President Trump views war zones such as Ukraine and Gaza merely as economic opportunities untouched by the tragic human stories lived out daily by ordinary people. People who are just like us. There was a time when they too were safe in their homes, going to work, paying off mortgages and spending time with friends and family. Now their fate may well be determined by a distant political actor who sees their treasured homeland as nothing more than a real-estate opportunity.
A Gazan family
Tareq Abusabha and his wife, Heba were hard workers. In their mid-thirties, they had three children and strove to provide a secure home for their family. Heba worked on short term contracts as a supply teacher and was looking forward to a permanent position. Tareq studied mathematics, but work was hard to find and he tried his hand at several jobs, including as a taxi driver, and animator for international organizations before borrowing the money to open a shop.
He gradually built up a successful business selling everything from stationery, to perfumes, gifts and toys. Over time the business flourished, and with Tareq working seven days a week and Heba earning as a teacher, they were able to repay their loans and buy a television, a sofa and curtains and finally a family car. Since their first child, a son named Ziad, was born eight years ago, the couple saw their fortunes and their family expand. A second son, Kinan, now six, arrived, followed by a daughter, Sila, now aged four.
Life wasn’t easy but they at last had some financial stability. With their own home, and living near friends, their parents and wider family, they felt they had a bright future ahead.
Normal life in Gaza comes to an end
When asked where he and his family lived, Tareq named the Beit Lahia Project in northern Gaza. Maybe his heart is still there but this is no longer their home. The car was destroyed just four months after it was purchased, along with the shop. The swimming pool and park where his children played, Ziad’s school, Kinan’s kindergarten and their comfortable home with its plush dark red, cushioned sofa were all destroyed by an Israeli missile.
“Lost in an instant,” as Tareq told me.
The day a Gazan family’s dreams died
On 8 November 2023, Ziad was in a good mood. Aged seven at the time, he was happy because the family had managed to secure some clean drinking water, which was hard to find. He trotted up to his grandparents’ apartment on the top floor from where the water was accessible, holding two bottles to fill up and take to their neighbour who was unwell.
As Ziad was concentrating on bottles of water, a missile tore into the neighbour’s house, sending a lethal shower of rubble and shrapnel flying into the air, some of it finding Ziad. His injuries were extensive. He suffered concussion, a broken jaw, heavy bleeding and an abdominal wound, along with multiple other injuries to his body. Tareq took him to the Al-Awd hospital where he had an emergency operation. He was then transferred to the Indonesian hospital – already besieged with casualties and straining from a lack of fuel, medical supplies and essential equipment – where he had brain scans and further surgery.
He stayed there in a critical condition until 20 November when the Israeli Defence Force conducted a hospital raid. They detained medical staff and some patients, claiming that the hospital was being used as a command centre for Hamas, allegations refuted by staff and Palestinian officials.
Despite being in a critical condition, patients including Ziad were forcibly evacuated. Tareq went to look for him, wondering where he could take him next for medical help. But there was no help available to Ziad who closed his eyes for the last time in his father’s arms that day.
Ziad had no funeral. He was wrapped in a shroud and buried under a tree.
Displacement at gun point
Last year the family home was completely reduced to rubble. The family headed west, seeking safety and any sort of shelter. As of this time of writing, they have been uprooted 18 times, with the last time being the most traumatic. They had no time to gather what few belongings they had, as the deafening sound of tanks roaring past and soldiers shouting frightened the children, who started screaming. They were escorted out of the area at gun point and left to seek a new home. That new home is a ragged tent in the rubble which offers protection from neither searing heat nor bitter cold, and no comfort to calm frightened children.
Life is no longer building a future; it’s just surviving the day. Parks and playtime are a distant memory for Kinan and Sila, who now spend their daylight hours on exhausting sorties with their father in search of water and bread. Illness and mental health issues are a daily reality for everyone.
Financial hardship in Gaza means reliance on strangers
The merchants who control the flow of food and other supplies entering Gaza adjust their prices according to the situation at the border. In the absence of outside aid, traders are pushing prices ever higher and the most basic of supplies are becoming financially unattainable.
There are no functioning banks, so people access what money they have left via banking applications on their smart phones. To make a cash withdrawal they have to transfer a sum to the merchants, who then give the cash equivalent to them after deducting a 30% commission. Phones are charged by a solar-powered charger, for a fee. The only source of income left is the kindness of strangers on a GoFundMe page.
An uncertain future but it must be in Gaza
After my conversations with Tareq, Israel announced a complete blockade on food and essential supplies into Gaza.
I went back to ask him how he would cope in the light of this news. He has no answers as to how his family will survive or what they will do.
Tareq cannot give up. Sustained by his faith, and his sense of duty to his family he fights on. But alone in the dark, night fears make their presence felt. He told me of his constant anxiety about the future:
“Will life ever return to normal? Will reconstruction ever begin or will war break out again? If it does, will we survive? Or will be forced into exile once more. And if death awaits, will we perish together, or will I lose the rest of my children? Or will they be the ones to lose me?”
I asked him what he thought about Trump’s plans for Gaza and the removal of the Palestinian people. But to Tareq, Gaza is the only possible home; it represents the identity of their nation, their roots and their history.
He just wants to rebuild a future for himself, Heba, Kinan and Sila in their homeland.
Can you help?
There are so many heart-rending stories of suffering in the world today, it’s easy to feel helpless. But you can do something to make a huge difference. The link to The GoFundMe page Tareq has set up is available here. Or you can donate to the Disasters Emergency Committee Middle East Humanitarian Appeal here.
