Struggle and Solidarity: Writing Toward Palestinian Liberation

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Gaza has long been described as an “open-air prison.” The more I reflect on the term, the more it feels like a painful truth rather than mere hollow rhetoric. A suffocating blockade has been imposed for decades, with two border crossings sealed shut depending on the political climate and circumstances, often leaving no feasible exit for patients seeking medical referrals or students hoping to travel, while insufficient commercial supplies are allowed in. Yet in the middle of it all, Palestinians’ gleaming and enduring minds keep innovating passionately, frantically renovating what has been broken, and exploring new forms of survival that seem to be unlocked only in Gaza. All of it is an attempt to cope, to reclaim a life that, quite simply, we have been coercively denied.

In the Al-Taghreba shelter in Khan Younis, the displaced refused to let the rituals of Ramadan die. But lavish lanterns and colorful decorative garlands were distant dreams for many, given the financially draining ramifications of two years of genocidal war, which have left most people in Gaza unable to create the traditional festive ambience of the holiday. Yet they made their own, shadowed by a stark reminder of how fragile the status quo remains, nonetheless still glowing with a certain joy amid the relative calm. Slicing through the surfaces of piled-up cola cans, people have turned them into decorations that mimic the shape of lanterns, recycling environmentally harmful waste into simple yet radiant lanterns that hung between the tents. Seeing them, I was astonished. The people there, who had been stripped of everything but their hospitality and dignity, immediately offered to make me one too.

Recycling in Gaza is not pursued mainly for the sake of environmental sustainability. It is an obligatory necessity, forced on us by harsh living conditions. During the genocide, when cooking gas severely dwindled and wood for cooking was running critically low, one innovative man in our neighborhood devised another practical, energy-saving tool from discarded food tins. He used a large tin can, cutting a circular opening in its surface to create a space to insert pieces of wood, and another on the side connected to a fan that helped the flames spread faster. It was powered by an external source of energy — a battery. To operate it, one would first strike a flame and place it on the wood, then turn on the battery to run the fan. My father has bought us many, one after the........

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