Shuttered Dreams and Frozen Hope: The Fight to Keep My Six Children Alive in Gaza
This is the second of a series of testimonies from Gaza that I am publishing. You can also read Rania's story. All the testimonies will be gathered together under the tag War Stories. Simon.
My name is Nourhan. I was born in 1989, a woman who once had simple dreams, but today, I am a mother fighting an invisible, agonising war just to keep my six beautiful children alive. Before this nightmare began, our life was simple but filled with warmth and stability. Our home was a sanctuary where my children felt safe. They attended UNRWA schools—bright, talented souls with big dreams for a peaceful future. My husband holds a university degree in Early Childhood Education, and despite the scarce opportunities in Gaza, he worked as a teacher whenever he could. I, too, graduated from Al-Aqsa University with a degree in Education. But like thousands of youth here, the suffocating siege and unemployment locked those doors. Refusing to surrender, I taught myself digital marketing to support my family and to afford my own medical treatments.
Tricycle project notes
Tricycle project notes
The tricycle project is in at least temporary abeyance, partly because of a period of madness, partly because all my spare money is going to people in Gaza so I can't afford to do it. But that doesn't stop me thinking about it; and it doesn't stop me gathering ideas. This note is just to record two ideas — one mine, one stolen — which I think will be useful if and when I take up the project again.
The disk brake motor
Dear John
'Dear John' is always an ominous opening to a letter; and so indeed it is now.
You wrote in Saturday's National on how the SNP can regain 'our' trust. To whom your message is addressed is not entirely clear, but given the readership of The National I am going to suppose you are addressing, not the kitchen cabinet of the SNP, but the Yes movement as a whole. And if that is so, then this is not enough.
Rania's story
In Scotland, we have not seen war in eighty years. It's very distant from us. It's hard for us to relate to the experience of war — we have nothing in our lives to which we can compare it. But the people whose lives are torn apart by war are people just like us, ordinary people, who, before war came, had ordinary lives and ordinary hopes; and now live in hunger and fear among ruins.
We cannot, as ordinary individuals, end wars. All we can do is to put pressure on our governments to put pressure on those who make war to end them. But unless we understand something of the suffering of the people whose lives are affected by war, we won't do this. So I have decided that, over the next few weeks, I am going to invite people from war zones — initially from Gaza, because that is where I am at present in touch with people affected by war — to tell their stories through my blog.
All of these people have been interviewed by the volunteers of Gaza Verified. We know for certain that they are in Gaza, and seen the conditions under which they live. Like everyone in Gaza, they are hungry, and, like most, they have lost everything. All of them need money. I will put their individual giving links at the end of each story.
Correspondence with a friend in Gaza
Today I received this message from a friend in Gaza:
Hello Simon, I appreciate your engagement and interest in our posts, and I'm very happy about that🤍🕊️ I truly see a significant impact when you share and interact with my posts, so I always strive to support you. I wanted to consult with you on the best way to convey our struggles, needs, and ideas to the public, as you have a large following on your account, which is a valuable asset✨