancing."'

Ghada Ageel, 52, 

Professor currently in Canada

''My family is in the Gaza Strip. Only me, my husband, and two children are here in Canada. My brothers, my sisters, my neighbours, my friends, my aunts – everyone is there. I haven't been able to communicate with them over the past three days.

''My cousin Hebba Abu Shammala was killed Thursday morning with her two kids. Hebba is a fourth-generation Palestinian refugee. She just got married four years ago. They lived in Khan Younis refugee camp in a very modest home. She called her mother Halima two days before and told her to come to her home. She also said 'if we die, we die together'. She was laughing and her mom said 'no, no, you should come and stay with us.' But Hebba thought it was going to be safer because it's not a border area. It's not next to any government buildings that might be a target. There's no safe place in Gaza now."

Noor Harazeen, 33

Palestinian Journalist

"My journey getting to southern Gaza after the evacuation order was actually easier than others. I was lucky enough to have a taxi to transport me. I had money to pay and rent a place in southern Gaza. It was hard on me to evacuate, especially with my kids and trying to gather as much as I can but I was actually lucky looking at the other people. When I was in the car I saw people taking that route on their feet with their children and they were taking blankets and food. It was such a sad thing to see.  I felt that I was such a lucky person.

"We also have other challenges. There is no wifi. There is no electricity. There is no fuel. I've been staying here in Shuhada'a Al Aqsa hospital in Deir al-Balah taking shelter for four days now. I can't move around because there are airstrikes everywhere.

The biggest challenge, as a Gazan journalist, is to stay calm and try to hold back my tears. I try to be as professional as possible so no one can say that because I am a Palestinian journalist I am taking the Palestinian side and spreading lies. But in some cases, I can't do that. Two days ago, Israeli warplanes targeted two buildings in Deir Al-Balah at the same time. People died. Many of them were children and I saw things that I have never, ever seen before. Some of the children reminded me of my kids. I have two kids, they are twins and they are both 5 years old. They don't fully understand what is going on. They think we are taking a trip or something. But they are strong. So this is why it became really emotional for me.