Dalia Mohisen
3 min readSep 23, 2024

Peace be upon your heart, Lebanon. From the battered heart of Gaza to the aching hearts of all your people, we send you our love.

One deep, bleeding wound. A merciless, ruthless enemy. A world that watches in silence, complicit in our suffering. And the disgraceful, familiar silence of the Arab nations, echoing like a betrayal that stabs deeper than the enemy’s bullets.

The heart is crushed under the weight of this torment, consumed by a grief that knows no end. And yet, despite it all, by God, we endure. We rise, shattered but unbroken, clinging to the last flickers of hope in a world that has forsaken us.

The south of Lebanon is now enduring a storm of destruction, much like Gaza a brutal invasion by a machine of death that recognizes no limits, no boundaries. It slaughters without mercy, not distinguishing between a child holding a toy and a soldier holding a rifle, between a classroom and a battlefield, between an artillery site and a playground. How many more must die before the world sees? How many innocent lives will be snuffed out beneath this relentless tide of blood and ruin?

Civilians, whether in Gaza, Lebanon, or Idlib, are not pawns in this cruel game. They deserve to live, to breathe without the constant terror of bombs overhead, without the shadow of death looming over every moment. They deserve solidarity, humanity, not to be ground into dust beneath the wheels of war.

I don’t know if I have the right to advise anyone in the face of such terror, but I feel compelled to share a word for the people of Lebanon, and for anyone who may find themselves under the crushing hand of Israel’s fading might:

Do not be afraid. I know that fear is a natural response, that when the ground trembles beneath the rain of rockets and the sky roars with the thunder of warplanes, fear grips our hearts like a vice. But I beg you do not let fear take root in your soul. Do not let it spread like wildfire among you. Do not think that fearing death will somehow push it away.

Do not be afraid of this test you are facing. Stand firm in your beliefs, in the truth you hold dear. I understand the overwhelming flood of thoughts, the desperation, the haunting question: Is survival even worth it?

But don’t let fear claim you. This nightmare will end. Israel’s reign of terror will crumble, as all oppressors do, and the land will remain, always, for those to whom it belongs. It’s only a matter of time.

From our year of war, our year of endless pain, I offer these words to the Lebanese in evacuation zones, to those enduring the assault:

  • Pack clothes for every season – winter, summer – prepare for the unknown.
  • Take only enough blankets and mattresses, just the essentials.
  • Stock up on medications and painkillers, especially for those with chronic conditions. Make sure you have enough to last.
  • For those who smoke, store cigarettes and shisha – it may seem trivial, but in war, even these small comforts matter.
  • Prepare an emergency bag – documents, certificates for every family member, money, small valuables that you can carry easily.
  • If you have elderly family members, make sure you have a wheelchair, crutches, or a walker to help them.
  • Write down emergency numbers and keep them in an accessible place.
  • Secure a source of solar energy, if you can. Buy a radio, batteries, and solar-powered flashlights.
  • Prepare your first aid kit, disinfectants, and medications. Store what you can, especially if you rely on something specific.
  • Stockpile basic food supplies and bottled water. Learn how to make bread if you don’t know how it could save you.

You may never need any of this advice, but I offer it anyway, in case it helps even one person.

Israel is telling you openly, as clear as the midday sun: I will kill you all so that I may live.

Blessed are those who understand this brutal truth. And shame, deep shame, upon those who hide beneath its filthy cloak or clap their hands as it slaughters us.

September 23, 2024.

From the heart of genocide

There are seven lives that need help. Please, even if you can only donate a little, help save my family and me from this brutal war❤️🔽

https://gofund.me/6d3bce17

Dalia Mohisen
Dalia Mohisen

Written by Dalia Mohisen

I am a Palestinian girl from Gaza, living amidst the horrors of war.My life and my dreams of studying engineering have been put on hold to save my family 🇵🇸❤️

Responses (1)