I made some tea and the kids sat around me, as I was considering some activity we can do to reduce the repercussions of the horrific night before. 

My name is Naheel and I am twenty eight years old. I don’t know how much life or time I have left before my mission in this life is over. I would like to tell you parts of my story before I run out. 

This is the 22nd day of war. I’m used to helping people figure out their emotions and let them be. Today, I don’t know what to do with my own sadness anymore.

A few moments after heavy shelling by our house, my 7-year-old daughter, whose body was trembling with fear, put her trembling hand on my cheek and asked: “Daddy, who invented the Israelis? Why do they do this to us? Tell them it’s enough!”

For every family with many siblings, there is always a child who steals your heart with their light spirit, wit, and an adorable presence that everybody seems to love.

Yasmine here… miraculously spared by the angel of death after the shelling of the past few days, next to which we had never seen before.

sole night spent at the hospital was enough to realize that dying under the rubble of our home was much easier than staying only for a few hours at the hospital. The plan was to head to the hospital on foot as a first stop so we can find some cars to take us to the supposedly safe south. 

I have an 11-year-old son. He is my eldest boy. He loves me very much and wants nothing more in life than to be like me. Rowdy-dowdy and fun-loving, just like me! He even mimics my humorous style and watches how I make his mother laugh.

This war is not like any

previous war, at least not for me. Wars and aggressions are typical for us. Never did we know peace or security. In the thirty years of my life, I was always known for my strength and tenacity in difficult times. I was always the wise and dependable one in the family, especially caring for my ill mother. But this time is not like every other time.

Wishing there was no night:

The worst time of the day in this savage war is when the sun starts setting, as if the night has been weaponized by the colonizer to instil fear and horror.