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mohamhawish.bsky.social
Palestinian journalist and writer from Gaza. Contributing Writer, The Nation. Words: Al Jazeera, The Economist, MSNBC, +972 Magazine.
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These stories of survival are also stories of loss—of homes, of dreams, of entire futures stolen. They are stories of resilience, of defiance, of the ways people carve meaning and memory out of destruction.

“I found her ring in the rubble, blackened, but I could still see our names engraved inside. I held it so tight it cut my palm. I didn’t feel it. All I felt was her absence.” I talked with twenty people in Gaza after the ceasefire, who shared raw, heart-wrenching stories of grief, loss, and hope.

“I sewed his shirt into a pillow so I could hold him at night.” These voices from Gaza reveal twenty raw snapshots of life amid the ceasefire. Here’s what each one told me.

"I held his little body and rocked him like he was sleeping.” What happens after the bombs stop? These 20 voices from Gaza will show you the cost of war—and the strength of those who survive it.

Latest: “Without justice, a ceasefire is a fragile and fleeting thing. Liberation from the chains of occupation and the end of the siege would mean families no longer fearing the loss of their homes, children playing under skies free of drones, and a people finally free to determine their destiny.“

We welcome and direly need the ceasefire. It is time to heal—if we can heal. But a ceasefire does not erase the scars etched into our homes and the souls of those who survived.

Must read in the latest issue of @thenation.com

In Gaza, we’re taught to survive the impossible. But when the bombs stop, another battle begins—rebuilding when the world forgets. The silence following the bombing does not erase what was lost. In this, I write on what comes after a ceasefire.

The bombs may have stopped falling but there’s a quiet battle in Gaza now—between what was lost and what’s left to rebuild. This piece is my attempt to capture the aftermath of war, where grief isn’t just an emotion but a way of life.

Ceasefires in Gaza are treated as endpoints when they are, at best, intermissions, writes @mohamhawish.bsky.social Read 🔗 www.newarab.com/opinion/afte... #gazaceasefire #gazagenocide

I can’t describe this storm of emotions—joy, tears, scenes of families reuniting, finally returning home. For every Palestinian, for Gaza, this moment is just breathtaking.🕊️❤️

“As a journalist, I am expected to document my own genocide with impartiality and professionalism. But there is nothing professional about survival.” From our colleague in journalism, @mohamhawish.bsky.social:

In the space between war and peace, there’s a world of quiet sorrow. I wrote this in @newlinesmag.bsky.social to share the real impact of the ceasefire on Gaza’s people—how we carry grief and the fragile hope of rebuilding.

I poured my heart and tears into this, writing about what it means to endure a fragile calm in Gaza after the ceasefire—the aftermath of grief, the struggle to process, and the search for a way forward amid the ruins.

NEW: As a fragile ceasefire between Israel and Gaza takes hold, Palestinian father and journalist @mohamhawish.bsky.social reflects on survival amid unimaginable loss and the uncertainty around returning home. newlinesmag.com/spotlight/re...

As a fragile ceasefire between Israel and Gaza takes hold, my friend @mohamhawish.bsky.social reflects for @newlinesmag.bsky.social on survival amid unimaginable loss and the uncertainty around returning home. newlinesmag.com/spotlight/re...

Latest for @thenewarab.bsky.social: Through every ceasefire, Gaza breathes, but it never truly heals. Ceasefire don't rebuild homes, resurrect loved ones, or promise peace. We deserve justice, not fleeting moments of calm.

Four days into the ceasefire in Gaza, my best friend and college mate Hasan Abu Sharkh was shot dead today by Israeli sniper fire eastern Rafah as he attempted to returnto his family home. How many times can a heart break? Your loss is devastating me Hasan. May your soul rest in peace.

Is it a dream? Are we dreaming? Is it all over—counting the dead, uncovering scattered bodies of children, reporting on our own homes and families getting bombed, surviving displacement and starvation at once? Is it all over now?

After 467 days of horror, a ceasefire deal has been reached to halt Israel's genocide in Gaza. Israel's cabinet will vote by Thursday, and the agreement is expected to take effect on Sunday. For Palestine Square, I detail the ceasefire agreement and the implementation plan of the deal. Read here.

