Gaza War .. The First Day – October 7, 2023

By: M. Murtaja

It was not an ordinary morning. We woke up to sounds we had never heard so intensely before—explosions roaring in succession, sirens blaring, and screams filling the air. In those first moments, we couldn’t grasp what was happening.

I reached for my phone to check the news, but the signal was weak, and communication was cut off.

I stepped onto the balcony and looked at the sky; it was thick with smoke, and the warplanes hovered above us as if monitoring our every breath.

Everything collapsed in an instant

The sound of airstrikes kept coming, shaking the walls of our home. I turned to my wife; she instinctively placed her hands over her pregnant belly.

Our unborn child—what kind of world awaited them now? My two daughters trembled, unable to understand what was happening, but the fear in their eyes was enough to tell me that childhood would never be the same again.

 

 

Nidal Al-Wahidi

That day, I lost my friend and colleague, Nidal Al-Wahidi. He was the first person I thought of as the war intensified. Nidal was not just a friend; he was a comrade in the field, someone with whom I had shared years of covering the most challenging stories. He had gone to Erez Crossing to report on the unfolding events, and he never came back. No one knows what happened to him. Is he a prisoner held by the occupation? Has he been martyred? Or is he somewhere beyond reach? The questions circled in my mind without answers, and the uncertainty was heavier than any tragic news.

The streets were filled with chaos. People ran in every direction—some searching for shelter, others digging through the rubble for their loved ones. I didn’t know what to do; I felt helplessness creeping into my bones. By evening, we sat in the corner of the room, silently watching each other. My mother whispered prayers, and my wife clutched my hand as if seeking reassurance in my touch. But the truth was clear: this was only the beginning.

We Fear the night

As night fell, we could hear the planes without seeing them, as if they were circling above, waiting for the perfect moment to rain down more destruction. I watched the faces of those around me, searching for any strength to hold onto. My father, despite his old age, tried to appear strong, but he couldn’t hide his fear as he whispered, ‘We never thought we would live to see this day.’ My sister, who had spent her life helping patients in her pharmacy, was now helpless, unable even to calm my little daughter’s fear. My wife clutched her belly as if speaking to our unborn child: ‘Hold on a little longer, don’t come now. This world is not ready for you yet.’ But were we ready for what was coming? I didn’t know. The only certainty was that we had entered a dark tunnel with no visible end.

Gaza War .. The First Day