Mirna Ayyad

My name is Mirna Ayyad, from Gaza.
My husband Rami and I are blessed with two children: Mira (10) and Ameer (7). We are a small family who love life and cherish family relationships. We eagerly await the end of our responsibilities and the weekend to spend quality time with our loved ones and friends. Our small, warm home has always been a source of safety and comfort for us. We would sit on the couch, sipping hot coffee with the children around us, happy in those moments.
October 7, 2023, is a date that will never be forgotten, as it changed our simple and warm life into one of pain, hardship, and loss. We received a call telling us to evacuate our home. We decided to escape to a church, which opened the doors to provide us with safety. We headed there, hoping to return to our warm home after a few hours. Little did we know that we would end up spending over seven months there.
We were informed that the street where we lived had been completely destroyed. Our home was turned to rubble. We took a deep breath, and with full faith, we thanked God that we weren’t there, or else we might have lost our lives.
Our long stay at the church was marked by the sounds of explosions and direct targeting. The church witnessed many martyrs. All of this unfolded before our eyes and the eyes of our children. The scenes of death, the smell, and the sound of explosions were incredibly harsh, and we will never forget them.
Food became scarce. There were no wheat grains, fruits, or vegetables. Our bodies grew weak and tired, suffering from the constant hunger. As parents, we gave our small portions of food to the children to ensure they didn’t feel hungry. We spent many days eating only one meal a day. Tensions were high everywhere. Shrapnel fell around us, and we continued to pray for God’s protection.
After seven months, we decided to go to Egypt and then seek refuge in Australia, searching for safety and security for ourselves and our children. This required a large sum of money to secure entry coordination to Egypt. We paid the amount, only to find out that the coordination was granted for myself and the children, while their father remained on the waiting list. By the time the crossing points closed, he couldn’t make it to Egypt and was unable to travel to Australia.
We were staying in a church in the north, which meant we needed to cross a checkpoint and head south to reach the crossing point to Egypt. The road was extremely long, and the city was destroyed. We couldn’t recognise it anymore. All the houses and roads were demolished. We walked on foot for over seven kilometers, seeing the destruction around us and smelling death in the air. We were exposed to danger and felt that we might lose our lives at any moment.
The children and I eventually reached Egypt after many challenges, facing a large unfamiliar country and a new culture. We stayed in Egypt waiting for their father, but six months passed – filled with longing and worry about him and our family back there.
Meanwhile, Rami lost his father in the north. He couldn’t even go to bid him farewell because he had been moved to the south. His father’s passing deeply affected him, and he fell into a bad mental state. Today, he lives in a room smaller than one meter by one meter. It is very simple, lacking basic necessities. Rain and cold fall on him. He has suffered from a lack of food for months and has even been without enough clothing. When we crossed from the north to the south, we couldn’t carry our luggage and had to leave it on the road, walking with barely any clothes to cover us.
My husband and I have been married for thirteen years. We are used to a shared life, making decisions together and bearing the responsibilities as partners. Since the war, our lives have completely transformed. From our simple life filled with love and cooperation, we have been torn apart by vast distances.
Now, I am alone with my children. We have moved between two countries with vastly different cultures – an incredibly difficult challenge that no mind could truly comprehend. I have suffered, and continue to suffer, in moments of weakness and surrender. I have become more sensitive, feeling immense loneliness and burdened by the constant worry for my husband while trying to maintain balance in my new life. I am working hard to support my children emotionally – to help them forget their traumatic experiences and ease their longing for their father. But the challenges of maintaining communication – with frequent internet outages and the challenges of time zone differences since arriving in Australia – mean their longing cannot be satiated.
I suffer from a lack of sleep and interrupted rest due to my constant worry about my husband. I now awake every hour or two through the night to check my phone and ensure he is still safe and alive. As for Rami, he longs for his family deeply. He feels immense loneliness after more than six months of living in a small, dark room without relatives or friends. Every day, he lives under constant bombardment and missile strikes, which has put him in an extremely turbulent psychological state.
In order to come to Australia, we sacrificed many things. First and foremost, we left our family behind in a war zone. None of this was easy, but we had to make these sacrifices for the sake of our children’s future. As parents, we think about the future of our children, who have lost a year and a half of schooling and are disconnected from their education. We are focused on providing safety and security and helping them have a decent life, far from the sound of bombs. The situation is still difficult; things are still incredibly challenging.
As a mother, I am certain that if my husband were here, things would be somewhat easier. His absence has left me exhausted and burdened with many responsibilities. If he cannot come here, it could be the final blow to our family after we have already lost everything – our home, our family, our jobs.
If Rami is given the opportunity to join us in Australia, we will regain our sense of safety and stability. We will feel the joy of sharing meals together at the same table. We will sit on the couch late at night, exchanging stories about our day. The responsibilities and decision-making will be shared once again. We will return to being one family, united by love. This has become our dream. 
Mirna Ayyad