Surviving the War: A Glimpse into Hanya Aljamal's Life in Gaza

Hanya Aljamal, a 28-year-old former English teacher from Gaza, shares her experience living in a war-torn region as she grapples with displacement, loss, and the remnants of a life now unrecognizable, all while finding solace in small moments of beauty.

Hanya Aljamal, a 28-year-old Palestinian woman, reflects on her life before the war—a life of purpose where she taught English and was pursuing a Master's degree in the US. Now, she finds herself sharing a cramped apartment in Deir al-Balah with her family, longing for the peace and solitude she once knew. Two years into the ongoing conflict, her dreams seem distant, overshadowed by the realities of war.

Each day, as she sips her morning coffee on the balcony, Hanya is struck by the juxtaposition of destruction and resilience around her—her neighbor nurturing a garden opposite a bombed building encapsulates the defiance of the human spirit in dire circumstances. Since the start of the conflict, her school has closed, leaving her without purpose; Hanya describes the struggle to find meaning as everything she once identified with slips away.

The realities of life in Gaza are harrowing. With reports claiming over 56,000 killed, most civilians, and thousands displaced, Hanya’s narrative of anxiety and sorrow resonates with countless others. She wakes up to explosions and gunfire, the echoes of conflict becoming a daily soundtrack that eats at her sense of serenity. Amid this turmoil, she channels her efforts into humanitarian work with Action for Humanity, witnessing the dire emotional and physical toll the war has taken on children who suffer losses beyond their comprehension.

The arrival of Eid al-Adha reminds Hanya of traditions lost, with no sheep to sacrifice or large family gatherings, a stark contrast to past celebrations. The grief is compounded with each lost friend and family member, the emotional toll of which becomes a burden she struggles to carry. As she further reflects on mortality and loss, she admits that grieving has become a luxury many cannot afford under such conditions.

Despite the pervasive gloom, Hanya seeks pockets of beauty and inspiration, particularly in the sight of kites flying overhead—a symbol of hope in bleak times. She finds herself gazing at the sky, where color and possibility contrast sharply with the grief-stricken landscape below. As she contemplates her fractured identity, Hanya voices the sentiment felt by many in Gaza: a feeling of gaslighting, as if the life they once led was a mere illusion. Her story is a poignant reminder of the human capacity for resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship.