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A young man named Karim, a qualified medical professional in his twenties, is originally from Gaza City. Until the latest evacuation directive issued by Israel, he lived in the ruins of his former home with his mother, father, and siblings. He has now been displaced over a dozen times due to the conflict and escaped an aerial bombardment in southern Gaza. He kept a journal over the past month.

17 August 2025

After two years, I've abandoned optimism. I don't believe the reports about the war ending. My dad insists we must relocate to central Gaza soon, prior to they force us out once more. If it were anyone else, the United Nations might have intervened. But for us, no action. Now they talk about sending us to South Sudan – a land racked by internal conflict, overflowing with refugees. There are two million of us, trapped in under 20 square kilometers, just waiting to die slowly. And the world will shrug. A former leader once said, "We will perhaps eventually pardon the Palestinians for taking our children's lives, but it will be more difficult for us to excuse them for having forced us to end their children's lives." That sums it up. Sometimes, I think Israel ought to be analyzed by mental health experts – perhaps then the world would grasp the insanity we endure.

18 August 2025

I caught a ride to Deir al-Balah with a acquaintance – it felt like an bold move: vehicles modified to carry extra people, attached carts like lifeboats. You cling tightly with all your strength, because if you don't, you could tumble onto the open road and be left behind.

Near a central roundabout I saw a "fire belt" – a ribbon of fire across the heavens. Military aircraft created a trail of explosions above the northern area, in succession; ash clouds rose and all beneath was erased. I tallied several missiles – then stopped counting because it seemed pointless. I must locate refuge for my loved ones – an flat, a garage, any small place. My mind keeps slipping, I forget things, I miss appointments – the chaos steals them. All I sense is a constant anxiety and the hollow hope that we will still be here the next day.

August 19, 2025

The day before, I finally managed to get a garage – around $400, approximately 335 pounds a 30 days. That's the cheapest you can find, because need is great while houses and buildings are bombed to the ground. This "garage" has almost no roof. The landlord even offered me a tiny apartment for over $600 – honestly, even a luxury apartment in Dubai is that expensive. In wars and crises people grow hostile, self-centered, looking to benefit from the suffering of others. And maybe that's "typical", or instead the expected behaviour of a person who has endured two years of forced displacement, removal, famine – particularly inside the world's largest prison.

So I started arranging my new home – cleaning, organizing, trying to make it livable. I must not permit even a moment to think about my old room prior to the violence, my box-spring bed, my gaming desk, the cooling unit, our home … I cannot let longing to consume me. I just continue forward. Onward, onward – never looking back.

August 28, 2025

For a week now I've been separated from my mother and father. Despite what my dad first stated, they hold on to optimism – or to refusal – believing that all the negotiations between the various mediators means the northern region won't be evacuated. So they decline to move. For 24 months the global powers has done as it pleases while we drown, and we clutch at the tiniest false hopes – the fragile supports that keep us breathing. The harsh reality is the authorities were always clear about their objectives: "We will destroy Gaza." They succeeded. "You will be moved." They accomplished that. "We will cut off food and water." They did. "We'll invade Rafah." All eyes turned there. A US leader said no – they proceeded regardless. What comes next? My hometown. It will be cleared, become a wasteland like the southern area. I'm taking a brief respite now – a brief, fragile peace I've deserved.

September 9, 2025

My mother and father are finally with me. We turned the garage into a dwelling – areas, a small personal zone. Naturally the barriers are just vinyl sheets. I managed to get the internet for a short time. It has come to this: the military has issued a forced displacement order for all of Gaza City, encompassing the west side. Residents have exhausted, no money, no desire to leave their homes – numerous individuals would rather die than depart.

This day our neighbour told us the Israelis even bombed a Gulf state. OMG. They have no limits now. Qatar – with the biggest US installation in the region – was reportedly hit by a power allied with the United States. I believe it's obvious what follows and what it means for the population: genocide until the last breath. They've been given carte blanche.

15 September 2025

My mother's birthday – one more modest observance under brutal conditions. The situation relaxed a bit, but this is not the existence we were destined for. My device displayed images from her birthday in 2022: a homemade cake and my favourite American treat. I remember giving her 1984 by George Orwell – we burned it for food at the end of 2023 because we had no fuel or timber to bake. How would the writer think of us now? I prefer to think he'd understand our actions. I wiped my tears in private and continued on. The central area is getting fuller and fuller. Individuals are exhausted: they don't want to die, but many believe they are already dead.

I grasped my mom's palm, kissed it, and whispered "Happy birthday". She has been unwell for several days. I wrote her a letter and said sorry because I lack a penny for a cake (which would be priced at seventy dollars) or even a small gift.

September 21, 2025

Countries like the UK and Australia have recognised the Palestinian state as a state – what's the reason and for what purpose? The state keeps attacking us, the genocide goes on. But now we can officially die as Palestinian people, we have a state. What a comfort.

Following immense hardship, so many countries that have rejected for nearly two years that the organized eradication of a people was occurring in Gaza are suddenly speaking up. Actors, singers and others participate because it's become mainstream. Previously, people would shrug and say, "Oh no, I don't know enough about the region, it's too sensitive for me to comment." Hypocrites.

25 September 2025

Same cruel routine, day after day – individuals perish from starvation, from debility, from the missiles that never stop. A individual nearby died recently. At first I assumed it must have been the usual horror – a raid, a random shot. But it wasn't. He simply collapsed. His life ended. I remain shocked how mundane his passing seemed, how rapidly a life can disappear and leave only a hollow silence. I was stunned, like I'd been anaesthetised to this type of tragedy and suddenly woke up.

My daily routine is a guide to staying alive: fetch water, {scavenge for