Bathing once every 10 days: reality of the water crisis of the northern gauze | Israel-Palestine News of Conflict

Beit Lahiya, Gaza, Palestine -They of high piles of ruins and destruction, mother of five Fatena Abu Haloub, her family and her laws set up neighboring tents on the ruins of what was once their extended family home.

Her husband Karama-60-year-old Dalal and 65-year-old Nasser are eight children, three sons and five daughters, two of whom still live at home.

Home is now a small tent next to Karama and Fatena with a fiery pit in front of and improvised “zones”.

There is a kitchen – no more than a few wooden holiday boards and their small food supplies – near the fire.

There is a bathroom in the side, a stone hole dug in a sand that serves as a larina with multiple stones that signifies a tiny swimsuit, the whole part armored blankets covered with sticks stuck upright into the ground.

Everywhere, the jugs and buckets for collecting water are complex, which has become a daily struggle of the family.

Serious water disadvantage has been stifling the area, which became more obvious since the displaced inhabitants began to return to their homes when the truce between Israel and Hamas began on January 19th. Oxfam says Water supply at 7 percent are pre -confessed levels, as the Israeli bombing of the besieged enclave has destroyed the infrastructure of water and sanitary infrastructure.

Fighting for water

Faten, 28, and Karam, 39, start in the morning wearing buckets to fill from municipal pipes or any other source of water they can find.

Sometimes Karam’s parents join them in pulling out and in the search for water, something that they do not hear in the traditional Gaza society, in which the elders do not do such physically demanding tasks. Younger family members usually work them.

However, the war has succeeded in all conventions. Because the resources were stretched out and survived everyone, including older and young children, forced to contribute.

Karam’s two brothers living in tents nearby carry a major responsibility for water insurance, but when the water runs out, the whole family goes out in all directions to look for more.

Through Israel, more than a 15-month war against Gaza, Faten’s family remained in the north, baking intense bombing until they were forced to escape to the city of Western Gaza in October when the great Israeli offensive in the north began and lasted and lasted for three months.

“We didn’t want to leave. … We were among the last people to stay in the north, ”says Faten.

“But in the end, we couldn’t stay. As soon as the fire interruption was announced, my husband immediately returned to see our home,” Faten says as he sat on the stone next to the fiery pit and gesture to the ruin around her.

“I didn’t recognize the area or where our home once stood. The level of destruction was shocking.

“How can people live in a destroyed place? There are no basic things, no infrastructure, without water, sewage, no electricity,” says Faten. “Sometimes, I think we would be better off dying in war.”

Sometimes a water truck appears, she says, and everyone in the family is running to try to get a place in line to fill. But sometimes Abu Haloubs don’t get a place and sometimes water runs out.

Faten notes that no one provides a constant water supply and, although he knows that municipalities are not able to return the pipes in the middle of the destruction, hopes that someone involved in the assistance process – local authorities, international assistance or humanitarian groups will be able to be able to be able to help.

No relief in sight

To say that water has become an obsession for the family, it puts it lightly.

“We are strictly rated. We are afraid to spend one drop,” Faten says with a laugh as her mother -in -law joins the conversation.

“I spend all day shouting at my daughters and daughters about the use of water,” Dalal says.

“I have set strict rules. No more than one person can not bathe daily. Bathing is limited to one 10 days. Only one family can make a laundry a day,” Dalal says as he sits at the fire, preparing tea and coffee for his surveyors.

“We used to have 5000 liters [1,320-gallon] Water tanks at home and water pumping streams, “she reminds.

“We have never lived like this before. I used to buy my children every day or every other day,” Faten agrees.

“Children are dirty and need constant concern, but this is almost impossible now.”

Karam interrupts as he salesly washes the hands of his children and faces. “My back are broken from wearing water.”

But they had to do, Faten says, recounting that recent storms presented an unexpected blessing.

“When the storm hit, the water trucks disappeared, so we started collecting rainwater in all the containers, the buckets and the cadim we could find.

“At first, the people around us were skeptical, but soon followed our leadership. We used rainwater for everyone. It became a perfect alternative.”

Dreaming of basic comforts

“Having running tap water feels like an impossible dream. Proper liquid water bathroom is also a dream, “says Faten.

“Pipes, bowels and taps with water – these are now dreams for us.”

When they lived in tents in the town of Western Gaza before the trial, they dreamed of small comfort, especially when they heard that mobile homes would be brought in as part of a truce.

“We were so happy. … People even started arguing about who would get these caravans, “says Faten, laughing.

“We were told that they would be received by families with more than six members and I thought to myself,” If I had only two children so I could qualify for one! “

“But the reality was different,” she says. “No caravan, no services, without reconstruction, without water, removing ruins. Nothing. We just got back to live in the middle of destruction.”

“The war is not over. We still live it. His shadow has never left us life.”