
“I don’t think God has intended to people in the late 20s to live with his parents,” says Hanya Aljamal.
She is walking on the balcony of the small apartment where she lives with her mother, father and five elder brothers – because it is the only place she can make any peace and calm.
Two years ago, 28 -year -old Hanya was working as an English teacher and was living in a flat of her own. She was applying in colleges in the US to master international development, and to pay for a scholarship for it. Things were going well – but life is now different.
Like most days, Sunday starts with morning coffee on the balcony, while Hanya sees a man in her neighbor, 70s, carefully bends herbs, planting and plants pot in her streamlined garden, just beyond the road from a flying building.
“It just looks like the pure form of resistance,” Hanya says. “Amidst all this scary and uncertainty, he still finds time to grow something – and something is absolutely beautiful about it.”
A city in the middle of Hanya Gaza lives in Deer al-Balah, a land stretch of 25 miles on the south-eastern corner of the Mediterranean Sea which is a battle area since October 2023. He has Record an audio diary, which he shared with BBC for a radio documentary What about life
The school he taught he had to stop when the war began. Hanya has become a teacher in which there is no student and no school, she is prudent that she was slipping from her fingers.
“It is very difficult at this time, at this time, as you find some kind of consolation or meaning, your whole world is separated.”

Hanya shares with her family since the war began. The United Nations estimates that 90% of Ghazan has been displaced by war – many times. Most of the ghazans now live in temporary shelters.
On Monday, Hanya is awakened in bed at 2 pm.
She says, “There was actually an explosion that followed a second, and a third,” she says, “it was very loud and very scary. I tried to calm myself to sleep.”
The Israeli government says that its military action in Gaza is to destroy Hamas’ abilities, which describes itself as an Islamic resistance movement. It is named a terrorist organization by the UK, US, Israel and others.
Israel’s military action began, when Gaza’s armed Palestinian groups led by Hamas attacked Israel on 7 October 2023, killing around 1,200 people, most of them to the citizens, and 251 bodies.
So far, the Israeli army has killed more than 56,000 people in the conflict – the majority of the citizens – according to the Ministry of Health, run by Hamas. Israel currently does not allow international journalists to report independently from Gaza.

Hanya is working for a support organization called Action for Humanity and spends a day on one of her projects. A group of girls wearing white T-shirts and a dance around their waist with kefiheh and then participate in a group therapy session.
One talks about what it means to lose your home, other people talk about losing their belongings, their friends, someone they love. And then one suddenly starts crying and everyone else gets silent. A teaching assistant takes the girl away to relax privately.
“And then someone tells me that he has lost both parents,” Hanya says.

On Tuesday, Hanya is looking at five colorful kites in the sky from her balcony.
“I like a kite – she is like an active task of hope,” she says. “Every kite is a pair of children there, which is trying a normal childhood in the middle of all this.”
Watching kites flying makes a good change in drones, jets and “killing machines”, Hanya is used to look above her apartment, she says. But later on that evening, the “night orchestra” of a nearby drone buzzed on the pitches of discord. She describes the sound that they make as “psychological torture”.
“Sometimes they are so loud that you cannot even hear your thoughts,” she says. “They are reminiscent of that they are looking there, waiting, ready to bounce.”
On Thursday morning, Hanya listens loudly, constantly gunshot and wonders what it could be. Perhaps theft. Perhaps a turf war between families. Perhaps someone is defending the warehouse.
She spends most of the day in bed. She feels dizzy every time she tries to get up and puts down for the effect of fasting ahead of Eid al-Aadha, when she is already very malnourished.
Hanya says what she eats – and lack of control over the rest of her life – is a major psychological effect.
“You can’t control anything – not even your thoughts, not even your good, even who you are, not even,” she says. “It took me some time to accept the fact that I am no longer the person I identify myself.”
The school in which Hanya used to teach has been destroyed, and the idea of reading abroad is now far away.
“I thought I was a gallit,” Hanya says, “was made like all these things. As it was not true.”

The next morning, Hanya wakes up for the sound of birds and the sound of calls for prayer.
This is the first day of Eid al-Dada, when his father usually sacrificed a sheep and shared meat with the needy and his relatives. But his family no longer has a means of traveling and there is no animal to sacrifice anyway.
She says, “Not all the population of Gaza is eating any type of protein, outside the canned feeva beans, now for three months,” she says.
Hanya’s family learns that one of his cousins has been killed while trying to get help.
“To be honest, I didn’t know her very well,” she says, “but it is a normal tragedy of a hungry person, looking for food and shooting in that process that is quite frightening.”
Hundreds of shooting incidents and hundreds of deaths have occurred in recent weeks or at the aid distribution points. It is disputed and difficult to verify the circumstances without being able to report independently in Gaza.
Hanya knows at least 10 people who have lost their lives during the war. This number includes many of his students and a colleague, who had engaged a month before the war began. She was the same age as Hanya and shared her ambition.
Hanya is updating her CV to remove the name of her college professor. He was his referee and writing mentor – but he is still dead.
“This is a very big thing when someone tells you that they see you, they believe in you, and they bet on you,” she says.
Hanya does not think that she is properly unhappy for any of these people, and says that she feels that she has to give ration to her feelings, if any of her close family is hurt.
“Mourning is a luxury that many of us cannot tolerate.”

Crowing cocks mark the beginning of another new day, and Hanya is taking a beautiful pink and blue morning from the balcony. She says that she has developed the habit of seeing the sky as an escape.
“It is very difficult to find beauty in Gaza. Everything is gray, or soot-covered, or destroyed,” Hanya says.
“One thing about the sky is that it gives you color and gives a relief of beauty that lacks earth.”