Peace for whom?

The world leaders and international news claim that the genocide has ended, that peace has been achieved. But they are lying. There is no such thing as a ceasefire yet.The noisy drones never left. We've witnessed days recently more deadly than many during the genocide. Every few minutes, I still hear shooting and loud explosions in the distance. They make my bed shake; but they no longer make my heart tremble.

TWo days ago, a female doctor was shot in the leg while working at a field hospital in Khan Younis, hit by a random bullet from a tank. Many children were killed and injured the same day, when a school was targeted by drones, during what was supposed to be a wedding celebration. I saw a video of a little girl from there shot in the head, her face mixed with makeup and blood.

We are still counting the days of this genocide.

I still see explosive and gunshot injuries in every shift. People are still being injured and killed. Most chronically ill patients can't find their medications; many haven't taken their essential drugs for months. Tens of thousands of wounded and sick wait desperately for evacuation; some die waiting.

Thousands of hostages are being tortured, including many doctors; like Dr. Abu Safia and my colleague, Dr. Mosab. Thousands of martyrs remain under the rubble, among them many of my family members.

The health system remains in total collapse. Medics struggle to save lives with what little they have. My family and neighbors haven't received aid since the so-called dea. No gas, no fuel, no meat, no milk, not even basic painkillers are allovwed in.

We are literally still trapped, still tortured, still being killed, painfully and slowly. And yet, world leaders seem comfortable calling this *peace.

Peace for whom? For the perpetrators of genocide? What about us? Aren't we part of this "peace"

As for myself, world, I come with peace, a million times to tell you that I've reached a place beyond hope.

My fragile heart is locked in a solitary cell, my weary mind trapped in a cage of stone.

I exist on pain, and my daily routine is a mountain of struggles. Waiting for peace is not a peaceful thing to do; not for days, nor weeks, but for ages.