Saleh Alnatoor, a Gaza survivor and veteran journalist, recounts the moment he finally left the war behind.
At that moment, friendly people wearing orange vests began approaching me.
They smiled at me, then shook my hand as if they had known me for a long time.
They told me they were employees of the Irish embassy, and offered me food and water. I was advised to relax and board the bus, saying that the journey to Dublin would be long.
Only then did I realize that I had left and survived the war and genocide in Gaza, and that within a few hours we would be transported to a safer place after crossing the Israeli Kerem Shalom crossing.
I had been separated from my wife and children for about two years, after I managed to get them out of the Gaza Strip five months after the war began to save them from Israeli massacres. But I remained there alone, working as a television correspondent. I moved from place to place, trying to survive so that I could catch up with them.
As days went by, I began to feel despair and fear. More than 650 days had passed since the war began, and nothing had changed.
I slept and worked in the streets, in tents, in hospitals near emergency wards, and among corpses.
I saw bombs falling relentlessly on my city.
Planes never left the sky, and the tanks kept advancing toward us; I could hear them every evening as they approached.
I could not find enough food, everyone was hungry, and the children gradually began to die of famine.
I started losing my memory and ability to concentrate, my immune system weakened, and I contracted infectious diseases.
More than 250 journalists were killed, and I constantly wondered if I would be the next to die.
A long time passed until that day came for me to escape the war.
The journey to Ireland began as if I were discovering life for the first time.
I boarded the plane and saw beautiful white clouds, no black smoke or ash like I used to see in Gaza.
I observed people’s faces and clothes and began listening to their different languages.
They were also curious to know how I managed to leave a city they knew only as a place of destruction and death, a city from which it was believed leaving alive was impossible.
The hours passed quickly until we arrived in Dublin.
I looked at the sky without fear this time, felt the rain on my face, and saw a rainbow. I began to breathe cold, fresh air.
I heard birds singing, and saw rivers, fields, farms, and rural houses.
These small details tried to bring life back to a person who had lost the sense of everything, someone who had lived all this time afraid, sleeping and working in the streets, tents, and hospitals.
I began studying a master’s program in Journalism and Media at the University of Limerick, a prestigious university that takes very good care of us.
I live with Mora and Neil, a kind Irish family living in a small village by the river, helping me integrate into life here.
I have come to love life and the people here in Ireland very much, but I do not know how long I will be allowed to stay.
At the same time, I was waiting to meet my wife and children. They had moved some time ago to live in Cape Town, South Africa, and are still far from me.
I could not bring them to Ireland and had to wait three months before I could travel to visit them, but they were happy that I had survived the war and was living in a safe country.
The days passed quickly, and the time came when I boarded the plane to finally meet them.
I was scared; I had not seen them for two years and had lived through severe psychological trauma. I just wanted to hug them and express some emotions.
Things in Gaza had been extremely difficult for journalists, every day we witnessed blood and corpses, and we lost the sense of everything.
There was a glass wall at Cape Town airport separating the arrivals corridor from the waiting area.
I searched for them there until I could see them, I ran toward them and hugged them all.
We cried a lot, and I heard my youngest child call me “Papa” for the first time.
When they left Gaza, he was three months old and could not speak.
And now, here we are today, as one family, trying to rebuild our lives and settle in a safe country like Ireland.
We do not know what the coming days will bring, but the important thing is that we are together.