My name is Nevin Naeem Al-Hasanat and I am a Black Palestinian woman from Gaza. Although it was often stressful living beneath the violence of occupation, our life was fairly quiet and very beautiful. My husband, Muhammad Abu Shabab worked as a painter and decorator, and together we saved and built our dream home in our tight-knit community where we raised our three young children, Elaf, Ameer, and Adam. I graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Public Relations and Media, and had dreams to complete my Master’s and Doctorate so that I could give my children a better life and be able to provide them with everything they wished for.
Every Thursday we would take the children to have fun and buy the things they needed. The children were carefree and just beginning to explore the things in life that made them happy. We were so proud in September 2023 when our eldest son, Adam, started kindergarten. He was so excited to learn and play with his classmates. However, our hopes were short lived– one month into the school year, the war came– that damned war. I used to dream that Adam’s life would be happy, that he would learn and grow before my eyes, but now I no longer pay attention to those things…
I put aside my dreams for my children and my dreams for my future. My only concern became finding food, drinks, some clothes, and a place to live. Much like everything else around us, our home was destroyed in the bombing. We have been fighting to survive in the tents of Khan Younis ever since, displaced and afraid. Both my husband and my father, Naeem Ahmed, were kidnapped in January and I haven’t had contact with either of them, fearing for their safety. I am now alone, trying to keep my children safe, unsure what each day will bring.
My children and I suffered in tents all winter. We nearly drowned in the tents, as rainwater would pour in all night until our clothes were soaked and our bodies freezing. We had no choice but to stay in our cold, wet clothes until the morning arrived.
My children became seriously ill and I was unable to buy medicine during those days because prices had soared. This all caused me to suffer from a difficult psychological state because I was unable to give anything to my children as they suffered with various illnesses for weeks.This is a situation I will never forget in my life. The lack of water and the high prices of menstrual products caused me to suffer from mental health issues because I did not know at the time what to do and how to deal with this situation. How could I? But I consider myself to be one of the lucky ones, as the brave women who gave birth in tents faced a more than tragic situation. There was no shelter for them, no clothes for their newborns, and if they were available, their price was exorbitant. There is no dignity in genocide. I used to dream of doing a good job being a mom and a wife. I used to dream of having a career that supported me in raising my children and keeping them healthy and distinguished in their lives. I used to dream of seeing them thrive in school and just be happy for them like a mother deserves to be. But now, I just dream of telling the world “Save Gaza. Save our children. Stop the genocide.”
These days, the only comfort I find is supporting our community by helping children as much as I can. I had been fundraising for a water filtration truck for the last few months, to provide some relief to our people. Whenever I help someone, I feel as if I have alleviated their worries and pain. I find in the children, all their eagerness and all their joy as a balm in my life. I pray that if a child needs to cry, that it’s a cry of joy. I pray for someone to always be there to hug a child and empathize with their pain. I have so much love for this life, and so much love for peace, security, and stability. Despite the pain, we feel hope. Hope will remain a motivation for life and be present as long as we live.
My dreams now are to live for tomorrow.
