An unforgettable night—etched into my memory from the
days of displacement.
Yesterday, I remembered myself
standing in that tent all night long…
On a rainy
night…
People were retreating into the warmth of
their homes, while I was standing there, holding up the roof
of a nylon tent as water gathered above us. I stood in the
middle of the tent, lifting the roof with a broom so it
wouldn’t collapse on the heads of my sleeping
children.
I did not sleep…
I was guarding a
fragile childhood—one that feared being awakened by the
cold, or drowned by merciless water.
Those nights of
displacement can never be forgotten.
They stay carved
into the heart no matter how the roof above you changes, no
matter how the days shift.
Yesterday, as you slept
beneath a ceiling of concrete, everything came rushing
back…
The cold of those nights, the sound of rain
beating against the thin fabric, that trembling that came
not only from the cold—but from responsibility, from fear,
from a love that never sleeps.
I remembered the people
in the tents,
and I wept—by God, I wept for what
they must be enduring now.
Children shivering, mothers
covering the leaks with their hands so a small mattress
won’t get soaked, fathers tightening the ropes so the wind
won’t tear away their only home.
I wondered: What
are they doing now?
How do they face a stormy night
with no wall to shield them and no window to close against
the rain?
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We are a people who love life.
We
never asked for much…
Just a home that preserves
dignity,
a roof that keeps the rain away,
a door
that shuts out fear.
Where is the world that speaks of
humanity?
Where are those who call for
peace?
Where are the ones raising slogans in
conferences while children here shiver beneath a tent
battered by the wind?
We do not want words…
We
want a simple, safe life.
We want the rain to return
to being a song of joy, not a nightmare we dread.
We
want every tent replaced with a home, and every child to
know sleep without fear.
We are a people who love
life…
All we ask is that our voice be
heard,
that our pain be seen,
and that we live
with dignity—just as every human being wishes to
live.
Dr. Nasim
Palestine –
Gaza
