On 26 August, as I prepared to spend a rare day with my family amid the rubble of Gaza, news arrived that my colleague Maryam Abu Daqqa had been killed in an Israeli strike on Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Younis. I stood frozen, struggling to absorb the loss of Independent Arabia's photographer, before rushing south from Gaza City to her family home. My daughter's voice followed me: 'Daddy, when will we go out?' I could not answer.
Being a father and a journalist in a war zone is an impossible balance. The Israeli offensive has brought endless hardship, made worse when you live in a hungry, exhausted community while documenting bombardment and incursions that could end your life at any moment. The most painful moment was bidding farewell to Maryam.
From the start, I knew there were no red lines – a ruthless conflict was coming. But I never imagined it would drag on for two years. The guns have never fallen silent; the land is drenched in blood, stomachs ache from hunger, and the wounded endure agony without relief. The one-sided conflict continues taking lives.
Early in the war, my wife begged me to give up journalism. I felt she was seizing my soul. 'How could I live without writing?' I asked. My work as Gaza correspondent placed me at a difficult crossroads: gathering information from doctors, faction leaders and eyewitnesses became nearly impossible as bombardment drove them into hiding.
Maryam went the extra mile to interview analysts and secure statements from faction leaders. Her loss profoundly affected the quality of my reports. For 24 months since 7 October, I have lived without electricity. Each morning I wake at seven to recharge phone, laptop and camera – a daily struggle to deliver information our readers rely on, while also providing water and flour for my family.
