When the war began, I had just started my third year of studying English translation at university. This onslaught changed my life, erased my colors, shattered my dreams, and crushed my spirit. My university education, which was central to my life and ambitions, was cancelled. Gaza itself was mired in unprecedented destruction.
Like all families in Gaza, my family and I suffered greatly during this war. Two years of genocide have robbed us of our health and sense of stability. We were forced to evacuate 10 times, moving from northern Gaza to Khan Yunis in the south, then to Rafah, and then to Deir El Bala in central Gaza. More than a year later, we returned to Gaza City, but eight months after our return, we were again evacuated to Khan Yunis. Our house was badly damaged. We are now forced to live there with tarpaulins instead of walls.
Universities reopened in the summer of 2024, but only for online learning. I signed up not because I believed I could still achieve my dream of becoming a teaching assistant, but because I wanted to finish what I started.
I finished my third year in a tent, with unreliable internet, during what was supposed to be shaping me as a future teacher.
The final school year began in February. A few months later, hunger struck us. My health began to deteriorate due to food shortages, evacuations, and constant fear of bombing. I lost nearly 15 kg due to sudden and unhealthy weight loss. My body became weak, I didn’t have enough food, and I was constantly dizzy. At one point we ate only one meal during the day, which was hardly enough to feed the baby. As the hunger worsened, I noticed that my collarbone became more prominent.
I also began to notice that my family, especially my mother, was losing a lot of weight. There were moments when we felt we were on the brink of losing her. I was afraid to stay up past 8pm because of the constant hunger I felt.
Despite all the difficulties, I was determined not to destroy myself in the war. I kept reminding myself that Gaza is a land with everything, and what is important is the “now”.
One night I decided to start my own project. If you can’t lighten your mind with knowledge, just shine some light on your phone and charge it. I shared the idea of starting a small-scale mobile phone charging project using small solar panels with my family, and they fully supported me. The next morning, I wrote “Mobile Phone Charging Point” on a piece of paper and hung it outside my tent, and my career as a mobile phone charging business owner began.
I created a numbered card and stuck it on each phone so I wouldn’t lose it. My days were filled with voices calling out to me saying, “Shahed, how about phone number 7?” I was smiling on the outside, but deep inside I was in deep pain. It’s a pain I never imagined my last year of college would be like.
I struggled with cloudy skies, too many phone calls, and final exams. I didn’t have a large battery to store electricity, so every time a cloud passed that blocked the sun, the power would be cut off. At that moment, I cried out of exhaustion and helplessness.
I earned about $10 a day, which was enough to buy an internet card and simple things I once took for granted, like a packet of chips and a box of juice. I sat there, watching my phone charge, and thought, “That’s what my time was supposed to be, my time as a teaching assistant in college.”
I took the final exam in October in tears, surrounded by cell phones that could not be charged due to cloudy skies.
I am one of the hundreds of thousands of young people in Gaza who refuse to let war end our story.
Education is our form of resistance. That’s why the occupation forces tried to eliminate it. It wanted to send us into the darkness of ignorance, discouragement, and resignation.
However, the Gaza youth are undefeated. We have continued our education online while battling constant internet outages. We continue to support ourselves and our families in any way we can by selling food at small food stalls, offering tutoring, and starting small businesses.
Many people apply for scholarships to continue their education abroad.
All this is proof that the young people of Gaza love life, love their country and are determined to rebuild Gaza not as it was, but better.
I am currently applying for a scholarship outside of Gaza to pursue my master’s degree. I would like to go abroad to study and come back someday to recharge my mind instead of just charging my phone. If I am accepted, I will hand over the small cell phone charging project to my brother Anas. Anas’ dream is to become a journalist and tell the truth about Gaza and its people.
He and I, and the rest of our comrades in Gaza, are not going to give up.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Al Jazeera.
