We Are Sentenced to Live Like This: A Guide
# A Family’s Fifth displacement: Hunger and Humiliation in Deir al-Balah
Ghada abdulfattah
Asala, Mohammad, and their five children
the weight of displacement has settled heavily on Asala and Mohammad, and their five children. for them, the conflict in Gaza isn’t a breaking news story; it’s a relentless cycle of loss, fear, and a desperate search for basic survival. this is the fifth time they’ve been forced to flee their home, each move stripping away another layer of normalcy and dignity. Currently, they exist within a fragile shelter constructed of plastic and tarp on the outskirts of Deir al-Balah, a makeshift haven offering little protection from the elements – or the ever-present threat of further upheaval.
## The Relentless Cycle of Displacement
Their journey began in Wadi As-Salqa, southeast of Deir al-Balah.From there, they sought refuge in a school on Salah al-Din road, then moved to Mashala, west of Deir al-Balah, and subsequently to Khan Younis. Each relocation was driven by escalating violence, a desperate attempt to find safety that proved perpetually elusive. Now, their current location, a patch of land near a displacement zone in southwest Deir al-Balah, offers only temporary respite. Israeli military operations took place in the area from July 20 to 22, a stark reminder of the precariousness of their situation.
“Shrapnel has come to us,” Asala recounted, her voice laced with anxiety. The dangers aren’t abstract; they are immediate and terrifying. A child in a neighboring tent was recently injured, a chilling reminder of the risks they face daily. “I worry every day they will order us to leave again,” she confessed. “Where will we go?” This question hangs heavy in the air, a testament to the dwindling options and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness.
## Memories of a Life Lost, and the Hunger of Today
Amidst the hardship, Asala clings to memories of a life that feels increasingly distant. She speaks of Fridays, once a cherished family tradition. “My husband brought fish. We cooked chicken. The children remind me of that,” she said, a wistful tone coloring her words. These recollections aren’t merely nostalgic; they represent a profound loss – the loss of stability, security, and the simple joys of family life.
Her children, too, remember the past. Suhaib, once a promising student, continues to ask for a laptop, a symbol of his yearning for education and a future that seems increasingly uncertain. Layan dreams of university, a goal that feels impossibly out of reach. These aspirations, once vibrant and attainable, are now overshadowed by the harsh realities of their present circumstances.
The immediate concern, however, is food. As evening descends, the children’s hunger becomes a chorus of pleas. Asala attempts to quiet Nada with water and distract the others, offering empty promises of a “tikkiya” – a charitable kitchen – or aid from the camp committee. In recent weeks, she has repeatedly walked to neighboring tents, desperately seeking a spare loaf of bread, only to be met with the same disheartening response: “no.”
## The Scramble for Aid and the Weight of Humiliation
Mohammad tirelessly seeks aid,joining the throngs of men who follow trucks carrying supplies for organizations like the World Food Program. He frequently enough returns empty-handed, his efforts thwarted by the sheer desperation of the crowds. Asala, driven by her maternal instinct, has secretly followed him, yearning to bring something – anything - home.
“I just want to bring something home,” she explained, describing the chaotic and dangerous scramble for aid.”Some bring sticks. Some guns.” Once, Mohammad returned with a few crushed cans of tomato paste salvaged from the ground, contaminated with sand. “They were cracked open and mixed with sand.I took it anyway,” Asala said, highlighting the lengths to which they are willing to go to provide for their children.
The scenes surrounding airdrops are equally desperate. On Wednesday, Suhaib and Yusuf raced towards a descending parachute, pleading for assistance: “Throw something here! Throw something here!” But nothing came. Asala, too, joined the frantic