The Electronic Intifada 5 September 2024
Kenda Darbeh was born in June 2023 and has known little but displacement and Israeli bombardment during her short life.
When I got married in 2022, this was supposed to be a happy time in my life. Instead, it was a very difficult time.
My husband could not find work in Gaza even though he had a computer engineering degree. He eventually found work outside of Gaza, in Nazareth in occupied Palestine, as a blacksmith, and while this helped our finances, it led to a fragmented life for me, and the early months of our marriage were full of hardship.
I worked at a kindergarten as an art teacher. I’m a talented sketch artist, and I enjoyed the work, yet I still wished that I had been able to finish my college degree in child development. Yet that was not a possibility given the circumstances in Gaza – I had to work to support the family.
When our daughter Kenda was born on 26 June 2023, it was a similarly hard time. My husband was away much of the year, and life in Gaza was full of obstacles.
It did not seem like life could get harder, but in October 2023, when Kenda was just 3 months old, Israel launched its war of extermination on us and everything changed.
Daily fear and humiliation
My husband was in Egypt then for work. I was at home with my family in Beit Lahiya. Israel issued an evacuation order in the early months of the war and we were forced to leave. I did not take anything with me that I could not carry. I left behind so much, including most of Kenda’s clothes and so many essential items.
We evacuated under bombardment and in the beginning I was separated and lost from my family. We had nowhere to go but south.
It was an unbelievable situation. How had I brought this newborn into this world of destruction? Into a life where she had nowhere to live but a tent and I could barely provide the necessities?
Kenda developed a skin condition. Her skin bubbled up with red bumps and a rash. She was irritated, in pain and cried often. I had no way to soothe her.
My husband was not able to return to Gaza for months, until the crossings finally opened. Having him return to support us was a mental relief. He told me he was afraid of his entire family dying in Gaza without him. It was better for us to live alongside each other, to die alongside each other.
We are now in Nuseirat in central Gaza and I live in a tent with my husband, mother and father, and sisters.
My husband goes early in the morning to get chickpeas to prepare falafel that he can sell at night. It is enough to cover the basics for us, like milk and diapers, but we still barely eat.
I weighed 130 pounds before this war, but I’ve lost over 30 pounds now.
I’m 27 years old and I’ve known nothing but blockade, sanctions and war.
We have been humiliated and humiliated in this war. My little girl and my sisters are scared of the sounds of the bombs that kill and destroy everything. We dream of dying every day, every minute from the intensity of fear.
I am a new bride who did not rejoice in my marriage, did not fulfill my dream of a college degree and did not rejoice in my newborn – not because there was not joy in these developments but because outside hardships made them impossible to fully enjoy.
Kenda is now over a year old, with the majority of her life now spent living in this war of annihilation. I beg that people will read this and understand that we are humans.
Shomooa Darbeh is a writer in Gaza.
