by corrie | Feb 25, 2026 | Dagbók
Ramadan Ramadan evenings in Gaza once carried a spirit unlike anywhere else… a spirit all their own. On those nights, time seemed to move with a gentle slowness, as if it wanted to give people a little longer to feel joy. Minutes before the call to Maghrib prayer,...
by corrie | Oct 16, 2025 | Dagbók
When the Sounds Faded That night, silence fell over the camp for the first time in months. No explosions. No sirens. No cries of children. Even the wind seemed exhausted, as if it too had decided to rest from carrying the scent of smoke. I sat in front of the...
by corrie | Oct 12, 2025 | Dagbók
Until when will I remain a refugee in my own homeland? Until when will I remain a refugee in my own homeland? A question that echoes deep inside me every morning, when I open my eyes to a reality without shape or promise. No home to return to, no job to sustain my...
by corrie | Oct 9, 2025 | Dagbók
Mixed feelings… I can’t quite describe them Mixed feelings… I can’t quite describe them. Two years have passed — yet they feel like a lifetime. Between the sounds of bombings, running through the rubble, and waiting for a dawn that never came. Today they say the war...
by corrie | Oct 8, 2025 | Dagbók
If only time could rewind and let us pause right there If only time could rewind and let us pause right there — before everything changed, before fear took root in our days, before our dreams were scattered like dust in the wind. Maybe then, October 8 would not just...
