Beneath the incessant buzzing of drones in the sky and amid the grisly carnage and destruction that have decimated the Israeli-occupied Gaza Strip and its starved and traumatized people, voices of courage and steadfastness emanate from every corner of the besieged coastal enclave. They reverberate in the ruins of homes that once stood; in bombed schools that were once filled with the laughter of children; in scorched churches and mosques that once symbolized sanctuary; in destroyed hospitals that were once operational; and by those speaking from undisclosed locations.
One of these voices belongs to Zainab Alqolaq. Born and raised in the Gaza Strip, prior to October 7, she was living in her home, west of Gaza City, before her entire neighborhood was targeted. “The Israeli occupation bombed and destroyed our homes. I evacuated five times: twice in the north and three times in the south. One of these places was a hospital.”
Alqolaq has been struggling with the harsh circumstances she’s been enduring ever since. She’s encountered barriers in accessing basic necessities, such as food, clean drinking water and medicine, noting that on some days, it was simply impossible.
“Every Palestinian has a tragic, miserable, sad, and heartbreaking story caused by the Israeli occupation.” She’s lost loved ones, too, but the pain is intense, and she’s overcome with grief. “I can tell you about my family and friends who I lost during this genocide, but I can’t right now.”
It’s only understandable. Alqolaq’s own life was irrevocably altered during one of Israel’s previous military offensives in the Gaza Strip. It happened at exactly 1:00 a.m. on May 16, 2021.
Without any prior warning, Israeli jets bombarded Al-Wehda Street in al-Rimal, a densely populated neighborhood in the heart of Gaza City. The fierce bombardment lasted only a few minutes, but it left behind a swath of destruction and devastation. Forty-three people were killed, including 19 children. The victims included 22 members of Alqolaq’s family, among them her mother, Amal, her sister, Hanaa, and her brothers, Taher and Ahmad.
That night, Alqolaq’s life hung in the balance. She was ensconced under the rubble of her home for 12 hours, a seemingly endless amount of time in which she struggled to breathe. During the first few hours of being trapped, she was able to communicate with a paramedic through her phone before its battery died. She then spent hours screaming for help until she lost her voice. Eventually, civil defense crews managed to dig through three floors and collapsed ceilings to rescue her.