"Whenever a ceasefire proposal is brought up in Gaza, we briefly feel as though a glimmer of hope is glancing at us from a distance. Many no longer have much hope because we are accustomed to elevating our hopes, waiting for the end, and then being struck with a harsh reality that forces us to start over. How often have we experienced this painful cycle of optimism and letdown?"
"In my family, we do not have much left other than hope. We lost our home, livelihood, dreams, and sense of security. My husband lost his job, I lost my ambitions, and worst of all, my son lost his childhood; he has lost his little world, where he used to feel safe and happy. We truly have nothing left for subsistence. Just last month, I was forced to sell my last valuable my engagement ring to feed my child."
"Following months of famine, in August, Gaza's markets started filling up with goods again, including foods we hadn't seen for months: cheese, oil, and some fruit. But seeing these goods again being available was a cruel experience, as most of us could not afford to buy them. I tried to keep my son away from seeing the cheese, but I failed."
A ceasefire announcement briefly sparked public celebration and fragile hope in Gaza. Repeated cycles of raised expectations followed by harsh disappointment have eroded confidence. A family lost their home, livelihoods, dreams, and sense of security; the husband lost his job and the son lost his childhood. Scarcity forced the mother to sell her engagement ring to buy food. Markets later displayed foods like cheese and oil, but most families could not afford them, painfully exposing children to unobtainable treats. The family remains dependent on hope as their only remaining resource for survival.
Read at www.aljazeera.com
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