Voices from Gaza

Wafa Ba’lushah

A 35-year-old mother of four from Jabalya Refugee Camp

My husband and I live with our four children, ages seven to 14, in my sister’s house. We pay her only NIS 300 (NIS 1 = USD 0.28) per month in rent, but we can’t always pay even that. The house is small and made of tin with a shingled roof. Every winter, we suffer from leaks and flooding that destroy all our belongings. It’s very hard to live in this house in the summer too, because it gets very hot. I’m eight months pregnant, and when it’s hot, I sleep on the floor to cool down a bit. I dream of having a little house made of concrete. That’s all I ask for.  

I also dream of having power in the house constantly. Ever since we got married 15 years ago, the power has been a source of suffering for my husband Maher (39) and me. I wait for the power to come, but then, sometimes, it gets cut off all of a sudden, right when I’m baking bread, for example, and the dough spoils until the power comes back on; or in the middle of laundry, and then we have no clean clothes for at least two days. Maher dreams of working in Israel so he can provide for us and we can fulfill some of our simple dreams. Our fridge and burners are so old and worn out. I dream of having new appliances that work properly. We don’t have running water at home, and we fetch water from the mosque nearby. 

Every three months, we get a food package from UNRWA. Until two years ago, we got a NIS 1,000 benefit from the Ministry of Welfare. I wish I had a steady income and could give my children some pocket money when they go to school. 

My children go to the UNRWA school, two in the morning shift and two in the evening shift. The fact that they’re on different schedules makes life very complicated for me and wears me down. Our eldest son, Fayez (14), needs tutoring, but unfortunately, I can’t afford it. He also has medical issues and needs treatment we can’t afford. We have occasionally been able to get funding for his treatment from charities, but it’s not enough.  

We live in Gaza like in a big prison. We are closed in here with no possibility of exiting and going to other places, even in our homeland. I really hope that one day, I’ll be able to pray at al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem and, visit the West Bank, get to know all the cities and villages there. My husband, my children and I don’t have passports. I have no idea how it feels to travel the world.  

My biggest dream is to live in security and stability. That’s why I hope my husband will find a permanent job with a normal salary. 

* Testimony given to B'Tselem Field Researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 9 September 2022.