An hour from Gaza, Israelis sip coffee as genocide rages
I am sitting in a coffee shop in Jaffa.
One of the oldest cities in the world, Jaffa - Yafa in Arabic - was once a flourishing Palestinian metropolis on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, with its own cultural life, newspapers, publishing houses, cinemas and theatres.
Today, however, it has been reduced to a suburb of Tel Aviv.
Israeli Jews live in gated communities while Palestinians are pushed out by prices that only affluent Ashkenazis can afford.
Anywhere else, this would be called gentrification, but in Israel, this population transfer has an ethnic flavour.
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The coffee shop I'm in is teeming with customers. It's just another day in the busy life of secular Israel.
Parallel lives
A woman near me sips her coffee while holding a yoga mat. A couple nearby are discussing a play they saw the day before at a theatre. They're also planning their Passover dinner, as the holiday is fast approaching.
This could be a scene out of any western capital. But here, the ordinary unfolds just an hour's drive away from Gaza, where the unimaginable has become routine.
At this point, I glance at my iPhone.
The world has grown comfortable with the nightly carnage… Beheaded babies, families burned alive in their tents - this is the new normal
Every morning for more than 18 months, Ahmed has been messaging me from Khan Younis.
"Tonight, 19 people were killed in the bombing of tents and homes here. I have done three interviews and collected photos and video material," Ahmed writes.
"Are you interested?" he asks, his question carrying a desperate poignancy.
Like everyone in Gaza, Ahmed knows the world has grown comfortable with the nightly carnage. Beheaded babies, families burned alive in their tents - this is the new normal.
So, is anyone really interested in what goes on every night in Gaza? It's a good question. I'd like to say yes. But in all honesty, I can't.
Ahmed is critically injured, yet he never misses a day to report on the daily horrors.
While I'm watching Ahmed's video - little bodies covered with white fabric, many children's faces exposed - the Israeli couple nearby are deciding whether to host the holiday dinner with her family or his.
In another clip on my phone, a little girl is among the survivors. At least 39,384 children in Gaza have lost one or both parents since the beginning of Israel's assault.
A woman addresses the camera: "What did she do to Israel? Is anyone listening?"
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Where I'm sitting, we're surrounded by hospitals. Why aren't the doctors rushing to save the people in Gaza? It's only an hour away.
Instead, the Israeli army is busy killing paramedics - and then covering up the fact.
The Israeli newspaper of record, Haaretz, reports that it's "common practice" for the army to bury their victims, as they did when they fired on a convoy of ambulances with their lights flashing.
"As for the testimonies that the soldiers buried the bodies and vehicles in the sand, the army claims that this is a common practice intended to prevent stray and feral dogs from harming the bodies," the report reads.
How many other bodies has the army killed and buried? The terror of killing people and then burying them has become normalised - just another line in this allegedly liberal newspaper.
Stream of horror
The news from Gaza never stops.
At 4am that morning, I received a message from Ruwaida, a young Palestinian woman who used to teach science in an elementary school: "The situation is very, very scary. The heavy bombing does not stop. I cannot sleep at night because of the intensity of the bombing.
"I am afraid that my heart will stop from the intensity of the fear and panic because the dangerous area they are working on as a new axis is adjacent to my area. If something happens to me, do not forget me and talk about me a lot. I am not a number; I am a very big story."
Ali, from northern Gaza, says his family went to sleep hungry. There was no food, no wheat, no wood to make a fire.
"It's hard with the little ones," he said. "It's hard to see them hungry. I spent all day wandering around to find something to buy - a kilo of sugar cost 50 shekels, that's if you can even find it."
Muhammad, from another area in Gaza, asked me if all the children killed so far were not enough for the world to stop the killing. What else needs to happen for the world to break its silence and end this horror?
Last week, 17-year-old Walid Khalid Abdullah Ahmad died in Israeli detention from what were likely signs of "starvation, dehydration from colitis-induced diarrhoea, and infectious complications - all compounded by prolonged malnutrition and denial of life-saving medical intervention," according to Defence for Children International-Palestine.
His father told Middle East Eye that Walid dreamed of becoming a football player. He also hoped to complete his studies abroad, specialising in finance and banking. He wanted to return to help his country. He had many ambitions, but the Israeli occupation buried them all, his father said.
Legal complicity
Last month, Israel's Supreme Court dismissed a petition filed by human rights organisations demanding that the state be obliged to provide adequate and consistent humanitarian aid to Gaza.
Israel's decision in early March to completely block the entry of aid and to renew the war was ignored by the court.
Liberal Israelis take to the streets to defend the High Court - the same court that rejected an appeal to allow aid into Gaza, thereby legitimising mass starvation
These are the decisions made every day by the judicial system that thousands of Israelis are fighting to protect in the name of democracy.
Liberal Israelis take to the streets to defend the High Court - the same court that rejected an appeal to allow aid into Gaza, thereby legitimising mass starvation.
I look at my iPhone again, which has become the Grim Reaper of news from Gaza.
A man from northern Gaza messages: "We are very weak, we are not eating, and our immune systems are weak.
"I paid $10 for one egg. My daughter is three years old and needs milk and essential food," he adds.
The world, however, chooses to ignore such pleas. Instead - just like Israelis - it has decided to watch on in silence, and carry on with life as usual.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.
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