My name is Esam and I'm from Gaza...

We believe in the mercy of God, despite what the occupation has done to our children. We believe in the greatness of God, despite what we see every day before our very eyes.

Solidarity is not enough. Silence is treacherous and words are not enough.

Omar, Osama, and the children, with the house on top of them for days until this very moment, why hasn’t anyone gotten them out, if all they had to use were their nails?

After the aggression, everything began to change. In my opinion and that of others, a change from bad to worse. We became, as my mom says, like the teeth of a comb - all the same.

This city is full of strange contradictions, mixing death with life and transforming scenes of death to a cinematic piece devoid of pleasure. But the viewer is unable to look away despite its cruelty.

If life is cheap, why does she embrace this beauty in her arms? If she does not want her children, and watches them being cut off at the garden gates, then why does she extend her beauty to them? Perhaps she has lost her mind, and delirium has reached its final point.