Two Years Between The Operating Room And My Children’s Trembling Voices

By Dr Nasim Hameda

For the past two years, amid an ongoing war and a relentless campaign of genocide, I have been present every single moment—inside the hospital, surrounded by the cries of the wounded, the screams of children, and the blood of the innocent.

I never left. Not for a day. Not for an hour.

I worked around the clock, without pause or rest, pushing through exhaustion, burying my fear, standing firm in the face of overwhelming pain and death.

Each day brought a dual struggle:

The first, inside the operating room, where limbs were amputated, bones shattered, and children’s bodies torn apart by brutal force.

The second, deep within me—as a father—hearing the echo of my children’s voices in my heart and mind, pleading:

"Daddy, please stay with us... We’re scared of the bombing... We need you here."

And I would leave them, hiding the tears in my soul, not knowing if I would ever return—or if I would come back to gather them in pieces.

I have witnessed things beyond imagination:

A child’s body dismembered, a mother embracing the remains of her baby, young men struck down in their prime, and women clinging to life with unmatched patience.

And in the midst of this devastation, I strive to remain steadfast—not out of strength, but because I chose to be a human being, a doctor, and a soldier in this battle for survival.

My only mission is to save lives, to ease pain, to restore some hope to those who still cling to it.

And yet, outside the hospital walls, I face another fight: the heartbreaking inability to provide even the most basic needs for my own children, in a reality shaped by blockade and starvation.

They ask for little—just enough food to quiet their hunger, a sense of safety... maybe a piece of chocolate that no longer exists here.

But more painful than the bombing,

is the silence of the world.

This global shame… this false humanity that preaches freedom and peace—while turning away from our blood, our suffering, our children’s screams.

I do not write these words to seek pity.

I write to remind the world that I am a human being.

I have the right to live.

I long to be a father who builds a beautiful life for his children—not a martyr who leaves them behind.

And though I do not fear death—I work for the sake of God—I still love life.

And I ask for nothing more than to be treated as a human being… because I am one.

And I deserve to live.

Dr. Nasim Hameda
Gaza – Palestine
August 3, 2025

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