Bloody Nights in Gaza: No Sleep Under the Drones

In Gaza, nights are no longer a place of rest. Instead, they have turned into hours filled with terror, the sounds of bombing, and the relentless drone of warplanes. As darkness falls, a new round of bombing begins, with families living moment by moment in unparalleled fear.

"Whenever night falls, we feel closer to death," says Ahmed, the head of a displaced family from the northern Gaza Strip. "We don't sleep, we don't close our eyes, we wait for the sound of the next explosion." He adds that his young children tremble with every explosion and scream unconsciously, as the sound of aircraft has become a daily part of their lives.

The sky over Gaza is lit up at night by the fire of airstrikes, and the land is plunged into darkness by power outages. In this tragic scene, families try to survive, sometimes by fleeing, sometimes by taking shelter between walls that may not withstand the missiles.

"At night, we don't sleep," says Umm Youssef, who lives in one of the shelters. "We watch the sky through the shattered windows, preparing ourselves for any emergency. Even the children no longer ask when the bombing will end. They ask: Who will die tonight?"

As the planes disappear for a while, a heavy silence descends, but it's not a relief. Rather, it's a new fear of a surprise raid, or an unforeseen strike. Even those who weren't physically harmed were psychologically scarred, carrying within them unforgettable nights.

Despite the pain, Gaza insists on surviving, on persevering in the face of bloody nights, ceaseless sounds, and a merciless war. And between each night, hope remains that a new dawn will dawn, without planes, without missiles, and without blood.