Gaza’s Very Own Hind Khoudary

drawing of Hind Khoudary sitting on a plastic chair on the beach with an orange umbrella above

CÉLINE SEMAAN: Before you became a journalist working with Al Jazeera, what did you study? What were your interests?

HIND KHOUDARY: I started working in journalism in 2017. I used to work as a translator before I became a journalist. My interest was always writing. This is how I discovered myself. I used to write diaries; I would spend hours every day writing when I was a child. I would hide what I wrote underneath my clothes in my closet. The first time I published something I wrote, I felt exposed. Fortunately, I always get very nice feedback from editors. Covering the Great March of Return in 2017 and 2018 kick- started my career.

CÉLINE:Where are your diaries from childhood now?

HIND: They’re all gone. I never thought our house would be bombed. Every time I go to the house I search for stuff, but I have never found any of my journals. I can’t write anymore, and it’s something that’s suffocating me… even writing a caption for a story or a post, I can’t do that anymore. It’s fucking hurting me; it’s breaking my heart. I used writing as a tool to help myself, to express myself, to document everything, and I’m not able to do it. I got new pens and new notebooks. They’re all blank. I can’t write anymore.

I’m taking pictures of stuff… when I want to write something, I’ll go to the pictures and remember what I wanted to write. I’m a Cancer, and Cancer is a water sign. My house was a street away from the beach when I was a kid. I used to see the beach from my windows. It’s the only place where I find peace, because all I hear are the waves and the water. I look at the sky, I don’t hear drones, I don’t hear explosions. The sea is my best friend. I love it. It’s my escape.

CÉLINE: How has it been now that Israel is bombing Gaza more intensely? It’s something we can’t even wrap our heads around, because it was already so awful. How is it now? Give us a little update… what is going on right now in Gaza?

HIND: I think this period is the worst since the war started. People returned to their houses after the ceasefire. They tried to fix whatever they could fix, build their houses, despite the rubble, despite the destruction, despite everything. Some people pitched their tents on top of their bombed house. It was very hopeful. For a couple of months, we were very hopeful, and everyone was like, we’re not going to leave again. Whatever happens, we want to die here… until everything started once again. The massive bombardment started again. They’re bombing in a very crazy way. My friends are telling me that they find quadcopters (military drones) inside their houses. So most of the Palestinians were forced to flee again.

We’re living the same exact story once again; we’ve lived through the famine and then the displacement, and then the ground invasion… and there’s going to be another famine in the next couple of months. It suffocates you. We’re not Supermen or Batmen. If you stay, you’re going to either die and get buried in a mass grave or get arrested. There’s no other option. It’s very traumatizing. It’s very hard. Documenting this over and over again is hitting me hard because I can’t do anything about it. There’s nothing we can do. We’re in this cycle of violence, and nothing else can happen. And the worst thing is those explosive robots. They destroy entire houses. It’s this new technology where there’s no body left or anything. So all of this makes this the worst period ever.

CÉLINE: It’s terrible. The news coming from Gaza is being censored, so it’s very hard for us to follow what’s going on. How is it to document this while it’s happening? It must be very difficult. Are there any protocols you guys follow? How do you make sure that you are at least able to record something?

HIND: Every single day, when we wake up, we start counting the people who were recorded as deceased by the hospitals. Dozens are killed every day. No civil defense team, no crew can reach them, no one knows about them. So my reporting is not accurate, because we are not able to reach all the people. There are 1000s of Palestinians buried under rubble, and no one knows anything about where they are or how many are buried. I met dozens of families that were searching every single day for one bone of their family member, a bone, anything, just anything from whatever is left of them. There is nothing to say goodbye to, no body. So, yes, we try to document as much as possible, but our numbers are totally inaccurate.

CÉLINE: And even the cemeteries are being bombed. You are in a place that is being actively erased.

HIND: I went to the burial of a friend, and all of the graves were bombed. Why would you destroy someone’s grave? What is the point of doing something like that? It literally made me feel like: is this real? Why is this happening? Even after you die, come on… there’s nothing left to destroy.

CÉLINE: I’m sure the word resilience sounds more like an insult at this point, because I feel that as well. I myself am struggling to stay strong. I renew my strength by witnessing you every day. You’re holding the world on your shoulders at this moment, yet you remain soft. I’m sure people ask you: How do you find hope? But I want to ask you if you feel closer to God in this experience?

HIND: Losing everything, your beloved ones, your family members, your house, your future, your city; it’s a lot to handle. I always pray: God, give me the strength to continue. God, give me the strength to finish this till the end. The only thing I want to do is to reach the end. That’s what I want. And without God, I could never do this. We need strength, we need hope. But at the same time, we are very disappointed. I was sitting with a group of journalists, and a correspondent looked at the sky and said, “God, do something. Do something right now!” We all started screaming and shouting, “Do something. Please, do something.” It’s a love- hate relationship. It’s not knowing what to do, and at the same time, calling Him all the time, talking to Him all the time, asking Him to intervene.

CÉLINE: Do people ask you why you aren’t escaping? How do you keep in touch with your family abroad? I’m sure they must be worried.

