(26): When we were in the mountains, the community was requested to report any Syrian or Palestinian soldiers who might be in the area. One day, we saw a soldier hiding in the bush near the house. My father asked us to come inside, close the door and windows and pretend we have seen anything. By then, I didn't fully understand the gravity of the situation. I remember enjoying the suspense around it.
Few hours later, we heard a loud noise. We opened the window to see what's going on. The soldier was being dragged by a hand full of armed people.
We knew later that our neighbor, the father of my friend Clair, reported him.
#Gaza

(27): Before the start of the civil war in #Lebanon, my family was upper-middle class. My father owned a blacksmith factory with 22 employees, located in East Beirut. He was specialized in producing gym weight plates. During the war, the factory was bombed, and my father lost everything and had to start from zero in West Beirut. He rented a store in downtown (Bab Idriss) and restarted his business. He was the only employee as couldn’t afford recruiting anyone. He used to come home with black hand and sometimes with burns. How I wish he is still alive now for me to kiss his hands for all what he suffered to give us a decent life. #Gaza

(28): One day, my father was going to work in downtown Beirut. Suddenly, he saw an “improvised checkpoint” composed of three-armed men wearing hoodies and covering their faces. He understood that those militia are the ones who kill according to your religion. He had 50% chance to survive if they were Muslim and 50% chance to be murdered if they were Christians.
He attempted to do a U turn, but they started shooting in the air ordering him to come their way.
He did his prayers and drove to them. They asked him for his identity.
They looked at his name, then let him go.
#Gaza

(29): Our neighbour Inaam, lost her brother during the war in #Lebanon. He went to work one day and never came back.
Since then, Inaan started waiting for him next to the entrance of the building. She used to stand in the street for hours, looking left and right, even under the shelling. Some people told her he was kidnaped and moved to Syria. Others told her, he was killed. She used to yell at everyone saying: He called me and told me he is coming back! She was perceived as the neighbourhood's crazy woman.
#Gaza

(30): I contracted asthma when I was three yrs old. With the fear and the smoke after each bombing, I used to develop asthma attacks during heavy shelling. My parent had to make a difficult choice: Whether to take me to hospital for emergency treatment or to wait until it’s safer.
One day, my uncle's fiancé, Bouchra, was visiting us when the bombing started and consequently, my attack too. My father prepared himself to drive me to the hospital, when Bouchra told him she has what I needed. She took me aside and showed me a medicine called Ventolin. She taught me how to use it by inhaling it herself. The asthma attack stopped immediately. I was puzzled.
During war, we often forget those who have diseases that can kill them if not managed. Thinking of all patients who suffer from asthma in #Gaza.