Tribune News Network
Doha
THE GAZAN
(Ghazal Othman, QF alumna who, at the age of 13, lost her mother in Gaza, and who left Gaza in 2021)
It feels like this last year has gone on forever. We thought there was no way the world would let Gaza enter 2024 still suffering. We kept hoping the aggression against Gaza and the Palestinians would end by Ramadan, then by Eid. Yet we are here, about to welcome 2025, and the genocide still goes on. That is hard to accept.
As an expatriate during the aggression, every second stretched into what felt like an eternity. I remember those nights very well – nights when I could not sleep until dawn broke. Having lived through the aggression in Gaza, I knew all too well what night meant there.
Each step I took was laced with guilt. Drinking a glass of water reminded me of the thirsty souls back home; bathing like a luxury they could no longer afford; and every bite of food stuck in my throat, weighed down by sorrow and shame. I recall the early days of the aggression when I could not bring myself to step outside. When I did, it was a difficult moment – I was confronted by a world that seemed to continue as if nothing had happened, oblivious to the suffering I carried in my heart.
The occupation did not just take my mother from me once, but twice. The first was when she died because she was not allowed to travel for treatment abroad. The second time is during the recent genocide, where I find myself wondering if she feels even more alone now that we all had to leave Gaza, leaving her behind. I fear I may never again be able to visit her grave – I do not even know if her grave still exists.
I have a sister in the West Bank, and it has been impossible for us to see each other since 2015. I have a sister in the US, a sister in Luxembourg, I am in Doha, and my family is in Egypt. We are dispersed, and that is the reality that life has imposed upon us.
My only relief is that my family are now outside Gaza. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about Gaza every day. While I continue my life in Qatar, whenever life is uncertain, the one thing that always gives me comfort is knowing that I have a home to return to – a place where I belong, no matter what.
Gazans should not be thought of as extraordinary people who can tolerate horrific events or are indifferent to death. They’re normal people who love life and have dreams. It can feel that people think what is happening to Palestinians is normal, and that we’re expected to endure, be patient, and just hold out. We don’t want to just hold out, but there is no other option. We wish there was.
THE VOLUNTEER
(Muna Al-Musalmani, volunteer and QF alumna)
While the events that followed October 7 were painful, Palestinians have been facing this for many years. The first things that always come to my mind are "Why does this happen? When did we stop caring? Did we fail to protect them?” And these are not just questions I ask of myself, but of society.
Even those who have no connection to Palestine are affected by what is happening there. It is difficult not to be, when you see these massacres. Anyone who has any sense of humanity is affected by what we see in Gaza.
My hope, every day, is that Palestine will be liberated – it is just a matter of when. We know that it will be, God willing. One day, I hope I will go to sleep and wake up the next day and the news that Palestine has been liberated will reach us. I know we sometimes feel it is difficult to help the Palestinian people, or that the war will not stop whatever we do, but it is wrong to think this way.
There is no such thing as just doing a little for the people of Palestine. We all have our capabilities, and we need to ask: "Can we put those capabilities to use for these people, whether it’s through raising social awareness, spreading the message, speaking out?”
A year has already passed. We cannot be silent.
THE ACTIVIST
(John Carlos Burog, culture and politics student at QF)
The first time I heard about Palestine was from a Filipino-Palestinian classmate, whose father was from Gaza, when I was at elementary school in Doha. At the time, I was a boy with no real understanding of how the world worked, and I saw what was happening in Palestine as just another war. But then I dug deeper, and learned of the travails and suffering of Palestinians, I found it irrational, inexplicable. Why is it that these people had to go to Qatar rather than stay in their own land?
I attended protests and talks to educate myself about the Palestinian cause, and felt both embarrassed and humbled by what I had not previously known. When I was studying in Washington D.C. in January, I attended a march for Gaza, and it was amazing because I saw such a host of people advocating for Palestinians – Hispanics, Filipinos, orthodox Jews, African Americans. Just to see that diversity of people who recognize that this struggle is not local, but transnational, filled me with hope that the world can be changed.
And I hope we can change the narrative, not only for the Palestinians who so deserve justice and freedom, but in terms of re-envisioning how we see freedom and how we practice it, regardless of where we come from or the religion we practice. Today’s world is divided by those who would like to see us remain divided.
Palestine is not just a cause for Palestinians. It’s a cause that everyone should fight for in the name of humanity. If we ignore other people’s right to freedom, we are not truly free.
THE ACADEMIC
(Prof Josef Meri, Palestinian-American Senior Fellow at Georgetown University)
In the weeks after October 7, 2023, I felt an extreme sense of dread and despair about the inability of governments to stop genocide and the loss of innocent lives, and to prevent further bloodshed. And I also saw this as a teaching moment.
In the fall of 2023, I was teaching a course at Georgetown University that focused on Palestinian writers and literature. I felt that what I could offer was to teach students about Palestine, its history, and the relations that existed between Muslims, Christians, and Jews before 1948. There are small but meaningful steps and actions that professors and students can take. We must sometimes have uncomfortable discussions about tragedies like the genocide in Gaza, because students are there to be challenged.
We should consider establishing programmes at high schools and at universities, and at elementary school level, where greater awareness of Palestinian culture and society, as well as interfaith relations, is promoted. There aren’t enough courses on Palestine that go beyond conflict and deal with the history, culture, and society of Palestine. Studies of Palestine are currently largely defined by political contours, but there is so much more to understanding Palestine.
What I ultimately see is a Palestinian state established from the ground up by like-minded people who are not afraid to set aside preconceived notions and actively engage with each other across lines of difference. That is essential for forging a future.
In our societies, would we tolerate genocide, famine, and disease? The answer would almost certainly be "no”. So we should not, under any circumstances, accept what is happening in Gaza. Overtures are not enough.