I continue to report from Gaza, not because I believe my words may end the war, but because I want to make a record of our existence, our dignity, resilience, hope.
There is a look I have come to recognise—the way a child's eyes widen when they see me... It is hope. A fragile, desperate hope that maybe I carry answers I do not have.
Sometimes, they do not say anything at all. They just walk alongside me, quietly, as if my presence alone is enough to fill the silence that war has left behind.
But what is a story to a new mother who does not even have a mattress to sleep on, let alone to her newborn? I relive these moments every time I sit down to write.
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