In the aftermath of a broken ceasefire, Palestinians in Gaza speak out about the trauma, loss, and fear they live with daily. Families recount the horrors of bombings, life in tents, and the silence of a world that watches but does not act. Through raw testimony and haunting imagery, this short film captures the reality of survival under siege—and the enduring dignity of a people who refuse to be erased.
Producers: Belal Awad, Leo Erhardt
Videographers: Ruwaida Amer, Mahmoud Al Mashharawi
Video Editor: Leo Erhardt
Transcript
MAMDOUH AHMED MORTAJA:
More than 500 days have passed and this unjust world has watched our bodies being burned alive.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
A girl asleep. In a tent, also. An air strike hit, her brain spilled out—she died on her mattress. What did this girl do? What crime did she commit?
MUKARAM SA’AD MUSTAFA HLIWA:
Two billion Muslims. Two billion Muslims are watching us. They could do something, but they do nothing. Where is the Arab world? Where is the Islamic world? Where is the Western world? While we are being killed daily.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
Destruction, terror, fear, humiliation. Faith only in God. As for faith in the end of the war—sadly, we’re not hopeful.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
We were in the refugee camp, when we heard gunfire, bombs and the chaos that followed. We didn’t need anyone to tell us, at night, we woke up to gunfire and bombs. There were assassinations, and the whole world turned upside down. My feelings when the ceasefire happened: we were truly pleased, we thought it was over and thought we were going to go back to normal life, like everyone else. Or do we not have the right to live? After that, war returned, worse than before. Now our feelings are different from before. At first, when the ceasefire happened, we were happy and thought we could go back to our lives. But for the war to stop and then return? That’s terrifying and fills us with anxiety. We didn’t expect the war to start again, at all. We couldn’t even believe it when it ended. We were waiting for relief, supplies and aid. We heard the promises on the news, about trucks entering—we didn’t expect the war to return.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
For me? Yes, I expected it. I expected it. Because they are treacherous, they don’t want peace. We had almost finished the first stage, but at the beginning of the second phase, they turned everything around. They don’t want it to succeed. They don’t want it to succeed. It’s not possible for the war to end. It’s not possible.
MAMDOUH AHMED MORTAJA:
Rings of fire, flying body parts, surprise attacks, abductions—the stuff of nightmares is happening in this war, and now, the resumption of war has renewed our feelings of intense fear. Everyone’s only demand is an end to this war and this curse, so we can have safety,
and tranquility, so we can rest our heads on our pillows and know that we will wake up the next day without drones, bullets, or artillery strikes.
Interviewer:
– This is not normal, it’s really loud.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
– It’s like this 24/7.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
Of course, Gaza is used to wars, but not like this. It’s not a war; it’s genocide: the child, the young, the girl, the wealthy, the poor—everyone. I’ll tell you a story: Yesterday, a ten-year-old girl was sleeping in her bed when an airstrike hit and killed her. What did this girl do? She was only ten years old. A girl sleeping. Also, in a tent. An air strike hits, her brains spill out. She dies on her mattress. What did she do? What crime did she commit? It’s a scary thing. The person sitting in his tent is scared, the person in his house is scared. We feel complete exhaustion, there is no stability, and we are mentally drained. When we sleep, we don’t expect to wake up. With the jets and the strikes, no one expects to wake up. We are living day to day, when we sleep, we don’t think about waking up. Death has become normal. What can we do?
MUKARAM SA’AD MUSTAFA HLIWA:
To me, the war hasn’t stopped. We have been living in destruction since October 7, 2023. I was injured on October 11, 2023, and until now, there’s been complete ongoing destruction in the Gaza Strip. Martyrs, orphans—destruction, destruction, destruction, more than you can imagine.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
Unfortunately, we expected the war to end, but it didn’t. They don’t want to end it—they want to end us: completely. We don’t want wars, it’s enough. We’re exhasted. Displacement, displacement, displacement. I lost three homes, and I have lost family as martyrs. We’ve been humiliated as you can see, living in a refugee camp and the situation is miserable. A worn out tent, frankly the situation is not good.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
The children here, when they hear explosions, develop psychological problems. They wet themselves. If a glass falls, they panic—they’re psychologically broken. They’re still children. What do they know? Anything that moves, they think it’s an airstrike or tank fire. They’re living in fear.