HIND: I remember the fights I had with my family during the first weeks and months of the war when I decided not to leave. I want to be here because I want to experience everything. I would never walk away and leave my people. I send my family a message every now and then; that’s how I maintain my relationship with them. I have a lot of friends who are very worried, and they’re always texting. It’s not that I don’t want to text back or call back, but I don’t have anything to say. I don’t want to tell you I’m not okay because I don’t want to talk about it. Of course, I want to share everything, but I don’t have the capacity right now. I’m mentally exhausted. Everyone has been very understanding. Even if I don’t reply, they still send emojis. My brother always sends me videos laughing or singing. It was a very tough decision to stay. However, I do not regret it.

CÉLINE: I completely understand. I wanted to go to Gaza at the start of the war, but I couldn’t because I’m Lebanese. I was obsessed. I really wanted to be there. It’s very hard to watch it, but I know it’s harder to live it… I was reading your tweets yesterday night before bed. I feel you’re talking to somebody. I wondered if that person read your tweets?

HIND: Every app has a different part of me. Twitter is my diary; I love tweeting what I feel on that app. The heart of me is posting on Instagram. I love posting my feelings, but I also like to share stuff. I share what I see, what I feel, everything. I don’t post what I post on Facebook on Instagram or on Twitter. My feelings are very complicated. I was feeling neglected, as if someone had given up on me. I didn’t want to go through that onmyown.Yes,Ichosetobeonmyown.I thought I would be okay, but at the end of the day, you need someone to cry to, you need someone to hug, you need someone to express yourself to. You need someone to lean on.

CÉLINE: You’re going through a heartbreak, and you’re going through the destruction of your city, and you’re going through displacement… it’s beyond human. And as you said, we are not superheroes. I watch you, and I send you prayers and so much love. I was happy when I saw you dressed in a cute outfit the other day…

HIND: I try. I’m still picky about what I drink and eat, despite the fact that there are no options. I’m trying to save this part of myself. I am the person I am, and I’m happy that nothing has changed me.

CÉLINE: Again, I was reading your Twitter, and I felt like this experience is pushing a lot of people to their limits. Nonetheless, many people here are romanticizing the situation. They’re like, “Oh, it’s so inspiring. People are coming together and helping one another…” When, in reality, people are suffering. How do you describe the situation? Are people able to remain in solidarity? Or is it breaking people apart?

HIND: It’s breaking people apart. Imagine losing everything you have and then being thrown on the streets. Your family is in danger, or you’ve lost your family. You’ve lost everything you have, you’re starved, you don’t have an income. Everything that would make you stay the human you are is gone. For example, there are people who jump on the trucks to grab a bag of flour before anyone else can get it. Do you think these people ever thought they would end up here one day? People are starving, like literally, people are starving and if they do not do this, their family will not eat that day. They are forced to be the worst version of themselves.

Before the war, I never felt afraid in Gaza. I felt like these are my people. This is my home. I’ve never felt scared at home, but for the first time, I am scared when I’m home. Who are these people? I feel as if I’m living with zombies. When I’m working, I am always scared of people. I never felt like this before. I worked in all parts of Gaza. I went to houses, I protested. I never felt afraid that someone would harm me. But now I feel afraid when I’m on camera. I try to build a connection with people, but at the same time, I know that the person who was cursing at me or threatening me would never curse if he had not just walked for seven hours, barefoot and under fire from his house to where I am reporting… He doesn’t know where to go. The social fabric is literally destroyed.

Everyone knows the people of Gaza for their generosity and their kindness… and I’ve found some people who are still like this, even at this point. I’ll go into a tent to cover a story, and the people there insist on collecting wood, lighting a fire, and boiling water just so they can offer me tea. Gazans are still Gazans, but at the same time, the situation and the toll it’s taking is stronger than the people.

CÉLINE: It feels that collective action has taken on a whole other meaning for most people in the West, because here they are very individualistic. They don’t really do collective action. But we’ve seen a big, big change. But still, it’s not enough.

HIND: We in Gaza feel like it’s not the same effort anymore. We used to see more stuff. We’re not seeing any. The killing of at least 270 journalists is not shaking the world. People in mass graves is not shaking the world. Nothing is shaking the world. Nothing is stopping this. What people need to understand is, people do not have internet in Gaza. They do not know. We’re under fire. We’re surrounded by Israeli tanks and soldiers. People don’t have water, they don’t have food, they don’t have electricity, they don’t have internet. They have nothing, literally nothing.

I’m telling you about the regular people, not journalists and people who are connected. People are busy surviving in Gaza. People in Gaza line up for four hours for 10 liters of water. This is for a whole family to drink, to cook with, and to shower with. Ten liters of water for the whole family, and they wait four to five hours every single day to get it. I totally appreciate everyone’s efforts. I would not say anything other than that, but Gaza needs more. It definitely needs more action.

CÉLINE: I know you said that you’re holding on to not being changed, but ultimately, this experience has changed you. How has it changed you?

HIND: I’ve become more patient. I’m more peaceful. I was always a revolutionary. But after losing a lot, I’ve become very patient, very quiet. I wasn’t this quiet. I was always crazy. But the heartbreaks make you very sad. You become a person who doesn’t ask for anything.

CÉLINE: What message would you like to send to the people of the world?

HIND: I want to tell the world that Gaza still needs them. We still need you guys to do something.