Honestly, I don’t know how to describe what I lived through today. Even though I have been living in Gaza and documenting what is happening since the beginning of the war, what I witnessed today was one of the most shocking and painful scenes of my entire life.
A group of families living in a very remote camp, almost directly beside the Israeli sand berms, contacted us. They told us they had not received water for a long time. At first, we hesitated because reaching the area with a water truck meant entering an extremely dangerous zone. In the end, we decided to try.
Throughout the journey, I saw destruction and rubble everywhere, but the scene that awaited us near the camp was unlike anything else. Directly in front of us were the sand berms and Israeli cranes, surrounded by a landscape of devastation where little remained except tents and ruins.
When the water truck was still about a kilometer away, people began shouting and running toward it. Women, children, and elderly people carried empty water containers and ran with all the strength they had, terrified that the water would run out before their turn came.
The moment the truck stopped, large numbers of people emerged from among the rubble and damaged tents. They were not looking for food, shelter, or anything else. They were looking for water. Just water.
This time we distributed 6,000 liters of clean water, more than we had distributed before, but even that was not enough. Many people remained waiting, and some left without receiving enough water for their families.
As we distributed the water and documented what was happening, fear never left us for a single moment. Yet what I felt in the face of such immense suffering was greater than fear itself.
Today I witnessed a level of thirst I never imagined I would see. I saw mothers running after a water truck, and children clutching empty containers as if they were holding on to their last hope.
I thought I had already seen everything during this war, but what I witnessed today made me realize that the humanitarian catastrophe is far greater than what the world sees on television screens. This is not simply a shortage of services or difficult living conditions. It is a daily struggle for the most basic necessities of survival.
We are facing a real humanitarian disaster that grows worse with each passing day, while thousands of families wake up every morning searching for one thing only: water.
Trabajo en una audiencia de VG ejecutando Sentencias, voy a contar algunas conversaciones divertidas, por no decir otra cosa, con familiares/amigos de los maltratadores condenados que siempre están indignadísimos porque las denuncias son todas falsas (según ellos claro)
Carta de Madina Ayar, una joven periodista desde Kabul. “El silencio sobre Afganistán en el mundo no es sólo indiferencia. El silencio frente a la opresión es complicidad.” #StandWithAfghanWomen https://t.co/6ZcTK16QVy
📖 Sí, en España también. Los hombres no leen a las mujeres
Alba Crusellas, consultora en igualdad de género, analiza los datos que confirman que los hombres apenas leen a autoras. Argumenta que el sexismo y el "androcentrismo cultural" perpetúan una brecha que devalúa la autoridad intelectual femenina.
📲 Leer y compartir 👉 https://t.co/jMphnlhr19
📺 TV en DIRECTO | Rufián (ERC): "Esto es un listado de los niños asesinados por Israel. Casi 30 páginas. 15.000 niños. Israel asesina en Palestina mucho antes que Hamás existiera. Y ustedes justifican esta canallada. Es de malnacido" https://t.co/ufwqsgMNKW
📌 Blasco de Garay 59
Esta calle de Chamberi me sirve de ejemplo perfecto para mostrar como en poco tiempo, los apartamentos turísticos están destruyendo el comercio local del barrio y su identidad
Enero 2023 ➡️Junio 2024
😪 Adiós Bares
👋 Hola Airbnb
(continúa)
José Manuel y María tienen 82 y 78 años. Mañana serán desahuciados en el barrio obrero de Carabanchel (Madrid) en el que han vivido juntos toda su vida. Esto sí que es violencia.