Shorouk Taha
“Not a hundred days, but 100 years and a hundred pains.”
I am Shorouk Taha, 29 years old, and specializing in health administration. I worked in the field of health education as well as children’s activities.
Every day, I used to work on developing my skills and experiences. My self-confidence was the primary support for any success. Every day, I took care of my home, my husband, and my son. I used to live the best, most beautiful life, and even though I had little, I was very happy.
Until one day I woke up to the sound of heavy explosions around us. I woke up to a war that has destroyed all the details of my life and the memories that are dear to my heart. Sighs, sadness, and pain increase by the day as we go through pain and massacres.
I separated from my friends and moved to the Indonesian Hospital where we stayed for several days. Without any warning we found ourselves surrounded by the Israelis, their tanks, snipers and shells over our heads. We moved south at 6 o'clock in the morning, under fire and bombings and arrived in Khan Yunis without anything. There, we stayed in the Hamad School for a few days until we decided to evacuate to Rafah. We were displaced from one suffering to another suffering to the Rafah shelter.
Currently, we are in a tent in the depths of the snow, and we cannot find anything to warm me or my son. We sleep on the ground soaked by humidity. I cry every day from the situation we have reached.
Every night I open my phone and look at my pictures. My memories, which were erased by reality and by the occupation.
My life before the war was very beautiful. I always had breakfast with my family. Now, we are all separated and we don't have any news of each other. In the war, my life became a process of searching for the minimum necessities of life, and for a reason to live for. We no longer see anything but condolences and sadness. We stopped seeing laughter on people’s faces. We stopped hearing the words “I am fine.” Everyone is sad and thinking about the decision to stop the war.
I hope that at least one of my beautiful memories will remain with me.
