The Request [Under Construction]

8. You Were Warned

8. You Were Warned

 "What do you mean it's been stopped?"

"I'm not sure, Julie. They're not allowing anything into Gaza at the moment. There are so many trucks and aide that has been stopped at the borders."

"Oh my God, that's terrible!" I sighed heavily. "Keep me updated with it?"

"Of course," Mr Andrews replied. "Good blog post, by the way. The feedback is rolling in."

"Thank you, Sir. Talk to you soon."

"Goodbye. Stay safe."

I hung up and turned back to Amna and Ahmad.

"So bad news. My boss had organised extra food and medication to come and help you guys here, but it's been stopped at the border."

To my surprise, neither Ahmad nor Amna looked surprised.

"Of course. Why would they let something good in?"

"This place makes me angrier and angrier by the second!" I aimed a kick at rubble lying about but missed. I settled for stomping my foot instead.

Amna gave me a small smile. "They make me angry too, but you can't allow them to. Because then they win. You have to show them that they cannot make you unhappy, no matter what."

I shook my head. "You amaze me! How are you so positive after everything that has been done to you?"

"Like I say when I met you. I am alive, and I have family. That is all."

I gave her a side hug as we strolled along. It was a couple of days after my last blog post and we were walking around the neighbouring neighbourhoods. They were in just as bad a state as Amna's neighbourhood, with a lot more homeless people. There were little children running around and playing, some old men carrying rubble in their hands and shouting things in Arabic. Ahmad had wandered over to one the men and started talking to him.

"What are they saying?" I asked Amna.

She looked at the old men I was pointing to and squinted, listening carefully.

"Cement for sale. Buy this to build your new shelter," she translated.

My heart sank. I didn't even know what to say.

"We are not allowed to rebuild our houses, actually. We need a pass to do that, and it is always getting denied. We are not even allowed to buy new cement and bricks."

"Really?"

Amna nodded.

"That's awful."

"I know," she sighed.

I walked around and took a few pictures before going back to her. She had sat down on a cement block and was eyeing Ahmad with a small smile. He had moved on from the old men and was laughing around with a couple of children.

I sat down next to her. "So what's your deal with him? Is he your boyfriend?"

Amna's face went a little pink at my words. "Oh, no. He is not. Not really. We were to be married last year, but then the bomb hit our area and my grandparents died. They were taking care of me. So when they died, we didn't ever find their bodies and marriage was no longer on my mind. I was alone, and had to try to survive by myself..." She trailed off into silence, her gaze lost in the air.

I clasped her hands into mine and squeezed. "If you don't mind me asking, what-what happened to your parents?"

Amna was silent for so long, I thought maybe she was politely ignoring my question.