When I began writing Beneath the Gaza Sky, I was not in Gaza but Gaza never left me. I was thousands of miles away, stranded in Malaysia, having left home just weeks before the war erupted in October 2023. My family, my wife and children, are still in northern Gaza, under fire, under siege, and out of reach. Each night I sat alone, staring at the screen, wondering if my family was still alive. I wrote because it was the only thing I could still do for them.

This book was born in exile, but every word in it bleeds Gaza. I wrote while following the news of bombings, while receiving fragmented updates from neighbors and friends. I wrote with a heart split between survival and guilt. I wrote because memory is resistance. And I wrote because telling our stories is one way to remain human when the world treats us as collateral damage.

Beneath the Gaza Sky is not just a memoir. It is a testimony. It is the voice of a father separated from his children, a witness to a genocide unfolding in real time. It tells of childhoods lived under drones, of homes reduced to dust, of love that refuses to die beneath the rubble. It is a book that refuses silence.

In Western discourse, Gaza is often stripped of its complexity, flattened into statistics, or framed as a battlefield devoid of dreams. Rarely are Palestinians allowed to narrate their own lives. This book is my attempt to reclaim that narrative. It is a powerful human testimony to the raw truth of life under Israeli occupation, a gripping, heartfelt narrative, intertwining the innocence of childhood with the brutal realities of war. In a world of bombardment and loss, I share stories of family, love, grief, and longing—a reality where pain is imposed yet hope refuses to die. More than a memoir, this book stands as a tribute to the unbreakable spirit of Gaza’s people, a culture that defies erasure, and a Palestinian identity that endures despite siege and destruction. It was recently longlisted for the Palestine Book Awards, an annual prize that honors outstanding works that reflect the richness and resilience of Palestinian life and history.

Stories as Tools for Solidarity

Beneath the Gaza Sky is not meant only to inform—it is meant to mobilize. For readers of ZNetwork who are committed to justice and transformation, I offer this book as a resource. Organize reading circles. Translate it. Share it in your classrooms, unions, and communities. Let it serve as an entry point to deeper engagement, political education, and collective action.

In Gaza, words are fragile. Libraries are bombed. Writers are buried. But as long as our stories are read, the occupation has not won.

A Call from Exile

I do not ask for pity. I ask for principled solidarity. The kind that resists simplifications, that demands ceasefires and accountability, that centers Palestinian voices—not just in moments of crisis, but always.

Even as I write these words today, on the 634th day of war, my family is still trapped in Gaza. I have not hugged my daughter since she was six months old. My son asks when I’m coming back. I have no answer. But I have this book. I have this voice.

Even from exile, I resist. Even beneath the Gaza sky, we live.

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