There are moments in Gaza when suffering becomes so ordinary that people stop asking for solutions.
They begin asking only for the smallest relief. A little less pain.
A child who sleeps through the night.
When I entered the clinic that morning, I noticed a young woman carrying a baby so small that I could not tell whether the child was a newborn or simply made tiny by hardship.
When her turn came, she gently placed the baby on my desk and said:
“I want any cream you have.” Any cream. Not a specific medicine. Not a particular treatment.
Just anything.
She uncovered the baby and showed me the severe rash covering much of the child’s fragile skin.
“I treat the baby with whatever free creams I can find in clinics,” she explained.
“Anything helps.”
As she spoke, I noticed something else. The baby was not wearing a diaper. Only pieces of cloth.
I asked why.
“I can’t afford diapers,” she replied calmly. “I wash these and use them again.”
Then she added that they were living in a tent and that her husband had suffered a serious foot injury and was unable to work.
“I’m not asking for much,” she said.
“I only want a cream.”
But what caught my attention most was not the rash.
It was the malnutrition.
The baby was severely underweight. The kind of malnutrition that is visible before any examination even begins.
So I asked the mother whether she had noticed.
She nodded. “Yes, I know.”
Then she said something I cannot forget: “When the baby gets older, things will get better.”
Not because she truly believed it.
But because hope was cheaper than treatment.
And treatment was something she could no longer afford. That was the moment that broke me.
Not the tent. Not the poverty. Not even the illness.
But the fact that this mother had lowered her expectations so much that she no longer dreamed of proper medical care, diapers, or adequate nutrition.
She came asking for the smallest thing she could imagine. A tube of cream.
Any cream.
Something that might make the baby hurt a little less.
The baby could not have been more than five months old.
Too young to understand war. Too young to understand poverty. Yet already carrying both on that tiny body.
There is something profoundly cruel about a world in which a mother’s greatest hope for her child is no longer a better future.
Only a little less suffering tonight.
#WoundedGaza
Une prédatrice sexuelle de 39 ans qui a abusé d'un mineur de 14 ans en usant de son autorité de prof, laisse sa marque devant un hôpital pour enfants.
Il n'y a que moi que ça choque cette arrogance et cette impunité, encore plus en pleine affaire #Lyhanna ?
Ce qu’il se passe à Belfast c’est le truc le plus choquant que j’ai vu de ma vie mettre le feu aux maisons pendant que les gens dorment pour les tuer pcq ils sont noirs, arabes, musulmans wow des enfants, des bébés sauvés de justesse franchement je suis terrifié par ces gens
On ne s'en rend pas compte mais le monde a fini par s'habituer au calvaire des Palestiniens.
Des enfants meurent chaque jour et ça ne choque plus personne on dirait
🚨Operation number three in less than a week‼️
During the Israeli army shelling of Gaza over the past week, infant Mohammed Al-Khatib
is now entering his third surgery after losing his foot and his mother.