MUKARAM SA’AD MUSTAFA HLIWA:
One of my grandsons has a heart condition, we worry his heart will stop from terror. He screams and cries when he hears a rocket or an airstrike, or the quadcopter fire. The children can’t sleep because of what’s happening here in Gaza.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
The kids wet themselves. That’s one thing. The second? The fear and terror—like this child next to you. They are terrified and have no reassurance. The children roam the streets. There are no schools, no education. The Jews demolished the schools, they demolished kindergartens, the hospitals, the dispensaries, and the infrastructure. Buildings, houses: there is nothing left. The children are broken. The children? Childhood is over here.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
The future? It’s black and bleak. We have no future—our future is with God. What future? We live in tents, and they have followed us even here! The tent is everything—the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, everything. At the same time, the tent is an oven—not a tent. Even here, they won’t let us stay. They won’t leave us alone. The tents, the fear, the airstrikes—everything is crushing us.
MAMDOUH AHMED MORTAJA:
More than 500 days have passed, and this unjust world has watched our bodies being burned alive. Today, more than 50,000 human beings killed, burned alive in front of the world, and no one lifts a finger. So it’s normal that we in Gaza feel we face a deaf, blind, unjust world that supports the executioner standing over us, the victims.
MUKARAM SA’AD MUSTAFA HLIWA:
After losing my son, after what’s happened to Gaza? No. There is no hope, none at all. Only God stands with us. Hope in any country? There is none. I don’t trust the international community. They haven’t helped us. On the contrary. They sit and discuss as they destroy us. They haven’t found a solution for Gaza. They are destroying us here and in the West Bank. No one has stopped the war. Why? Only God knows. The blame is on them. There is a conspiracy against the people of Gaza.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
Doesn’t the international community see the victims every day? Thirty, forty victims a day, while they watch. No. Only God is our hope. No one else. God will deliver us from this war. He who is capable of anything. As for the international community, the Arab world, the Muslim world? There are 56 Arab and Muslim nations, yet they do nothing. Two billion Muslims. Two billion Muslims are watching us. They could act, but they do nothing. Where is the Arab world? Where is the Islamic world? Where is the Western world? We are being killed daily. They could act, but they are complicit—their hearts side with Israel. In the end, we’re battling the U.S. We are not equals. And the entire world supports Israel. We’re
exhausted. We are seeing horrors, tragedies, and no one stands with us. The International Court of Justice ruled for us, but where’s the action? We’re alone.
Interviewer
– Do you think you will survive this war?
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
– No. Zero chance. I told you: I sleep feeling like I won’t wake up. It’s normal. Thanks be to God. If He wills us to be martyrs, it’s better than this torture. Because, I’m telling you, we are not living—we are dead. These tents are graves above the earth. What’s the difference if we’re buried under it? Nothing. We’re being tortured, watching the explosions, the despair—it’s destroying us mentally and physically.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
Honestly, it’s difficult. We’ve faced death repeatedly. May God save us. I don’t expect to survive. I’m not optimistic. Destruction, terror, fear, humiliation. Only faith in God. As for faith in the war ending? Sadly, we’re not hopeful.
SUHAILA HAMED SA’AD:
Who can we have faith in? In whom? There’s no one. We’ve lost everything. Everything. Only our breath remains. And we wait, minute by minute, for it to leave us.
MOHAMED DARWISH MUSTAFA SA’AD:
Frankly, we are beyond exhausted. We lost our children, homes, livelihoods, work—Gaza has no life left. Life is over. I mean it. I’m 73. I’ve seen many wars, but never like this. This is genocide.
MUKARAM SA’AD MUSTAFA HLIWA:
I hope to walk again after my injury. I have a broken hip, I need a replacement. They approved my transfer, but I’m afraid if I leave, I’ll be exiled. They’re saying that those who leave can’t return. But why? I’m leaving for treatment—why exile me? I am from this land. I am Palestinian. I want my country. I want treatment, but I must return. I’m not leaving to emigrate. I don’t want to abandon my country. That’s what I fear.
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