The convoy’s busy schedule involved

working on many heartbreaking,

thought-provoking and inspiring stories.

We used a combination of filming,

photography, interviewing and written

articles to convey these narratives, in

order to raise awareness of the situation

in Gaza; a situation that is often absent

from mainstream Western media. We

visited the homes of many Palestinians

whose lives had been shattered during

Israel’s two recent “Operations” of Cast

Lead and Pillar of Cloud.

 

Both assaults, particularly the latter,

received little media coverage in the West

- and the coverage they did receive often served the agenda of Israeli interests and its ongoing 46 year occupation. It was refreshing and inspirational to work with so many other talented and passionate people, from a variety of different countries and cultures, so as to portray the reality in Gaza to an audience whose views are often shaped around Western discourse.

 

One of the toughest and most emotional moments of my time in Gaza was when I visited two completely contrasting cemeteries. Firstly, I visited the Gaza War Cemetery which commemorates those who lost their lives while fighting in Gaza in the First and Second World Wars. Similar to any cemetery in the West, it was beautifully maintained with clean grave stones standing amongst the bright life of flowers and nature. There was even a sprinkler, subtly watering the neat, fresh grass - it was a rare image to see grass in any site in Gaza. Standing in this cemetery felt like I was in any of the exquisite cemeteries across Europe; a place where respect is rightfully paid to the highest extreme.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later on in the day I visited another cemetery that lay by the side of a road. As I walked amongst the reams of rubbish covering the crumbling grave stones, a repugnant smell permeated the air, which made me want to leave immediately. Further into the cemetery I stumbled across the shocking scene of Palestinians residing amongst the dead, ever since they were displaced from their homes during the Nakba in 1948. This was amongst the gravest poverty I had witnessed in Gaza, where families of up to 20 or more people lived in grim and deteriorating homes.

 

The previous cemetery was completely deserted, this one was filled with people sitting on grave stones, children playing amongst the rubbish and even the sight of animals - which on some occasions looked better fed than the children. There was no grass or flowers. No bench to sit on and honour your loved ones. This was certainly no place to console those souls who have passed away. However, what this cemetery did have to offer was images that will stay with me forever. Amongst a sea of despair and misery, there were images of hope and happiness amongst its residents. Summed up perfectly with this image of a child playing with a can that surrounds her “garden”.

 

Amongst the other highlights of my trip were visits to the miserable refugee camps in Jabalia and al-Shati. More than 60 per cent of the population of Gaza live in refugee camps and even more are dependent on humanitarian relief to satisfy their basic needs. The suffering of the Palestinians living in these destitute camps is truly abhorrent and the fact that most of the inhabitants are children, blissfully unaware of their surroundings and the likelihood that their dreams and aspirations have been stolen by an occupation, made the whole experience even more devastating. 
 

Despite the anguish running throughout Gaza, there were still many signs of hope, determination and positivity. A prime example of this was demonstrated by the translators who worked with us to facilitate our time there. They were not only a kind, welcoming and passionate group of people but they all had huge aspirations for the future. Whether it concerns the continuation of their studies abroad, or to contribute to the documentation of the situation in Gaza through journalism; the ambition of these young people was exceptionally inspiring.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cemetery in Gaza where people are residing amongst the graves

 

My mind is now filled with fond memories of Gaza and the hospitality of its people. This was demonstrated perfectly whilst walking along streets and being greeted with handshakes and smiles, and in one particular instance when I was given coffee at a currency exchange - something completely disparate to the often impertinent customer service in the UK. I shall never forget the moment that I was standing a few hundred metres away from the border with Israel, facing snipers and military vehicles. Or the time when I was surrounded by dozens of beautiful, joyful children all eager to talk and play with me, just after I had listened to the tragic story of a mother who lost her six year old daughter to an Israeli drone in last year’s war.