Gaza-based Palestinian actor and director Hossam Almadhoun inaugurates his blog on Mediapart with the news that he was forced to purchase a bag of flour for five times its normal price. He elaborately describes the day-to-day lives of the people in Gaza and their condition under the siege and constant bombardment, day and night.
**December 5: The Butterfly Effect**
The writer narrates how he managed to obtain a sack of flour sufficient to feed 18 people in his household for two weeks. He hopes to procure half a gas bottle for cooking, enough for ten days, at three times the original price. With the situation dire, people have begun cutting down live trees for firewood. He concludes the grim reality that poor Gaza may soon be devoid of trees—olive trees have been cut down, and street trees have all been uprooted, as desperate circumstances always drive people to take desperate measures.
On his way back from the market, in a wooden cart pulled by a weak, emaciated donkey, the author describes a small white butterfly fluttering alongside. The sight pleases him before he remembers that, in some cultures, a white butterfly is a symbol of imminent death. “Although I don’t believe in these superstitions, the thought hasn’t escaped me,” he says. “Last night, more than 500 humans perished across Gaza, from north to south, most of them women and children. As I write these lines, the shelling and artillery fire continue around me, hundreds are being killed, and perhaps my family and I might be part of them, who knows? More than 22,000 people who were killed during the days of the war thus far did not know they would meet such a brutal end.”
**December 9: Shelter or Market?**
The Oxford English Dictionary defines shelter as “a structure that provides protection from rain, wind, or sun and broadly anything serving as a screen or shelter from bad weather.” However, the definition of a shelter in Gaza differs—it’s a two-story building with three rows of classrooms and a front yard for students to play. Due to numerous military attacks on Gaza, UNRWA has designated several schools as wartime shelters. They have installed solar panels, water wells, and 14 toilets per school, prepared to accommodate between 900 and 1000 displaced persons. Out of 400 schools in Gaza, about 65 were ready to serve as shelters, but now, all 400 have become refuges, each hosting more than 5000 people of all walks of life. They’ve constructed tents from fabric, plastic covers, or blankets. Amid these packed crowds, people light fires to cook their food, creating smoke clouds. Hundreds queue outside the toilets, children relieve themselves between the tents or by the school wall, and taking a bath seems an unattainable dream for weeks. Water-borne diseases and skin infections among the elderly and children are rampant. At night, classrooms are dedicated to women and children, while men spend the night outside.
**December 10: The Onset of Famine**
With markets destroyed or closed and supplies running out, food distribution by UNRWA in some schools is the only source of sustenance for many. Now, people occupy all UNRWA schools, government schools, sports clubs, colleges, and universities that haven’t been destroyed yet, as well as all the streets. Still, what about biscuits, ice cream, chocolate, candies, dairy products, pastries, cakes, chewing gum, fruit of all kinds, coffee, cooking gas, vehicle fuel, electric generators, clothing, mattresses, blankets, carpets, plastic covers, eggs, and fruit juices?
**December 12: The Angry Mother and the Expert Child**
The blogger describes how his 83-year old bedridden mother is angry at him for not being able to return home, not grasping the impossibility since they left their house in Gaza on October 12 and came to the “middle-of-gaza” camp. He recounts numerous attempts to explain that the Israeli army has isolated Gaza and the North by cutting off the road at Netsarim Junction between North Gaza and the central region. His mother is unconvinced, feeling robbed of her daily visits from family. The son laments his inability to magically fulfill his mother’s wishes for fruit, sweets, and coffee or to magically fix the communications network. “Sorry, mother, forgive me, for I am a bad son,” he concludes.
Furthermore, the blogger and his wife Abeer, working for a humanitarian organization, manage a team offering support and rehabilitation in the central Gaza shelters. They’ve been provided a space equipped with electricity and internet by Dr. Rafat Al-Aidy, the director of Al-Wafa Hospital in “middle-of-gaza” camp, to facilitate their organizational tasks. On a day’s trip to the market in search of necessities, they hear a massive explosion that startles them. A cart driver, a child named Ahmad, assures them that the blast is at least a kilometer to the south; his ease with the sounds of war is unsettling. Ahmad says, “Do as we do now, stay and live.”
