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.
These are the nights of terror.
Total darkness.
No electricity.
Incessant trepidation.
Exaggerated sounds of explosions.
Fear for our kids is multiples of our fear for ourselves.
When we have the chance to follow the news or see the martyrs, especially the children, we are overtaken by an overwhelming sense of fear that shakes us to the core.
Only excessive fear and cumulative exhaustion can put the kids to sleep. We thank God when they sleep, even if from fear and exhaustion, so they don’t wake to some of the terrifying sounds of shelling.
Us adults push each other on with prayers, praise, and wishes that we are not the next target.
Hours of the night are slow and motionless. We pray to God that we see another morning in a new life… although daylight is no less dangerous, but we find solace in the company of people around us who remained alive. The occupiers transformed the night that God made for rest and contentment to an unwanted visitor of daily terror.
Our wives keep themselves busy by preparing food and caring for the children as much as they can. And us husbands leave the house holding our souls in our hands to make available whatever we can find of basic necessities. I don’t know wether I will return with water for my family or wether my blood will water the earth beneath me. I don’t know if I will come back to find my family alive and well or under the rubble. And if I am destined to return to my beloved wife, I support her as much as possible. Oh how I missed talking to her about the children and my problems at work! Now our conversations are about listening and supporting (considering emergency plans – problem-solving solutions for water shortage – arranging for general daily challenges and so on). We hold on to dear life with all what is left of our strength for the sake of a better tomorrow.
We console each other that we are still alive and that hope is enough to hold us until tomorrow. All for tomorrow. A tomorrow we pray would be better than yesterday’s tomorrow.
Roo7 – Anonymous Mental Health Professional in Gaza, Palestine (for fear of being targeted)
25 October 2023
Italiano
