Houses are not just stones; they are beating hearts, loud and echoing laughter, imprinted on the walls and fences, and the family gatherings in the salons, and on the benches during summer nights with teapots, under the shade of sycamores and oranges, and the extensions of vines in the open courtyards exposed to the wind.
The extermination has affected both homes and inhabitants, and there is not a single house in the sector that has not been destroyed, with piles of rubble spreading in the streets, to the point that those returning to their homes no longer recognize their locations to reclaim some of their memories, and strain to hear the laughter of their children buried under the debris.
Gaza is considered the capital of the sector for its towers, buildings, homes, factories, schools, hospitals, universities, hotels, restaurants, mosques, churches, and historical and recreational sites that stand on its wealth-rich shore.
In the final moments before evacuation following Netanyahu's threat to the city's residents to leave immediately, homeowners and apartment dwellers in the towers bid farewell to their walls, casting their last glances at their salons, bedrooms, and living rooms, and the places where they stood in prayer before their Lord in their Kaaba; as an eighty-year-old says, his house is like his Kaaba.
The toil of a lifetime in Gaza dies under the oppression of blind force, just as the adornments of life die; wealth and children, as mothers and grieving grandmothers embrace their sons and grandsons wrapped in white in their final slumber in the censer.
Oh God.. Stop the extermination now.
שתף את דעתך
Farewell to the homes before they die!