Afrasianet - Nabil Sununu - Before  the sun rises and the birds chirp, there is no voice louder than the voices of the children of the displacement camp as they assume the roles of mostly new vendors, which is the obligatory passage to open their day and fill endless free time, with the loss of school seats.

They compete in a fake sale of the shark, which costs two shekels each, if available, and they can't actually buy it, and the "fingers of Zainab," known as "milking," which they are proud of and have no money to taste.

This is because the components of the Qarshallah and Zainab's fingers require the Gazan, who needs them in this frost, to search for them as a needle in a haystack, and if he succeeds in finding them, he will probably pay a bride's dowry for their acquisition, while the occupier prevents most of the aid and goods from entering the Gaza Strip.

Nor is the frig innocent, whose vendors hang in the ears of children, even as it fades from the camps due to the high price of sugar, which they "signified" and now hears more about it than they see. Or they fake sell municipal bread, which has also disappeared from displacement camps and markets as flour is scarce and turned into a wish for displaced people exhausted by the torment of the year-long war of genocide.

If their "ambition" increases a little, they assume the character of a lady they used to see baking in the clay oven and now empty-handed, everyone hears the echo of her empty pots, and in winter they miss the heat of her oven, which they were consumed in the summer. When parents and neighbors wake up to their innocent voices, some may rebuke them, others may absorb them, and in both cases they find themselves invited to temporary silence, only to repeat it shortly.

They panic when they hear from afar the sound of a water cart if it is free to collect as many gallons as they can to fill it, and they rush to it, and there is no guarantee that any of them will win a drink of water. With the presence of the hospice, the hungry children are in a race to collect utensils and compete which one will arrive first to get something from cooked pasta or other foods that lack most of its supposed ingredients in the shadow of the war of extermination, and their eyes are on the items that they have been deprived of for so long, perhaps at the forefront of which is a piece of chicken or meat.

If they finish all this, they retrieve or invent toys to play on the sand and perhaps among the empty food cans that have repeatedly injured a number of them.

These include glass balls, which they call "al-Qaloul", football, which inevitably hits the tents of displaced people and falls over the heads of some of them, or the famous girls' game known as "hopscotch". Children enjoy these games or pretend to enjoy them, with limited options.

When a child is enrolled in an educational tent, and many cannot find a seat, he stays there for only two hours amid overcrowding that is difficult for the organizers to keep up with the huge number of displaced children.

If he succeeds in registering for e-learning, he gets lost in providing the necessary means such as laptops, tabs, or even mobile phones and low-speed internet.

If a mother takes some of her busy time to manage the heavy chores of life to educate her children, she often finds them soulless bodies, trying to instill in their stray minds something that they should learn and may fail. In the heart of every child is a picture of a martyr or prisoner whose father or brother may be a first-degree relative or a little farther away,

if not that child himself injured or amputated, with the Ministry of Health recording 44,330 martyrs and 104,933 injured, mostly children and women, since October 7, 2023. Each is poised to be a martyr or injured as rockets rain down on everyone's heads everywhere.

They lose their rights, foremost of which is the right to a decent life and education in their schools overcrowded with displaced people, they get lost in the camps and between their alleys, the war of extermination steals their lives without a horizon to restrain the bloodthirsty occupier.