Every night we huddle together and pray our building doesn’t collapse over us. Who will stop this war – and give us a future?

• The writer is a 24-year-old woman who has lived in Gaza all her life

Living in Gaza has given me a profound and often challenging perspective on life. I am a person who doesn’t usually feel afraid, but the things we are seeing and hearing are very scary. Even at night, we have to search for a safe corner to sleep in, in case the house collapses over our heads. In Gaza, all locations are unsafe. Nowhere is far from the bombing, and death is never far away.

I have lived in Gaza all my life, but I had to leave my home in October 2023. Right now, I am living in east Gaza with my family. We are seven people in one room and there is another family of seven in another room. We try to stay warm as much as we can. We sleep closely next to each other.

We do not have any water in the entire house and the food stocks are almost gone. Flour has been expensive and scarce, so at times we’ve had to use animal feed for baking. I feel sad for my sisters because they aren’t getting the nutrition they need. They are children and their bodies are growing, so they often feel tired.

For young people like us, living in a conflict zone has an impact that can last our whole lives. Everything here is in chaos – all the things we see and hear, and even where we live. It restricts our access to education, employment and a safe environment.

Many of the children are traumatised from witnessing violence and losing loved ones, and that can have long-term psychological effects. On top of that, economic collapse and lack of infrastructure make it hard for young people to envision a stable future, or plan for a normal life. We face so many barriers to our dreams and aspirations, making even simple desires like travelling difficult: there are checkpoints, humiliating security checks and long drives to make requests for visas, which are mostly rejected.

This makes me want to ask people in the west and Israel one question: “Aren’t we human just like you?” And the answer? Well, there is no answer.

The writer is a 24-year-old woman who has lived in Gaza all her life, and who has worked with Plan International as a youth ambassador. She is writing anonymously to protect her identity

As told to Sara Halawani and Sharon Goulds