In Gaza - Patience you need - is Written on the Wall !

Photo Khaled  N Safi

By Hiyam Noir

September 3 2010

GAZA - I see her again today, around the commodity of Mzjap. She sits down at the edge of the side walk, silently she thanks Allah and say she is blessed by his mercy, the zestful pleasure of sitting in the shadow under threes, protecting her from the sun.

She wave away some flies from her face, while her left hand resting on her knee holding a small Almtkom under it's wing,not knowing how to best deal with his hard breathing.

In Gaza the air pollution is high today in this humid weather .

The emissions from car exhausts make the air dangerous to inhale.The beggar on the sidewalk is exposed to all the toxic fumes, she say she wish that some of the cars driving by would not smell so bad and should not fill the air with black sticky smoke.The poor women is suffering from asthma,I can see it, it is written all over her face. 

I reach out towards her open hand, and give her the money,a fifty dollar bill I kept in the back pocket of my jeans. I then realise that with the tree shekel  left, I will have to walk the way back home. 

So what.compared to her, the beggar, I am free, I  have a clean passport, I can leave this gloomy place, this prison that is Gaza when ever I please - she, is trapped here, without money she have no access to most basic needs.This poor women never in her life had a chance to make planes for a disaster  survival. From the day she was born, her life has been a struggle, marked by so many disaster scenarios.

I wave her goodbye and walk down the unpaved street ,and stop by a vendors table. I stand there for a while just watching the slow commerce.When I show my concern about her few sales, she tell me that she have seen better days. She say,"now I am forced to redevelop my trade and try to expand my resources".

She sits on a white plastic chair beside a table short of supply, a few boxes of face-tissue paper, some cigarette lighters, balloons, fresh Minta, and some small children toys. While she patiently sits there and wait for customers,she knows that she can not expect to sell like she did before.

A few years ago, life in the refuge camp was still a struggle. But almost every day she could serve her family new baked bread,humus,milk to the children, tea and sweets,chicken, fruit and nuts.

Life has changed drastically,in these days of unrest. She tell me, her husband was killed in the very first day of the Israelis war on Gaza. Like so many others here in Gaza, who lost family members, they have also lost their job and their income, she, the street vendor, simply does not have the money required to invest to expand her business.

While I stand there, I can easy on one hand count the number of people whom stop by. They are them self trying hard every day to cope with the reality of life here in Gaza, where life is extremely difficult for everyone,it is  a daily struggle to survive. 

Samaha, a young women is walking away without buying anything. She is leaving keeping her head high and proud. When she walk away  I can hear her reciting endlessly, memorizing what she should have bought, the few things written on her shopping list, she simply cannot afford to buy them.She could not buy what she wanted,the very best she could afford with her little money.

Now she tell her self, she spared all that what she had,a few shekel for her husbands needs. She said to me, that her husband kept telling her, that he does not want or need the clemency - but perhaps she, his young wife should buy treatment for her self.

When she walk away, I notice her hands crossed on the top of her chest, her hands move up and down, when she struggle to inhale some air,I believe she is probably in need of pure oxygen. Her chest is drained by fluid, caused by all the dust and smoke in the air, she is forced to breath to keep her self a life.end.

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