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February 26th, 2022 
Awake Goy Early yesterday morning I woke up to the sound of war. I was half asleep. Trying to understand what was happening, I rubbed my eyes and washed my face. My parents and my siblings were sitting in silence in front of the TV on Al Jazeera live. They were all unblinkingly staring at the current tragic events in Ukraine. I asked my mom fearfully, “Did war break out?” She took a deep breath and said, “Yes.”
The sounds of shelling and missiles were buzzing in my ears as if they were close to our home. The scenery of unarmed innocent Ukrainian people gathering in front of the bus station trying to flee to a safe haven brought a profound sadness to my heart. Signs of fear and anxiety were apparent among the women and children. They do not know what’s coming.
The scenes of smoke billowing from the safe houses, flames leaping up, the sound of bombs exploding here and there, fighters preparing and equipping themselves to fight, journalist’s fearing of being targeted, lovers embracing each other, a mother hiding her children in her arms, and some people bidding farewell to other people are all vivid in my memory. It brought back sad memories of how war is cruel.
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The Russian military aircraft hovering in the sky with their horrific sounds reminded me of the Israeli aircraft during the aggressions I have witnessed in Gaza. Both are like monsters; they terror innocent people’s hearts.
I started to think about nine months pregnant women waiting to give birth to their babies and how they feel in such challenging circumstances. What will they say to their kids when they grow up? Will they tell them they were born when the war erupted after years of peace?
I began to think about the patients waiting for surgery. While waiting, the hour turns to years. Slowly, the clock moves. Moments of anticipation and longing are the toughest.
I heard the injuries screaming in pain, and I heard the echoes of their father’s and mother’s groans. I heard heavy footsteps of a doctor reporting, sadly, the death of one of the injuries.
How are poor and needy people living? Do they have a portion of adequate food and water supply? It’s winter; it’s freezing there. Are there enough blankets and pillows?
What about the orphans! Are they in a safe place and feel warm and cozy? Are they scared? Are they okay? Who wipes their tears and taps them on the shoulder?
I saw a little kid holding her doll tightly and crying with the loudest voice in the world: “Daddy, mommy.” And nobody hears her weak voice.
And I saw a wife in her tender age crying and praying for her husband, a fighter defending his homeland, to come back safe and sound.
I also saw a grandmother leaning on one of her granddaughters, and assuring her and saying: war will be over, don’t be frightened.
I know well what it looks like when a powerful force starts attacking a weaker one. I am acquainted with what the scenery will look like.
It hurts to know that people, somewhere in the world, are experiencing the same we have faced in Gaza for decades and continue to face. Overwhelmed, I wept my tears.
War is war. We, Palestinians, who the fires of Israeli aggressions have scorched, are well aware of the feelings of those who stand helpless today in the face of the missiles in Kyiv, Kharkiv, and all the cities of Ukraine.
We feel sorry when we see aircraft targets people with its missiles. They do not differentiate between a child, a woman, and an older man as they flee from their homes.
We, in Gaza, who have seen our loved ones under the rubble will not go without caring when we hear of the outbreak of a devastating war somewhere in the world!
Humanity comes first. How about the people who stood with us, felt our suffering, and supported our cause, even when their leaders were aligned with the enemy?
May Allah protect innocent people in Ukraine and every spot in the world.
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