Ghada Akeel, a third-generation Palestinian refugee and currently a visiting professor in the Political Science department at the University of Alberta in Canada, weighs in on what she describes as her family’s impossible choice after being evacuated from their refugee camp in Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip. Their home was severely damaged, and the subsequent Israeli airstrike on October 26, 2023, resulted in the martyrdom of 36 of her relatives.
In her piece for the British newspaper “The Guardian,” Ghada recounts how the surviving family members clung to the small sense of security they felt there and continued living in the damaged house regardless. Then, on Christmas Day, terrifying news fell from the sky written on leaflets with evacuation instructions.
According to the author, the perennial Palestinian question springs to mind: “Where can we go?” Her siblings and their families had no time to think. For them, moments like these are not a clear choice between life and death but worse – it’s choosing between dying in one place or another, questioning whether to stay in their homes and face certain death together or to leave and possibly die apart in a strange place.
Ghada points out that many witnessed the genocide unfolding before their eyes and preferred to stay in their homes and die with their families. In this way, they might receive help or be rescued, or at the least, their bodies could be identified and buried, not left for stray cats and dogs to ravage.
She highlights the circumstances of her brothers and their families with the evacuation directives, gathering essentials like blankets, mattresses, pillows, clothes, kitchen supplies, food, water, important documents, and valuables. However, the adults made decisions about what to take and what to leave, which conflicted with what the children valued and wanted to take with them.
Pawns in a Regional Conflict
The children of Ghada’s siblings cried when their parents rejected most of their choices. Amal, the 16-year-old daughter who dreams of becoming a doctor, wondered, “Is this our last day at home? Will we ever return? Can I take my books and school bag?” But there was neither time nor a way to explain.
Ghada’s family moved to Al-Mawasi town, on the Mediterranean coast, declared a safe area. Yet the danger of Israeli drones loomed over their heads all along the way, prepared to target anything that moved. What would usually be an easy 20-minute walk turned into a terrifying journey.
Once renowned as one of the most beautiful beach areas in Gaza for families, Al-Mawasi has now become a stage for despair rather than leisure. Upon arrival, the family found no shelter to protect them from the bitter cold and were forced to build a structure from the blankets they had and any small amount of scattered plastic they could collect.
Sleep was impossible at night due to the extreme cold, darkness, disturbing bombardment, the wind, and the adults yelling at children in nearby tents, creating an atmosphere of constant discomfort.
Ghada vividly recounts her family’s suffering up to recent times, which is just a fraction of the daily atrocities experienced by the 2.3 million residents of Gaza. She states, “We have become pawns in a regional power struggle.”
She concludes by pointing to Britain and the United States’ purported commitment to international law when attacking the Houthis in Yemen, but their failure to do enough to support international law in Gaza. Her greatest fear is that the next time she hears news about her family in Gaza, it will be another devastating episode of loss.
