Gaza’s Post-Apocalyptic Reality

TEHRAN (Defapress) - Securing a meal in Gaza is neither simple nor ordinary, it is an all-out war. Due to Zionist sabotage and oppression, aid routes and humanitarian assistance to this strip have been cut off, and the global outcry has been reduced to mere statements of solidarity.

Below is an excerpt from a report prepared by an Arab media outlet:

"Muhammad Abu Sheikh," a young man from Beit Hanoun, Gaza, told an Arab media outlet: "Every day before sunrise, I line up at the bakery, and sometimes I return empty-handed. Here, bread is as precious as gold."

"Malak Ahmed Al-Nabih," a ten-year-old child, sits on the floor in a corner of a school sheltering hundreds of displaced people, drawing on a ruined wall with a piece of charcoal. Her drawings are not of flowers or kites—but of a mother weeping over a lifeless body.

"We hear warplanes every day," she says. "We’re scared, and we don’t know where to run."

Schools in northern Gaza have been closed for months, but the children have not given up on learning. They have learned how to hide under desks, how to run to shelters, and how to hold back their tears so as not to worry their mothers.

In one of the streets of Nuseirat, we meet "Abu Raed Mashtahy," who has set up his sewing machine among the ruins of his destroyed shop. "I sew clothes for people for free," he says. "No one has to pay."

Life in Gaza goes on, but nothing here is normal. Women hang laundry on downed power lines, children play on rubble, and men guard their homes, not from thieves, but from warplanes.

Later, the reporter speaks to a doctor working in a field hospital, who says: "We are not inexperienced, but we have no equipment. We perform surgeries without anesthesia, and here, people die simply because medical supplies are blocked."

The people of Gaza do not just feel trapped between walls and tanks, they are also besieged by global cowardice.

Yet, dreams cannot be bombed. Despite everything, spirits remain unbroken. Some families gather for prayer, others tell stories to their children. Some grow vegetables on rooftops, while others organize soccer matches for kids in schoolyards.

"Nadia," a young woman from Gaza, writes in her diary every day to document the pain and hopes of her people. "We don’t want the world’s pity," she says. "We want them to hear our voice."

Gaza will not die, it will scream. Gaza is not a victim of fate, but a victim of occupation and a global siege by those who have chosen to watch. Yet, what the world still fails to understand is this: A people who love their homeland will never be defeated.