In the scorched heart of Gaza, Maysa Al-Harazin’s life has become a journey of survival—a story mirrored in the lives of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians enduring the devastation of war. With every Israeli airstrike, her world is torn apart again, as displacement becomes her only constant and safety remains a distant memory.
Since the beginning of the assault, Al-Harazin has been forced to flee repeatedly, children in tow, along with the orphans she cares for. From Al-Zaytoun to Al-Shati camp, then south to Khan Younis and Rafah, and now to Deir al-Balah, her family’s path has been shaped by the echoes of bombs and the shadows of drones. Each stop offers less hope than the last.
In Deir al-Balah, there is no clean water, no electricity, no space to breathe. “We sleep in a tent we share with another family,” she says. “It doesn't shield us from the heat. Insects bite my children at night—I stay awake just to keep them safe.”
Her voice trembles when she speaks of hunger. With no income and no aid reaching them, Al-Harazin’s children survive on scraps of canned food. Their fragile bodies show signs of illness—hepatitis, anaemia, symptoms of a war they did not start. Her nine-year-old son walks miles just to bring water his hands cannot carry. “Childhood means nothing here anymore,” she says.
Since early March, the blockade on Gaza’s borders has turned crisis into catastrophe. With humanitarian aid blocked, nearly 2.4 million people are now at risk of famine. And yet, the bombs fall. The war, now in its 19th month, shows no sign of relenting. More than 173,000 have been killed or wounded. The silence of the world is deafening.
Source : Safa NewsAl-Harazin's message is simple. “We’re not asking for miracles. Just mercy. Look at us—just look. End this nightmare, for the sake of the children.”
