Ameera is married to Kamal and they have two young children. Their home was bombed on 9th October and the family is now homeless, sheltering at the Latin Church. This is Ameera’s story, which was sent to us by our partner in Jerusalem, Pontifical Mission for Palestine:

I used to work in the administrative field at CRC in Gaza. My husband, Kamal, was a pharmacist. Our lives were once peaceful, prosperous, and happy. However, we found ourselves amid an unrelentless war, that has changed our lives. On 9th October – two days after the war began, our home on the sixth floor of a building was bombed, destroying it. Our house was a symbol of our hopes and dreams. We have lost memories, everything. I remember the last day, I was organizing things, and preparing for our return! We were forced to take refuge in the Latin Church. Ten days after we fled to the Latin Church, my husband's cousins, and their families - 12 people in all, who were sheltering at the St Porphyrios Orthodox Church, lost their lives that day in a bombing. It has been devastating to us.

The living conditions in Gaza city are miserable. Getting healthy food is difficult, and for months, we haven’t eaten vegetables, fruit, or meat. We don’t have water to drink, medicine, or electricity.

My children, Majd and Laila, who deserve proper nutrition, are growing up in a challenging and unhealthy environment. It breaks my heart that I cannot provide for them.

On 15th December, shelling intensified around the Latin Church; it was so close and terrifying. My husband and I decided to leave our shelter room and find a safer area. We were carrying our children when a shell fell nearby and exploded. I felt the hot shrapnel piercing both of my legs. Time seemed to freeze, the air became heavy, and pain intensified with every moment that had passed. I found myself lying on the ground and had intense pain and was screaming. The shrapnel entered my left leg, causing an explosive fracture and had settled in my right leg. I managed to get back to the Church. There were doctors sheltering there, displaced like us, who immediately treated me. I was confused and shocked. Each moment that passed seemed slow and a sense of helplessness crept over me. I had to get to a hospital, but it was too dangerous, we were trapped inside the Church. Two and a half weeks had passed before I could get to the hospital and receive treatment for my injuries. In between that time, the pain was unbearable and psychologically tormenting. I saw worry in the eyes of my children, husband, family, and loved ones - a concern beyond description.

Fortunately, I was able to reach the hospital and underwent surgery to stabilize the fractures in my leg. After some time, my situation improved. Unfortunately, things were not that simple. It turned out that I need an additional operation to implant a bone graft in my leg so I can regain the ability to walk again. I am still waiting for that surgery until today.

I often ask myself: will I be able to undergo an operation and have the ability to walk again?

I can only hope for that day to come.

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