Abdullah Alshanti, 26, is a user experience and interface designer. Before the war, he worked with a travel technology startup called Fluxir. He also worked in the electro-mechanical department of a hospital, building medical sterilisation devices.
Can you describe an average day in your life before this war?
I was filled with drive. I had vision, I wanted to excel. I wanted to make the most of every minute of life, to grow my skills. My daily routine involved waking up early to get to work at the hospital in the morning. After finishing my shift at 2pm, I would go home for lunch. After lunch, I’d have a rest, then work for Fluxir, often late into the night.
There were also nights out with friends, going to restaurants and playing football. Life in Gaza was truly flourishing, and everything was beautiful, worth living for.
What are the challenges of keeping up with work?
There hasn’t been an opportunity to work during the war. The circumstances of our daily lives – and the mental challenges that go along with it – all make work feel impossible. I can manage an hour or two at a time with what little power I can get on my laptop, and the poor internet connectivity. Most of my day is spent on basic survival tasks, like getting water and food.
Where in Gaza are you living at the moment, and what are conditions like?
I’m in Deir al-Balah in central Gaza. I moved here after the Israeli military ordered everyone to evacuate Gaza City last November. We have been displaced seven times. Initially we left our family home in the north and fled south: we moved four times within Khan Younis. From there we fled to Deir al-Balah, then to Rafah. For the past month we’ve been back here but, honestly, it’s now worse than it was in the north. I’m living in a tent, but there are bombings that hit the tents and the shelters. The situation is dire.
My financial situation has crumbled because of the cost of moving my belongings and my family, and all this moving has taken a psychological toll. My parents are in their 60s and have health issues, and I just want to keep them safe, away from the bombings and destruction all around us.
What is an average day like for you now?
Every day starts with the same critical task, which is to get water for washing and cooking. From the moment we wake up we’re in long queues for either a well or a solar-powered water system. This process takes roughly four to five hours. Most of the water is not fit to drink, but we use whatever is available.
Then, the challenge of preparing food begins. Food in general is scarce, and there is very little with the kind of protein or vitamins you need to get through the day. The only way to cook is to light a fire, using wood, but under the full sun where the temperature can reach 37C.
Cooking continues until the afternoon. Then it’s time to prioritise charging our devices. By the evening, we start trying to check on our friends and family, but night-time brings its own difficulties. The sound of explosions becomes more frequent as the night wears on.
How often are you able to charge your devices, your laptop and mobile phone?
Charging devices is a difficult process that involves several stages. First, you have to gather the items to charge – mobile phones, laptops, batteries. There are private projects where you can charge devices for a fee, usually about £8 per charge, using solar power during the afternoon. After waiting three, four, or even five hours, you return to collect your charged device and pay. Honestly, this is one of the toughest challenges we face: ensuring our devices are charged and staying on top of the news. Accessing the internet is also very difficult.
It’s difficult to find a phone signal in much of Gaza. How do you adapt?
This is a recurring issue. During any major operations, the internet and phone signal are cut off, leaving us completely isolated from the world and even each other. Communicating with friends and relatives becomes nearly impossible without a signal.
When you can get a phone signal, who do you contact first?
The ones I want to stay in constant contact with are my close family members – my siblings, uncles and aunts. Our family is spread across Gaza, some are in Khan Younis, others are in the north. It is crucial for me to communicate with them – they are my close circle – but mostly there is no signal. The second circle are my friends, and the third is former colleagues. Especially during the war, with news of constant casualties, it’s essential to check on them.
For example, today I heard about a series of airstrikes in an area of Khan Younis, where my sister lives. I immediately wanted to pick up the phone and check on her. But because of a poor signal, it took multiple attempts – four, five, even six calls – just to get through and confirm that she was all right.
