To my best friend Walaa

Walaa al-Moqaide, a recent nursing school graduate, was killed along with most of her family at their home in al-Nuseirat camp.
The Electronic Intifada

The war on Gaza has cost me and so many others dearly. Yet the death of my childhood friend Walaa al-Moqaide, killed by an Israeli attack in April on the al-Nuseirat camp, has been the hardest.

I met Walaa when I was in the first grade, in 2007.

Her father had died when she was a baby, and she would often talk about wanting a father. Her mother was everything to her.

We studied alongside each other throughout elementary and middle school in Jabaliya in northern Gaza and became close friends.

I remember so many of her likes and dislikes. She loved popcorn, hated English and math, and her favorite food was fried fish and rice.

She loved spending time with her extended family on her mother’s side. Every Thursday she would go to al-Nuseirat camp and stay for the weekend.

Walaa went to the Islamic University of Gaza to study nursing, and I often saw her on campus, where I was studying English.

Her graduation day was in August 2023 and she was excited to start work as a nurse. Her older sister was pregnant and due to give birth at the end of October. Walaa had so many things to be excited about.

Just months after graduation, Israel began launching its genocidal attacks on Gaza, and Walaa and her family were forced to leave the north.

They went farther south to al-Nuseirat camp.

Those weekend trips to al-Nuseirat had once been the highlight of her week, but now she was filled with fear and sadness that she would never again return home.

Yet Walaa was by nature optimistic. She was funny and could always turn a sad situation into a happy one. She would send me pictures of her daily activities to assure me that she was fine. She distracted herself by spending time with family, playing with siblings and reading.

I had moved to Qatar in July 2023, and I was always relieved to hear from Walaa. Yet I noticed that her videos never had sound. I wondered if she was trying to spare me from hearing the constant buzzing of drones and war planes.

She always dreamed of meeting her father

When Israel invaded southern Gaza, she began volunteering at al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah.

“I am afraid that they will invade this hospital as they did with al-Shifa …” she wrote to me.

Yet she continued to volunteer at al-Aqsa, despite her fears. She would send me Snapchats of her late-night shifts at the hospital, away from her mother and two brothers.

She would share with me that she was tired or that she was happy because she had gotten some food to eat or scared because of the number of wounded people being treated at the hospital.

Even though the internet connection was bad, Walaa would always find a way to send me messages. Every morning I would be eager to hear news from her.

One morning, though, I opened up Instagram and saw a picture of Walaa posted by a friend. I was confused. The caption said that Walaa was gone, killed by an Israeli attack while she was at home with her family in al-Nuseirat camp.

Everyone in her family home was killed except her little brother Louai.

I opened Snapchat and saw that Walaa had sent me pictures several hours before her death. She was at home, sitting peacefully.

It has taken me months to accept that Walaa was killed.

She always dreamed of meeting her father, but I never imagined that it would be in this way, in death.

Rana al-Shorbaji is an English teacher and writer.