Testimony of Suzan al-Jarusha (45), a mother of two girls (5 and 7), who lived with her family in the tower, about losing her home
15 December 2021
We bought the condo in the tower for 58,000 USD seven years ago, and we’re still making monthly payments on it.
On Saturday, 15 May 2021, around midday, I was making lunch. My daughter Alma, who’s seven, was playing with her toys, and little Talin was sleeping. My husband wasn’t home. I heard knocking on the front door and someone saying “Evacuate the condo. The military’s planning to bomb the tower.” I left the food, got my purse, gathered some clothes for the girls and me, grabbed the two of them and left the house dressed only in a robe. Alma and Talin took a few toys with them. Before leaving, I took one last look at my home. I said goodbye, but I hoped we would come back.
I locked the door, took the key and went downstairs. All the residents were shouting. The women were quickly wrapping themselves in their prayer clothes, and the little children were screaming in a panic. I was busy thinking that my house might be gone soon. I kept thinking about how we’d hardly taken anything with us.
When I got to the fourth floor, I called my husband and told him we were evacuating the tower because it was going to be bombed. On the street, I saw all the tenants crying and screaming. I heard someone saying, “Where’s my daughter Sama?” Everyone was hysterical. It was a terrifying sight.
Suddenly, Alma started crying and yelling, “We forgot the cats! We forgot the cats!” I burst out crying, too. I forgot them upstairs, at home, because when we left all I could think about was how to save my daughters and calm them down so they wouldn’t be scared. I cracked and started crying. It was too late to go back for the cats. I was afraid the building would be bombed any minute.
We met my husband outside. He’d been at his parents’ house, about 500 meters from our tower. He came as soon as I called him, to take us to his parents’. When we got there, I heard the explosions from the bombing of our building. I felt like they were bombing my heart and soul. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life. My house was dear to my heart. It was part of me. My soul was woven into everything in it. My husband cried when we heard the bombing. For a moment, I thought he was having a nervous breakdown.
We stayed with my husband’s parents for almost a week after the war. Then we moved into an apartment we rented in the a-Rimal neighborhood. The rent is 250 USD a month, because the apartment is unfurnished. We’ve been here for a month and a half already, but my thoughts and soul stayed in our condo that was destroyed. I cry and think about it all day. It tugs at my heart. I cry for my home, for the beautiful memories my family and I had there.
We’ve started furnishing our new apartment. It’s a big expense. Everything we’d acquired in life has gone down the drain and is buried under the rubble: furniture, clothes, my gold jewelry, everything you have in a home.
I was born in Saudi Arabia to a family from the West Bank city of Tulkarm. I got married in Egypt in 2010 and from there, entered the Gaza Strip with my husband. I brought a lot of valuable items with me. The contents of the condo were worth about as much as the unit itself. I also had a small doll there – a childhood memento from Saudi Arabia. It’s lost under the rubble, too. My soul was buried under the debris along with my furniture and belongings. I feel like I have a weight on my chest all the time.
Aside from the condo we lived in, my husband had two other units in the building which were used as the offices of his tourism and travel company. He had another company branch, across from al-Jawharah Tower, which was damaged when the tower was bombed before Israel bombed our one. My husband transferred all the documents and equipment to the al-Jalaa Tower branch, and when the tower was bombed, everything was buried under the rubble.
After the debris was cleaned up, I found a few of my things: the gold jewelry, a few photos of us, including of the girls and our wedding, and a folder with all our personal documents. We found our bedroom furniture – the bed and closet – completely destroyed. We also found some perfumes and expensive make-up kits, all under the rubble. I was hardly able to salvage anything, just some of the girls’ toys and games and a few other items. We found our cats dead inside a closet.
Now, in the rented apartment, I keep feeling like it’s temporary, like my home is still standing there and I’ll go back to it soon. My daughters are still shaken, too. The fear they went through, and the loss of the house, have really hurt them. They don’t want to go play outside anymore, and they don’t have any friends in our new neighborhood. All their friends were the sons and daughters of the neighbors in the tower that was destroyed. They’d always take their games and go play with them in the lobby. My daughters have lost everything: their friends, their games and their other possessions. They keep in touch with their friends over the phone and on video calls. I’m very sad for them.
I came to Gaza on my own. I don’t have anyone here. My mother lives in Tulkarm, and my siblings in Saudi Arabia. I haven’t seen my mother in years. I made several applications to travel to see her through Erez Crossing, and was denied. The DCO rejected my application every time. These attempts and disappointments have emotionally drained me.
The residents in the building were like family, and I feel like I’ve lost the family I’d lived with for seven years. We had a beautiful, genuine friendship, and now I feel like I’ve moved to another country again – no friends, no neighbors. We’ve all scattered all over the place. I’m depressed. I feel like I’ve lost everything.
What keeps me going is the hope that my life will go back to what it was. That one day, I’ll go back to living among my friends and neighbors from the tower. My daughters keep asking me when we’ll go back home.
The Israeli military wanted to hurt us, but we’re just civilians, and they attacked us inside our homes. They made years of work go down the drain and stole every beautiful piece of memory from us, everything I have left from my father who passed away and from my mother. These are things that cannot be compensated.
Testimony given to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 18 July 2021
