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The next 72 hours are critical – I worry Israel will kill us before the ceasefire begins

These final days before the ceasefire are the most terrifying, writes Ammar Kaskeen from the north of Gaza. I worry that Israel will try to finish up the war by dropping more bombs than ever before

Thursday 16 January 2025 10:54 EST
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Humanitarian aid arrives in Gaza through Rafah crossing

In Sheikh Radwan, in northern Gaza, we have been starving and waiting. The next few days leading up to a possible ceasefire feel more dangerous than ever for us Palestinians. Everyone is holding their breath, hoping to live long enough to see the good news realised. We have already seen Israel dropping bombs and killing 46 people since the ceasefire was announced.

For the past 15 months, hoping for a ceasefire has been one of the only things I can do. I have grown used to counting days since the start of this horror: counting the days since I was last able to get flour. I also count the days of our lives.

During the darkest times, when we realised that aid and food weren’t coming, my family and I tried to sustain ourselves with anything we could find. We tried bird food and rabbit food and even tried to grind up cat food. In the first days of this famine, I saw people going to Nabulsi Square, where aid trucks full of wheat flour would distribute quantities that were only enough for a small fraction of us. I would see people dying in attempts to get some flour for their families, but some did come away with flour. At first, I thought that I wouldn’t die for a bag of flour. Later, I realised I was dying of starvation anyway.

So, for six days in February last year, I started my day by walking the 16km to Nabulsi Square where we were forced to run for our lives from the Israeli military jeeps, and then to run back when we had the chance – multiple times. I spent those days walking, running, seeing people killed before my eyes – and going home with nothing.

On the seventh day – February 27 2024 – I waited all day. At 6pm, we got the news that an aid truck would be arriving at any moment. I was weak from not eating, but I felt determined. The eighth day started while we were still waiting but, just after 3am, flour arrived.

When I dared to hope for a ceasefire, I thought of these days. I don’t know where the energy came from. I left with a bag of flour on my shoulder. On my way home, I tripped over something that turned out to be a human head. A bag of flour was worth not only hunger, kilometres walked, and hours of waiting, but human lives.

A child feeds another a spoonful of food as they sit atop graves at a cemetery where families displaced by conflict are taking shelter in Deir el-Balah in the central Gaza Strip
A child feeds another a spoonful of food as they sit atop graves at a cemetery where families displaced by conflict are taking shelter in Deir el-Balah in the central Gaza Strip (AFP via Getty Images)

At that point, I realised that I couldn’t count anything in this war in years, months, or weeks – only in days. If I could, I would count the seconds.

Until now, I have not seen my mother, who in the temporary ceasefire deal had the chance to accompany my sister to the UAE to get chemo treatment. Despite attempts to save her, it came too late. My sister passed away 197 days ago because of months of missing treatment.

I have not seen my other sister for 418 days or my best friend for 465 days. And the days I also count with a heavy heart are those my uncle and cousin have spent in Sde Teiman with no charge or trial, lost for 388 days to a notorious prison known for torture, hunger, and anguish.

The ordeal of just getting flour is also the reason I started the initiative I work on, Vegan for Gaza, bringing food to the north. I realised that the greatest gift I could give anyone was a cup of flour. But I missed green food. So, 285 days ago, I borrowed money from friends and the community and convinced some displaced farmers in eastern Gaza to go back to the farms and harvest whatever was left. From there, I would buy it and with help from Vegans for Palestine, distribute it to the families most in need. It is restoring hope through vegetables.

My fear now – and the fear of every Palestinian in Gaza – is the final hours before the ceasefire. We worry that Israel will try to finish up the war – and genocide – by dropping more bombs on us. I am desperately afraid that I will have spent 15 months counting days of misery and desperation, only to be killed on the very last day. People are too scared to leave their houses, or to form crowds, in case they are targeted.

Despite this fear and dread, I do have some hope that this ceasefire means that I will see my family again. A ceasefire offers the feeling of relief from having to lose more loved ones. It means starting the process of healing, first by properly burying our closest, and then by having the time to grieve.

I will wait for the family of a person I buried inside our house, so we can bury him with his family present. We can rebuild our destroyed house, our street, and our city. We won’t need to risk our lives for food, and now that I have found my purpose, I continue my initiative by bringing hope, vegetables and happiness into people’s homes. It is something we in Gaza so desperately look for and need.

Ammar Kaskeen is a Palestinian in the north of Gaza. He was an aid distributor and then started the initiative Vegan for Gaza which distributes food to the north.

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