For more than 500 days, Gaza has been suffering — not only from killing, displacement, bombing, and injustice but also from heartbreak, loss, and sorrow. I don’t believe that any live stream, voice recording, video, or news report of this genocide could ever fully convey what is happening.

When the opportunity arose to go to Gaza and offer what little help we could, we didn’t hesitate. As a nurse, I registered to go — not only to provide medical care but also to listen, to understand what cannot be captured on television or live broadcasts.

I spent an entire week there, focusing all my strength on my work as a nurse while also trying to collect stories. It was incredibly difficult to maintain both my physical and emotional strength. What I heard was not easy to process, and I could barely gather the strength to continue my mission.

I cannot imagine how these people endured what they went through, yet they continue to live for the future. There is resilience, hope, and an unbreakable spirit. I couldn’t focus on just one story; instead, there was a mix of old and new moments, words that left a deep impact. Words that might seem ordinary on any other day, but in Gaza, nothing is ordinary.

‎During the long days of war, amidst destruction and heartbreak, the people of Gaza raised their voices. They tell not just of suffering but of truth, a truth that can no longer be ignored.

‎”This is my Mom; I know her from her hair.” A child holds on to a memory, finding his mother in a simple strand of hair.

‎”His name is Youssef, 7 years old, curly hair, white and sweet.” A mother’s love immortalizes her son, even as war takes him away.

‎”The kids died without eating.” These words echo the unbearable price of conflict on the most innocent lives.

‎”I was planning to celebrate her birthday.” Even the smallest moments of joy were stolen, yet the love behind them remains undiminished.

The world has now opened its eyes to these voices filled with loss, love, and resilience. For decades, there was silence, but Gaza’s cries have broken through the barriers of indifference. People across the globe now see the truth, they see the occupied and the occupier, the oppressed and the oppressor. They recognize the injustice that has been denied for too long.

‎As Rafeef Ziadah once said in her powerful poem “We Teach Life, Sir,” Gaza’s pain has become a lesson for the world. The people of Gaza teach life every day. While war rages around them, they teach love through their longing for family, hope through their dreams of peace, and resilience in their unyielding determination to survive.

‎”I want Mama, where is Mama?”

‎”Please, Dad, wake up. Please tell me you’re joking.”

‎”Yesterday I buried her father, and today we buried her.”

‎These voices carry the truth of a people who have endured unimaginable suffering but never lost their humanity. They teach the world about life in the face of death and hope in the face of despair.

‎For over 500 days, Gaza faced the horrors of war, and while the ceasefire is an important step, we still need to go further. Although many people have opened their eyes to the genocide and the decades-long ethnic cleansing, many people still have not, and more importantly, countries are still supplying weapons for genocide and aren’t lifting a finger to actually help Palestinians. We must continue to amplify these voices and fight to make sure that Gazans actually can rebuild their homes, reclaim dreams, and fight for a future of peace and dignity. And we need to push for a world where they do not have to endure this ever again and where their voices, their stories, and their truth will no longer be silenced.