I remember Gaza before the war. It was a vibrant city, full of life and color. Our neighborhood was always noisy with children playing and neighbors talking. My family loved to walk to the seaside in the evenings and visit the old market on Fridays.
Then, two years ago, the conflict began and changed everything. The sounds of laughter were replaced by the sounds of explosions. We lived in fear because our homes were no longer safe. We had to abandon our house, leaving behind so much of our lives.
I returned to my neighborhood recently. I saw that my old home was now just a pile of rubble. The school I attended and the café where I met my friends were also destroyed. It was difficult to recognize the streets I walked down every day.
All I have left are the memories of the city I loved. I cherished those moments of peace and happiness. That Gaza, the one that lives in my mind, is gone from the world. It is a painful reality to accept.