The return of Gazans to the Strip is a painful scene in an already painful life Longing for Gaza despite the bitterness and hardship of life

Etidal Rayyan, 29, sat in a narrow corner of her tent inside the Jabalia camp in the northern Gaza Strip, holding her children as if she were trying to make up for a whole year of absence, fear, and displacement. She finally returned to the Strip after a long medical journey in Egypt, but the return was not the end of pain; it was the beginning of a new confrontation with a reality harsher than the one she had left behind.

Two gunshot wounds in her right leg, from bullets that struck her body in 2024, completely changed the course of her life. She was forced to leave Gaza with her husband and children through the Rafah crossing in search of treatment that could save her leg and ease her suffering. Today, she returns carrying the marks of bullets on her body and, in her memory, images of displacement, loss, and the long anxiety her family lived through while waiting for the day of return.

A harsh life In the Jabalia camp, life bears no resemblance to any normal meaning of life: crowded tents, muddy roads, scarce water, and children searching for a place to play amid the rubble. Etidal tries to start again, despite her difficulty in moving and the recurring pain in her leg, and despite the constant feeling that she must remain strong for her children at a time when she can barely stand steadily.

The harshness of life in the Strip does not stop at injury, poverty, or destruction. It extends to small details that weigh on the soul day after day: long waits for aid, constant fear of renewed bombardment, and continuous anxiety about a future that seems uncertain and suspended. For Etidal, even the simplest right to safety has become a postponed dream, and ongoing treatment has turned into a daily challenge amid a severe shortage of medical resources.

Etidal’s story is only one of thousands that capture the pain of life in Gaza, where mere survival becomes a battle. Here, patience is not measured by time, but by the number of losses a person can endure without breaking, and by the ability of mothers to hide their pain behind a small smile so their children will not feel that life in this place is harsher than it should be.