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Refugee Stories
Refugee Parents Despair as Gaza Streets Turn into
Battlegrounds:
"My children are terrified all the time. We don’t know
what to do”.

“Now life in Gaza is complete” says Um-Salim, a painful sarcasm
tinging her words. Um-Saleem speaks as she run s towards the hospital
after hearing that camp children were injured during recent factional
infighting.
”It is not enough that we have to live in deep poverty and sadness.
Now death comes, without warning, to kill our children, our dreams and
our hope.”

Umm-Salim has four children and lives in Shati refugee camp on the
western edge of Gaza City. “I told my children not to go into the
streets because the situation is really dangerous. There is shooting
everywhere and bullets have no mercy”.
Um-Salim is one among thousands of refugee parents afraid to let
their children go to school because of the internal fighting raging in
the streets. Despite her fears, Umm-Salim admits she is powerless to
stop her children’s desire to go out and play. "They are children”, she
says. "If they are not in school, they are full of energy and must do
something."

Clashes
take place throughout the day, and after dark the nightmare continues,
too. “We cannot sleep at night. The sound of bullets and explosions
remind us of the Israeli invasions into Gaza. My children are terrified
all the time. We don’t know what to do”.
Amal, a young university student, confirms Un-Salim's fears. “My
father swears to God that he will never allow me or my brothers to go to
school under these circumstances." Six of Amal's brothers attend UNRWA
schools. "He says said that our lives are more important to him than
education."
As she speaks, Amal's expression grows wistful. "I love and respect
my father, but I miss classes and my friends at school so much! I waited
so many years to finally begin university. I want the fighting to stop.
I want to go back to school ! "
Mahmood Bashir, a 45 year old father of eight from Shati refugee camp
stands in his doorway, nervously looking down the alley. “Instead of
going to school to learn something useful for their future, children are
out in the streets now." Pointing to house after house on the narrow
alleyway, Bashir counts five children here, nine children there, another
six after that. "Our street is packed of children."

"UNRWA had no choice. It had to close its schools in order to protect
the lives of children," Bashir continues, his frustration mounting. "But
our children have missed so many days of school due to Israeli military
operations! Now they will miss even more."
"No matter how much I sacrificed in my life so that my children will
have a better life... Now I see that education, progress, is forsaken.
As a father and as a Palestinian, I am sad and angry." Bashir turns
away. "What can I achieve today? To prevent a bullet from hitting my
child? Where can I find hope in that?"
Gaza, February 2007
By Adnan Abu Hasna and Maysa Gayyusi
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