Image by Emad El Byed.

I remember writing about Eid in Gaza two years ago during the genocide, feeling my heart break as I expressed the bittersweet feelings we endured during that time. Now, I write these words from a different place—far from the appalling sounds of bombs, from being trapped in a cage, from a graveyard of destruction. I am writing as a survivor of the genocide, having lived under its suffocating grip for more than 17 months. While I write, I feel like I am dreaming; I wish someone would wake me up and tell me this is reality. Words fail to describe how I managed to evacuate Gaza alone to continue my postgraduate studies just two months ago, leaving my family suffering behind. Gaza will never leave me—something I remind myself of daily.

This year, on June 6th, we mark Eid Al Adha for Muslims around the world, but this Eid feels different for me. I am alone here in exile, while my family and the people of Gaza suffer, unable to feel the blessing of this occasion.

Muslims celebrate two Eids, Eid Al Fitr and Eid Al Adha, and in Gaza before the genocide, there were cherished rituals and traditions that marked these days. Let me take you on that journey. Not only do my people in Gaza cling to those memories and celebrations, but I myself hold onto them with tearful eyes, recalling even the simplest moments. I know how hard it is to experience such occasions amid war and killings. I lived through those heart-wrenching moments with my family: empty streets replaced by rubble, the sounds of Takbirat during Eid prayers filled with agony, and the absence of joy. In Gaza, instead of celebrating, people mourn; mothers mourn their children, others sit on rubble, some visit the graves of martyrs—if they are lucky enough to find them, as even graves have been bombed. For me, in exile, I feel suffocated, far from my parents, from my young siblings who would run to me, hugging me tightly and asking, “Where is the candy? Where is the Eidia?” The feeling of loneliness amidst many people around me is heartbreaking. Even if I try to find happiness in other ways, going here, going there, I still remember those Eids with my family. I long to return, even for the simplest moments, to be near them again.

Preparation for Eid always began weeks in advance. Two weeks prior, bustling crowds would venture out to shop for necessities. Every corner in Gaza would be decorated with food and desserts,........

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