As I wake up this weekend, I will be in an unfamiliar place: sheltering with dozens of other people in a relative’s home. Hundreds of thousands of people in Gaza find themselves in a similar position.
My siblings and I have moved four times already since the war started three long weeks ago – first, from our home in the north of Gaza to go and stay with our grandparents because the airstrikes were too close. We had to move again after a few days because the bombing got closer still. Entire families were being wiped out every night. We were then told to move to the south. Yet when we did, we were attacked and bombed on the very road we were told to take to safety. It’s fair to say that nowhere is really safe from the bombs. Not even the hospitals and schools.
