Soha Ahmed Hamdouna writes in Mondoweiss on 20 January 2025:
The night the Gaza truce was announced was different—no sleep, no rest, just a wait that resembled the eve of a holiday. But this time, the holiday did not bring children’s laughter or decorative lights. All eyes were fixed on the clock, waiting for the announcement —the declaration of the end of a 15-month bloodbath without pause.
Everyone was in a state of anticipation. Each person had their own answer to the one question everyone was asking among family and friends: “What’s the first thing you’ll do when the truce begins?”
My friend Jumana spoke in a hoarse voice, saying, “I will cry. Yes, I will cry a lot for those who left and will never return. For the martyrs who departed, leaving behind a void that nothing can fill.”
My friend Noor expressed another face of grief, mixed with hope, saying, “I will scream and dance on the rubble—not out of joy, but because the river of blood has finally stopped.”
Nada told me, “I was sitting next to my mother when they announced the truce. She quickly grabbed the pictures of my martyred brothers, Mahmoud and Ahmed, and started sobbing like never before. It wasn’t just silent tears; it was cries filled with anguish. She screamed, ‘Life will return to everyone except you. For me, the war starts now!’” “I couldn’t calm her down—these weren’t just tears; they were delayed tears, grief that had been postponed for too long. I joined her in crying, but I was helpless in the face of her pain.”
Mohammed Al-Rayes, a family friend said he eagerly awaited the truce, not to celebrate, but to return to the north and search for the place where his daughters were buried under the rubble.