Life After Gaza: Surviving, Advocating & Moving Forward

Gaza My Home

Living in Gaza is unlike anywhere else in the world. For over three decades, it was my home—my place of work, my community, and where I built my life. The challenges were constant, from power shortages to movement restrictions, but so was the resilience. Gaza is filled with talented, ambitious people who strive to create opportunities despite the odds. Working at Gaza Sky Geeks, I saw firsthand how young people used technology and freelancing to break past physical barriers and access global markets. Yet, no matter how much we achieved, the reality of the blockade always loomed over us, reminding us that our futures were never fully in our control.

Disabilities in Gaza

During the last war, I was responsible for over 45 immediate family members, including my three children and elderly parents. My father, who is in a wheelchair, requires constant care. We were displaced multiple times across the strip, and as the sole breadwinner, I had to provide shelter, food, water, and whatever necessities I could find. We survived over seven months of everything the world witnessed online, but then I had to make the hardest decision of my life: leaving Gaza. I wasn’t able to save everyone—only 10 out of the 45 family members I was responsible for made it out. A week later, the borders were completely closed.

I am one of the fortunate ones who managed to escape, but with that comes a burden I never anticipated: survivor’s guilt. Every day, I think of my family, friends, colleagues, and loved ones still trapped in impossible conditions. The guilt manifests in unexpected ways—hesitation before sharing good news, feeling like I don’t deserve a fresh start when others are suffering, and the relentless question of whether I am doing enough to help those left behind. I face waves of deep depression, weakness, and helplessness, struggling to find meaning in this new reality.

Image Credit: Saed Habib

Advocacy & Mental Health

Since leaving, I have taken on a new role: advocate. I use my voice to bring attention to Gaza’s ongoing struggles, especially in the tech and business sectors. I push for more opportunities for Palestinians in Gaza, the West Bank, and those displaced in Egypt and beyond. This advocacy work, however, takes a toll on my mental health. Every conversation about Gaza reopens wounds that have barely started to heal. The weight of carrying the stories of those who cannot speak for themselves is heavy, and burnout is a real concern.

One of the most powerful tools in advocacy today is social media. Platforms like Facebook, X, LinkedIn, and Instagram allow us to amplify Palestinian voices and counter misinformation. But the constant exposure to distressing images and news can be overwhelming. While social media is a lifeline for spreading awareness, it is also a double-edged sword, contributing to anxiety and emotional exhaustion. Balancing advocacy with self-care is an ongoing struggle—one I am still learning to navigate.

A topic that often gets overlooked in discussions about Gaza is the experience of people with disabilities. The war has dramatically increased the number of individuals with disabilities, whether from injuries, trauma, or lack of medical care. Even before the war, Gaza was a difficult place for people with disabilities, with limited accessibility and resources. Now, with infrastructure destroyed and medical aid restricted, their struggles are even more severe. Advocacy for Gaza must include them, ensuring that any rebuilding efforts are inclusive and that they are not left behind.

As for my own mental health, it is a work in progress. The trauma of war, displacement, and the uncertainty of what comes next weigh heavily on me. Some days, I am focused and driven, determined to make an impact. On other days, the sheer magnitude of loss feels paralyzing. Therapy is not always accessible, so I rely on community support, self-reflection, and advocacy as a form of healing. But healing is not linear, and I remind myself that it is okay to take things one step at a time.

Healing

So, what’s next for me? I am exploring different paths, from remote work to potential relocation opportunities. I am committed to continuing my advocacy, helping Palestinian professionals connect with global opportunities, and ensuring that Gaza’s story is not forgotten. My goal is to find a way to balance personal healing with meaningful work—work that not only supports my family but also contributes to a better future for my people.

For anyone reading this, especially those who have supported Gaza from afar: your voice matters. Your engagement matters. Whether through social media, donations, or policy advocacy, every action counts. Gaza is more than a conflict zone—it is home to people with dreams, talents, and limitless potential. And as long as we keep telling our stories, those dreams will not be forgotten.

Written by Saed Habib