Before the War in Bilal's Own Words

Before October 7th, I lived a normal life in Gaza—a simple life filled with a home, friends, and everyday memories. We laughed, played, and talked about the future. The house where I grew up was my refuge and the safe haven of my childhood.

On October 7th, everything changed suddenly. The sounds of explosions shook the city, and the house I loved was reduced to rubble, the familiar streets to smoke and debris. I felt shocked and terrified, as if our lives had collapsed in an instant.

After that, we began to flee—ten times we went through fleeing again. We carried what clothes and memories we could, moving from place to place in search of safety. With each displacement, we lost a part of our old lives, but we tried to hold onto some memories and images of the past.

With the arrival of winter, life became even harder. The bitter cold penetrated our bodies, and the rain poured down on the small tent that had become our only shelter. The tent was cramped, but it was the only place that offered us some protection from the winter cold.

Despite all the pain, there were moments of joy with my friends. We tried to laugh a little, tell stories, and share some memories, but loss was always present; I lost my best friend in one of the raids, and his absence left a huge void in my heart that will never fill.

Every Friday, I would pray and supplicate, trying to gather my strength amidst the devastation and the cold, clinging to a glimmer of hope that connected me to life. I have learned.

- An entry from Bilal's journal (translated from Arabic)