🚨 BREAKING: Qatari Prime Minister and Foreign Minister confirms the Gaza ceasefire agreement will take effect on Sunday, January 19.

My friend and colleague Anas Al Sharif of Al Jazeera Arabic channel is up on the shoulders of people in Gaza, announcing the news of the ceasefire deal. He's taken off the Press vest!!! People across Gaza are celebrating, cheering, and crying happy tears.

I am in tears. I am literally crying. For months I've dreamt of this moment... Can't believe it's finally over.

🚨🚨I can confirm Gaza ceasefire deal has just been accepted and signed by Israel and Hamas. Announcement will be out soon. Qatar, US, and Egypt will guarantee the phased plan implementation. This is a developing story… further updates will follow.

🚨Breaking: Hamas has officially submitted its approval to mediators for a ceasefire and prisoner exchange agreement.

🧵 A friend in Gaza told me “The first thing I will do after the ceasefire is go to my mother’s grave and share the news with her. I wish she were here with me in this moment.”

I don’t know if it’s heartbreak, frustration, agony, or anticipation that trembles my hands cold and out of control as I am covering voices from Gaza on the ceasefire. How can I be only a journalist now and not an exiled survivor who lost home, family, friends and loved ones?

How are we even supposed to walk home after the war ends? When this all started, people had families, their loved ones around, people who shared laughter and sorrow together. Now everyone has somebody of their own gone. Some their entire families and friends. How can we ever go back to “normal”?

And after all a single news item is supposed to heal our wounds, bandage our soul scars, and compensate for all our tragic losses. It won't be easy to witness a ceasefire announcement, but I promise I will definitely try to feel joy. Let's not just assume that it will be an easy thing to do.

Another story in the making—involving the Mo’s of The Nation. Coming soon, the world better watch out!!

In just four days since the start of the new year, Israeli attacks have killed over 400 people in Gaza.

To stop counting the dead has become our yearly wish.

We’ve wished for so many things, year after year, that we have grown emotionally crushed. All we’ve got is more missiles, death, destruction, loss, trauma. May it only be a normal year—one where we no longer have to count our losses and the piles of the dead.

My heart is shattered. My cousin, Saed Al Ghafeer, has been killed by an Israeli strike on Al Wafa Hospital in Gaza today. Saed was more than family—he was kindness, laughter, and light in the darkest days. He deserved so much more than this cruel world gave him. We’ll carry you with us forever.

A reporter friend says Israel’s been bombing northern Gaza nonstop for the past three hours and that the explosions are so loud and intense, they can be heard all the way from Tel Aviv.

This Christmas was supposed to be about dreams and wishes. Instead, we’re watching our loved ones burn to death.

This Christmas, families in Gaza gather around empty tables, holding onto one wish: that if death comes, it takes the family all together, sparing anyone the agony of mourning alone.

Here's to everyone in my Gaza. Let's wish the people warmth and peace this Christmas, even if it's for a brief moment of time.

As the world lights up with celebrations, Gaza shivers in the dark. Kids pulled from the rubble, families burned alive, thousands freezing, hungry, with nowhere safe to go. No food, no water, no warmth — just a crushing, endless winter. Don’t forget Gaza. Don’t let it disappear from the headlines.

Refaat Alareer’s mother reads his latest poem, “If I Must Die”.

Israel killed four Palestinian journalists in Gaza over the past week. Ahmad Al-Louh; Mohammed Jabr Al-Qreinawi; Mohamed Baalusha; Eman Shanti. The total number of journalists killed by Israel in Gaza since October last year has now reached 196, according to the Government Media Office of Gaza.

Is there a pause button to tragedy? I know it can’t stop but I just need a break.

I’ve lost four of my loved ones and friends, one of them a fellow journalist, in Gaza over the last week. My heart is so broken I don’t think I am able to grieve anymore.

I’m grateful I survived the attack on my home. But surviving isn’t the same as living. The faces of those who didn’t make it haunt every corner of my mind.