I participated in the Global March for Gaza because the countries of the world that have the power to stop Israel’s ongoing atrocities against the people of Gaza have done nothing whatsoever to change the situation. The situation is absolutely appalling. I wanted the people of Gaza to know that even if the governments of the world refuse to see their suffering or do anything to bring it to an end, there are ordinary citizens willing to travel across the world to stand with them and demand that they be released from the deadly prison that Gaza has become thanks to the utter impunity Israel and the United States enjoy on the world stage.

Those of us who went knew that the Egyptian authorities might not allow us to carry out our planned march from al-Arish to the Rafah border crossing. However, the march organizers were engaged in good-faith efforts to negotiate with the Egyptian government and to seek their approval, so we went, trusting that our efforts would make some sort of a difference, if even just on the symbolic level, and help to raise global awareness of the horrific and unjustifiable nature of the Palestinians’ suffering.

I had never done anything of this nature before, and I felt frightened and overwhelmed at times as I struggled with the decision of whether to go; I had to push past fears and doubts on numerous occasions, but the sense of necessity and the dire nature of the situation kept me moving forward. I was blessed to have found someone to share a hotel room with before arriving, and she and I were supportive of each other both before and after arriving in Egypt.

The first day we were there, June 13, 2025, we had initially been scheduled to meet at an agreed-upon location in Cairo, board buses to al-Arish, and then again seek permission to march from there to Rafah. However, the plan changed for reasons we weren’t fully aware of (I suspect that the Egyptian authorities were making things difficult for the organizers, and it may have been difficult to find drivers for the buses given the heavy surveillance under which Egyptians must live). In any case, we were instructed to make our way in small groups to the town of Ismailiyya, an hour and a half from Cairo, where we hoped to meet and plan next steps.

In the days that followed, it became clear that we were, indeed, being watched and followed, and scores of activists from various countries were detained and deported.

Three of us set out in a taxi for Ismailiyya, but when we came to the first checkpoint along the road, we were not allowed through. We were told we would have to surrender our passports for some reason. Many non-Egyptians were standing around a nearby building, and it became apparent that they had handed over their passports and had been waiting for them for hours, but to no avail. Some of them warned us not to hand over our passports for fear of not getting them back. Our taxi driver had had his license pulled, and I think he was questioned, though of course he had no clue about anything!

Eventually, the taxi driver got his license back, and we were urged to go back to Cairo. However, we felt as though it was our moral obligation to stay with all the would-be marchers who were stranded without their passports, so we stayed with them instead. The hours went by, and a sense of community began to develop among the people there. At one point, some military vehicles drove up and parked, and very young-looking armed soldiers got out and basically just stood there watching us.

Still more hours later, some of the would-be marchers said, “Well, everybody knows why we’re here, so we might as well........

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