Palestinian Children's Suffering

A child who died in Gaza because of the war

Imagine having to grow up in a conflict zone where you were constantly in danger. Where your parents could be taken from you at any time. Where soldiers surround your house at night. And where you don't have basic human rights like clean water. It is bad enough that these children have to suffer war but it is terrible that they have a lack of resources.

Did you know that 90% of the water in Gaza is unsafe to drink? And that 10 Palestinian children have been recently chased and stoned by Israelis and that one of those children had a severe anxiety attack? And that there are currently 192 Palestinian children in detention?



Having a lack of resources and growing up with war and death does not just affect a child in the short term, like that child who had a severe anxiety attack, it also affects children in the long term. Think of the mental damage that the Palestinian children could have for the rest of their lives because of what they have seen and then think about children who will be physically handicapped for the rest of their lives.



I wrote a poem last year for the children in Gaza and I read it at an event to support the Palestinians. Here is the poem.



Children of Gaza

It’s just the luck of birth,

That keeps us at separate ends of the Earth,

That doesn’t mean I forget you,

I won’t just sit and stew,

I will try and fight for you,

Try not to feel too blue,

Whatever happened to your life?

It’s all just suffering and strife,

The poor children of Gaza.



Why at such a young age,

Are you in a cage?

Always hiding,

Your confidence is sliding,

Surrounded by sadness,

Chaos and madness,

It really isn’t your fault,

That all your happiness was locked up in a vault,

The poor children of Gaza.



Where is the democracy?

You are shot at with accuracy,

You stand no chance,

When the soldiers are in a trance,

A trance to kill,

There’s nothing for you to leave in a will,

Many people have died,

You have cried,

The poor children of Gaza.



You don’t want the blockade,

Or the grenades,

It’s wrong you have to play with bullets,

Which rain down like comets,

Your siblings are dead,

You don’t like to think how much they bled,

You still have nightmares,

Where no one ever dares,

To save you from the soldiers,

The poor children of Gaza.



There’s still a bit of hope,

That one day there’ll be a rope,

That’ll pull you out of all this,

Wouldn’t that be bliss?

Your friends are always there,

Or someone who cares,

But there’s death lurking,

Soldiers are working,

At least you are still alive,

One day happiness will arrive,

For the poor children of Gaza.