On March 3rd, I was given a new life: I was lucky enough to be able to leave Gaza, to survive and escape with my close family. It wasn’t at all easy, deciding to leave my favorite place on Earth. Gaza may not be the most beautiful piece of land or the most vibrant and luxurious city to live in, but to me, it was something much deeper: my home. Which is still under attack, still being destroyed and bombed. I still feel very guilty for leaving it. Somehow, I feel that by leaving Gaza, I abandoned a piece of myself, or to be more accurate, I betrayed a piece of myself. As I am writing this essay, people around Egypt are celebrating Eid, but I’m unable to feel any happiness. All I can feel is intense agony and sadness.
On February 12th, 2024 at 3:00 am, I woke up to the terrifying sounds of bombs and rockets being launched at Palestinians in Rafah. I was so scared that I cried for the first time since this attack began. I used to hide my fears and tears very well, but this time, I couldn’t keep them inside. I thought Israeli soldiers had reached Rafah on the ground, which to me would mean “being killed,” as I am a freelance journalist. That said, I don't have to be a journalist to be killed: it is enough that I am Palestinian.
Everyone at my grandparents' building woke up that morning, and we were all in shock. Displaced people who were living with us mentioned rumors they overheard when Israeli troops reached Gaza City and displaced many of them to Rafah (a few families coming from Gaza City took shelter in my grandparents’ building). Hearing these rumors freaked me out. The bombing and rockets lasted for a few hours, and within these hours, we couldn’t know what was going on, as the internet connection had been cut due to the Israeli control of our telecommunication. Then, we learned that Israel had released two Israeli hostages from Rafah. They were only two blocks away, but we didn’t know anything about them. I thought that would be the day I was killed, but thanks to God, I wasn’t—but I’m still traumatized because of that day. It was actually the strongest reason I decided to leave Gaza.
Sadly, in order to be allowed to leave Gaza, you have to pay at least USD 5000 per person to an Egyptian Company, Ya Hala, which is a price most people in Gaza cannot pay. Even children have to pay $2500 to be allowed into Egypt. During the beginning of the attack, the price was at least $ 10,000, then they reduced it by half. We as Palestinians are very saddened by this treatment. We did not expect to be treated this way by a very dear Arabic country, one with which we share a history, language, and culture. That was a vividly heartbreaking betrayal.
Driven by my fears of the loss of my or my family’s lives, I talked to a dear friend of mine, Kari Ayoob, and we decided to launch a GoFundMe campaign. She was so scared for my life; sometimes, I felt she was more afraid for me than I was. So, she launched and promoted a campaign for me and my family and within a few days, the campaign had reached its goal. I was happy and surprised that so many people care for me, and want me and my dear ones to stay alive.
Once we gathered all the required funds, I could reach out to Ya Hala Company. I realized that there had to be a family member who is living in Egypt to register for you. Before the attack, there was an office for Ya Hala company in every city in Gaza, but during the attack, they were all either bombed or otherwise affected, so they all closed. The only one still functioning now is the location in Al Nasr Neighborhood in Egypt. I needed connections in Egypt to be able to get family members and myself registered. Thanks to God, my family members and I were registered on February 20th, 2024: only a day after my birthday on the 19th. That is why I truly feel I was given a new life.
I developed the habit of checking the list of those traveling to Egypt from Gaza through Ya Hala company. Each day, at some point between 8 to 11 at night, the new list would be published. I kept checking for ten days, and our names still weren’t there. I started to worry I’d been scammed, having paid $26,500 for my entire family. Then, on March 2nd at 8 pm, the person who registered us called and told me that finally, my family members and I were on the list, and that we should prepare ourselves to travel the next morning. I was very happy that I’d soon be safe with my family.
At that moment, I didn’t let myself think about how much I love Gaza and wanted to stay. I just felt very happy to be able to leave and save my family. My mother, however, was very sad and began to cry. She didn’t want to leave. She hated that she was FORCED to leave. We had to say goodbye to every memory we’d made in Gaza. We visited our closest family members and said goodbye. We were embarrassed, though, because we knew we’d soon be safe, while they would still be under attack and confronting a very harsh reality. We were terrified we wouldn't see them again, so we even said goodbye to the ones who hurt us, and to the ones who were never close to us.
The next morning at 7:00 am, we headed to the border crossing, where we first had to get into the Palestinian hall. There was a guard at the gate calling lists of names associated with Ya Hala company. Our names were called, and we were allowed entry to the Palestinian hall. Then, we waited for about an hour or two and were allowed out of the Palestinian hall to a garden that is between the Palestinian and Egyptian halls. For some reason, nobody is allowed to walk there. You should get on the bus that takes you to the Egyptian hall even though you could go there on foot. We were kept on the bus for almost three hours for no clear reason. At the time, only 300 Palestinians were allowed to access Egypt each day. Recently, it has been increased to 500.
It was incredibly sad seeing the many trucks of aid and flour waiting at the crossing, knowing people inside Gaza were going hungry. These trucks were meant to provide aid to Palestinians in Gaza, but Israel had denied them entry. That is why Palestinians will tell you that the famine in Gaza City is systematically created by Israel. If they don't want us to die from hunger, they could have simply let the aid go through the Egyptian border crossing, but their intentions are clear and they add up to genocide.
It hurt, coming out of the Palestinian hall and being told that now I’m safe. I paid $5000 for a few steps that granted me safety, the most expensive steps in my life! As a Palestinian, this was the moment I felt the depth of the wound Egypt left me with when they made me compromise my dignity and ask for GoFundMe donations to be able to cover the expenses of leaving Gaza. While helping Palestinians escape Gaza is possible for Egypt, they only do it to make a fortune. At the same time, I do understand that Egyptians are really poor and they cannot host more refugees, as their population is already too high, but I wonder why Sudanese people are allowed into Egypt with no such high expenses but Palestinians are not?!
At almost 10 in the morning, we could access the Egyptian hall. We were all checked out, and then allowed into the hall where travelers were divided into either Ya Hala travelers or Palestinians who hold Egyptian nationalities, and then put into separate rooms. The Ya Hala room has the internet and its bathrooms are clean, but the other doesn’t and its bathrooms are dirty. I didn’t mind which room I was put in. All that matters is safety. So, we had to wait from 10 am till 11 pm before we were allowed to leave the hall get on the bus and travel to Cairo. We reached Cairo at 10 am. The next morning we went to the house that we had rented and we all fell into a deep sleep. In the hall, there were not enough chairs so I spent almost the whole time in the Egyptian hall standing. It took me a few days to overcome the muscle pain I developed from the day I traveled. What about my old diabetic mother?
After we settled in Cairo, my dearest friend Kate, to whom I used to teach Arabic two years ago, visited me in Egypt and invited my family and me for breakfast during the beginning of Ramadan. I felt so happy seeing her. She has always told me she has a feeling we will meet in reality but I didn’t think it would happen considering the situation. She tried to make my family members and I feel less guilty, and she was also clearly trying to help us enjoy a good time after 150 days of genocidal conditions in Gaza. Then Kate and I visited another Palestinian friend of hers who was about to deliver a baby after years of failed attempts. Also, we met a very kind Egyptian guy who invited us to drink some coffee with him, and we had breakfast with Kate and her two friends from Gaza, Rima, and Khoidary, who have now become our friends as well.