What Freedom Feels Like After Gaza

For Palestinians who escaped Gaza, reaching Europe should have meant safety and freedom. Instead, life abroad has brought a painful mixture of relief, guilt, trauma and longing for home.

Omar and Saleem, two Palestinians who left Gaza and now live in Dublin and London, describe how difficult it has been to adjust to ordinary life after the destruction they experienced.

Omar says he was not allowed to take belongings with him when he left Gaza. His family home, where he was born and raised, had already been destroyed. He eventually carried a small reminder of home: a sock belonging to his mother that accidentally ended up in his luggage. He kept it under his pillow and says he sometimes cried while holding it.

For Saleem, airports became places of anxiety. He says he hides his refugee passport because he fears being treated differently once officials see it. Despite living and working in Britain, he says he wants his country to stop supporting policies he believes are contributing to Gaza's suffering so he can eventually return home.

Life outside Gaza also feels strange because the world continues as normal. People go on holidays, children play and families gather in public spaces, while Palestinians remain focused on news of deaths, displacement and destruction.

The situation is also difficult in the West Bank. Movement restrictions, checkpoints and hundreds of barriers can turn short journeys into hours-long ordeals. Families must constantly adjust their lives around sudden closures.

For Palestinians living in areas affected by settler and military violence, even nighttime can become a source of fear. One mother describes staying awake with her five children because of the possibility of raids. Her children have already experienced a military raid and the arrest of their father.

The contrast between ordinary life in Europe and the reality Palestinians left behind creates a deep emotional divide. Freedom may mean safety from immediate danger, but it does not erase memories, separation or grief.

For Omar and Saleem, leaving Gaza did not mean leaving Gaza behind. Their families, language, memories and destroyed homes remain part of their lives—and the feeling of freedom is inseparable from the people and place they were forced to leave.