Nagham Bassam

Refugee / Displaced

Home, to me, is the warmth of our house that was bombed, and the gathering of my family that used to be full of laughter, games, and mouthwatering food. It is our neighborhood and its people, who have vanished, whose faces have been erased. Home is our traditional dishes that we used to wait for at weddings and holidays just to eat them.

Home is my family… my father, my mother, and my sisters. No matter where I go, I’ll never find a hug or people who understand me like they do. And something I never expected to be part of “home” … my university and its roads. Even the sound of the mosques, the Taraweeh and Eid prayers, they were home and part of my identity.

I could summarize all this and say that my homeland is Gaza in all its details, its people, its sweetness and its bitterness. No matter how much it hurts me, I will continue to love it, and my heart aches every day for what is happening there. Gaza, my beloved.

Gaza is not just my place… Gaza is part of who I am.

My Journey

My journey was full of pain that no one can imagine. I was an ordinary student who loved my studies, even though they were hard and strange to me. But I tried to adapt so I could graduate and fulfill my dream. I never expected the day would come when I would say that our house was bombed on the first day of the war, and that our whole life flipped in seconds.

Since then the displacement began. We were displaced about 11 times. Every place we went, we carried our worries, our fears, and memories that were lost. The first place we sought refuge, we were surrounded by three very powerful rockets. At that moment I felt it was the end… that we were going to die. But God saved us by a miracle.

After that we went to Dar Al-Sidi, then we tried to head south, walking a long road near the army. We didn’t know if we would finish walking or if a bullet would end everything. Throughout the journey, my heart ached for my mother and father, who were exhausted from walking, and for my siblings whom I was afraid would be captured or killed.

When we reached the south, we lived in a school for three months. Life there was very difficult… contaminated water, no privacy, no cleanliness, no safety. Then a threat came to the area, so we moved to Rafah, and we were displaced to a tent on empty land, with no water, no electricity, and no basic necessities for life.

Because of extreme heat and polluted water, I got a stomach infection and hepatitis A. I felt I was going to die from exhaustion and illness. And when another threat came to Rafah, we returned to Deir Al-Balah, and now I am living in a tent there.

The war is still ongoing. It takes from us everything: our people, our memories, our homes, our safety. But despite all this pain, I did not abandon my studies. I returned to study in January 2024 in Rafah, under the sound of bombing. I walked long distances to find a place with the internet so I could submit my exams. I studied while my body was exhausted from lack of food, and my mind was confused from fear and displacement. Thank God, I graduated this month despite everything.

I didn’t stop at studying only. I joined the Social Development Forum, and participated in training about humanitarian work in emergency times, and how to deal with vulnerable groups in our society. I learned how to provide services in a way that ensures human dignity and meets needs, with integrity and transparency. I facilitated many workshops to promote values and raise awareness about important topics, and I trained my peers. 

But, despite all those responsibilities, inside I’m still a child wishing to return to her house, to sleep in her bed in safety, without fear that she won’t wake up the next day, or hear the news of someone she loves being martyred.

Lessons and Challenges

My journey taught me that life is not only made of beautiful days… life is strength, patience, and the ability to rise after every fall. It taught me that I do not have to be “okay” to help others, but I must be strong.

I overcame all these challenges with patience, determination, and prayer. I always told myself: “No matter what happens, I must stay strong… for my family, so I can achieve my dream, and be a voice for those who cannot raise theirs.”

Moment of Strength

The moment I felt my inner strength most was when we set out walking toward the south after threats to Al-Shifa Hospital. We walked for hours under the sun, the situation was terrifying, and we walked beside the army not knowing if we would reach or not. I was very afraid, but at the same time I felt I had to be strong for my mother, my father, and my siblings. I didn’t want to show weakness in front of them.

I held myself together, and in my heart I said: “Nagham, you must remain standing. You must protect them with your calmness, no matter how scared you are.” In that moment I understood that true strength is not not being afraid… true strength is remaining standing despite fear.

My Message to the World

I hope that when people hear my story they know that however hard their lives might be, there are those living conditions much worse, yet they still have hope, and they still try to continue. I hope my story teaches them that strength is not never falling, true strength is rising each time you fall and continuing despite the exhaustion, fear, and injustice.

I also hope my story sends a message to the world: that the people of Gaza are not just numbers or news… We are human, living deep pain, dreaming of the simplest rights of life: safety, serenity. Perhaps my story helps people appreciate their lives more, plants humanity and compassion in their hearts, and awakens them to the fact that there are people in need of their voice and their support so they may live in dignity.

I want to say that my story is not an exception. There are thousands of voices who have not been able to raise theirs, maybe never had a chance to share their pain. I am just one among many.

And I hope… do not forget Gaza. And its people who have lived and are still living daily tragedies. Remember, they are not just statistics in the news but human beings with dreams, stories, and dignity… they deserve to have their voices heard..