The Israeli bombardment and shelling to Gaza escalated sharply this morning, leaving dead 40 Palestinian victims, two thirds of them are civilians and one third of these civilians are children and women. Gaza Health Ministry officials also said over 120 people were wounded and 14 were in critical condition.
For a minute, I could not believe the figure. Yesterday, there was 27 dead and today there is another 40. All in all, this makes the total 67. If divided by the past 48 hours, the rate of killing reaches 1.5 per an hour. Gaza is a slaughter house.
I phoned Gaza as usual to get some news. This time the call was to my sister, the pharmacists who live in Khan Younis. I was astonished to learn that she was not at work. Why? The first question I raised. Your work is very much needed at these days.
With calm voice she replied I could not go to work today. And she started to tell the story. Two people were killed before the pharmacy where I work and I could not do anything. I had my baby with me at work and I was taking the blood pressure of a pregnant lady when a rocket struck a car next to the pharmacy’s door. The blast was so strong.
I left the pharmacy and went to see what had happened. The car was on fire. The people there were burning. What I can do to save their lives? The sound of the Israeli planes were still in the sky hovering. What would be their next target? I asked myself. My baby was crying behind. The woman carried him and ran away far from the scene.
For a minute, my mind stopped thinking. My tears were frozen in my eyes while looking at the car powerless. What shall I do at this moment? Shall I save my life and run away or shall I try to do anything to help the victims? But to what extent my help can help at this moment? After all what can be done from my end? Nothing, I whispered to myself. The vicitms on the car are burnt. Yet, I started to call an ambulance but there was no signal. People started to gather bringing water to set the fire off.
The sound of the plane is getting clearer and people started to run away. I found myself running with the crowd. People started to call me pointing at the lady who holds my baby. I got him and ran for our lives. Since then and I am at home. I do nothing but listening to news, calling my family at the camp, my husband at work and friends where the bombs fall and praying. From the news, I learnt that the two men were from our neighborhood: one from Al Farra family and the other from Shamia. They work at the municipality of Khan Younis and they were in their way back home after finishing their work.
I am very upset, very tired, very sad and very frustrated. I got a degree in a pharmacy to be of some help to my community in such bleak days. Yet time and again, I find myself in a position that could not provide a thing beyond tears and confusion.
At the end of this day the number of victims has reached 55.
For a minute, I could not believe the figure. Yesterday, there was 27 dead and today there is another 40. All in all, this makes the total 67. If divided by the past 48 hours, the rate of killing reaches 1.5 per an hour. Gaza is a slaughter house.
I phoned Gaza as usual to get some news. This time the call was to my sister, the pharmacists who live in Khan Younis. I was astonished to learn that she was not at work. Why? The first question I raised. Your work is very much needed at these days.
With calm voice she replied I could not go to work today. And she started to tell the story. Two people were killed before the pharmacy where I work and I could not do anything. I had my baby with me at work and I was taking the blood pressure of a pregnant lady when a rocket struck a car next to the pharmacy’s door. The blast was so strong.
I left the pharmacy and went to see what had happened. The car was on fire. The people there were burning. What I can do to save their lives? The sound of the Israeli planes were still in the sky hovering. What would be their next target? I asked myself. My baby was crying behind. The woman carried him and ran away far from the scene.
For a minute, my mind stopped thinking. My tears were frozen in my eyes while looking at the car powerless. What shall I do at this moment? Shall I save my life and run away or shall I try to do anything to help the victims? But to what extent my help can help at this moment? After all what can be done from my end? Nothing, I whispered to myself. The vicitms on the car are burnt. Yet, I started to call an ambulance but there was no signal. People started to gather bringing water to set the fire off.
The sound of the plane is getting clearer and people started to run away. I found myself running with the crowd. People started to call me pointing at the lady who holds my baby. I got him and ran for our lives. Since then and I am at home. I do nothing but listening to news, calling my family at the camp, my husband at work and friends where the bombs fall and praying. From the news, I learnt that the two men were from our neighborhood: one from Al Farra family and the other from Shamia. They work at the municipality of Khan Younis and they were in their way back home after finishing their work.
I am very upset, very tired, very sad and very frustrated. I got a degree in a pharmacy to be of some help to my community in such bleak days. Yet time and again, I find myself in a position that could not provide a thing beyond tears and confusion.
At the end of this day the number of victims has reached 55.
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