Health Educator · Article Writer · Community Activist

While I was browsing a page, a post stopped me: “A question for the residents of Gaza, because many of you posted: Are food products really available to you and have their prices dropped?!”

My answer is clear: Yes, some goods have recently returned to the market, but unfortunately, prices haven't seen any significant drop; they remain stiflingly high.

In the complete absence of any real government role and oversight, we live in a state closer to a “jungle” than an organized society. Those who have money buy, and those who don't remain hungry.

The markets are full of goods, but pockets are empty, and dignity is trampled under the feet of greedy merchants. Gaza today is suffering not only from the siege and bombardment, but also from internal greed. And this pain is doubled.

Written by: Yara (2025‑08)

In a world where truth has become a crime, Facebook decided to remove the verification badge from my account — simply because I dared to say what they don’t want to hear: Trump and Netanyahu are criminals, partners in the genocide taking place in Gaza.

I did not incite violence. I did not spread hate. I simply described reality as it is: warplanes killing, missiles tearing bodies apart, the lifeless bodies of children pulled from beneath the rubble — while world leaders stand complicit, silent, or directly involved in these crimes.

The blue checkmark means nothing to me when compared to the scream of a dying child or the tear of a mother who lost her children. If Facebook tries to silence me, the voice of truth will not be silenced. I will continue to write, to document, and to testify — until my last breath.

My true verification is my conscience, my voice, and my loyalty to Gaza.

The peak of humiliation is not only when you lose your home or your dreams, but when you are forced to flee your land and find yourself in another land as a refugee with no choice. Then, you are subjected to humiliation not for any crime you have committed, but because you are a displaced person, a stranger, unable to pay the price of life.

To be treated like a burden, an unwanted guest, and to be reminded at every moment that you are here by force, not by choice… that is a stab in the back of one’s dignity that will never heal.

Displacement is not a choice; it is an open wound that bleeds even more when the temporary shelter turns into an arena for the humiliation of one’s dignity. We did not come to take over land; we came in search of a spot where we could bury our fear and breathe a little life.

By: Yara (2025‑08)

In times of famine, criminals appear fearlessly, extending their hands to what is not theirs, shamelessly stealing aid from the hungry, plundering flour from the mouths of children, and throwing it on the ground as if we don’t deserve to live.

What kind of hearts are these that don’t tremble at the cries of hungry children? What kind of conscience allows the theft of food from displaced people who have nothing but a tent and waiting? Not only have they deprived us of our homes, but they have come to steal the remaining crumbs of flour and aid we have been waiting for days!

It’s not just theft; it’s betrayal… betrayal of their families, their neighbors, their homeland, and their humanity. A day will come when faces will be revealed, and everyone who starved their people while filling their bags and turning the flour under their feet will be held accountable.

We don’t ask for much… just a morsel of food to preserve our dignity. But even that, they haven’t left us with anything.

By: Yara (2025‑07)