I am a human being and I love life

I am Ramadan, I live in northern Gaza with my mother and my five siblings.

We all live in a torn tent that shields us neither from the heat of summer nor the cold of winter. The wind enters from every side, as if to remind us at every moment that we are without a home.

Since my father was martyred, our home has been empty of safety. There is no one left to protect us or hold us when we are afraid. I try to appear strong in front of my younger siblings, but my heart trembles every night when I hear the sounds of shelling drawing closer.

Hunger devours our bodies. We search for a small piece of food but find only a little, and sometimes we go to sleep with nothing to eat. My mother tries to reassure us, but she too is hungry and exhausted, carrying the weight of all of us on her shoulders.

Fear fills our hearts, and the cold bites our bodies, but the loss of my father made the pain deeper than anything else. And yet, we try to hold on to a thin thread of hope, to believe that one day the sun of peace will rise, and we will return to a real home instead of this torn tent.

I am Ramadan… and this is my voice from the heart of Gaza: hungry, afraid, orphaned, but still dreaming of life.