In Gucci sandals and bubble jacket, Zaki stands outside the basement flat. The snow is falling, and the Christmas lights are starting to appear in the quiet neighborhood of Mortensrud in Oslo. He takes a cigarette. There have been many of them since he returned from Gaza last week. In 2022, the electricity bill was too high in Greenland. That’s why Zaki and Rola moved to Mortensrud. In 2022, the electricity bill was too high in Greenland. That’s why Zaki and Rola moved to Mortensrud. Inside the living room, the volume on the TV is turned up. Live broadcast from the transition between Gaza and Egypt. Zaki and his wife Rola were waiting there just over a week ago. A picture from Gaza City, where Zaki was born, buzzes and moves on the screen. – I’m sorry that the heating cables no longer work. The repairman is coming, he says as he walks into the kitchen. Life in Norway does not stop even if you are sitting in the middle of the rain of bombs in a completely different country. Israel turned off both electricity and internet in the Gaza Strip. During the short periods with slow internet, he tried to pay his rent in DNB’s online bank. – It took many hours, but it worked in the end. The TV shows images from Gaza around the clock. The TV shows images from Gaza around the clock. He makes coffee for us, and turns down the volume on the TV. Zaki and Rola were some of the first Norwegian citizens to cross the border into Egypt. At Gardermoen, they were met by Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre. Norway has evacuated around 220 people from Gaza since 7 October. After 41 days at war, Zaki cannot sleep. Not even in his own bed in the quiet and peaceful basement at Mortensrud. – I feel safe, I do it, but I’m not happy. It’s chaos in here, he says, clutching his chest. One more cigarette. He bought them at Taxfree at the airport in Cairo. – Smoking. Smoking. Smoking. – I only hurt myself. He has been home for a little over a week. The first thing he did when he came in the door was sit down in front of the TV. He sits on the green sofa most of the night. He follows which building is bombed, and tries to keep in touch with the family there. – My head is not here, it is in Gaza. I call my sisters all the time. I cried and cried. Every time he says Palestine, he corrects himself. “I mean Gaza”. Zaki and Rola haven’t cooked dinner since they got home. They have a large set of nuts and fruit, maybe some bread food. That is what they achieve, he says. The days together stand still. After a while they gave each other a hug. They had barely done that since 7 October. Light moves faster than sound. – When I saw the light from the rocket, I knew it wasn’t my turn. If you hear the sound first, you are in bad shape. – I hope I manage to forget what I have experienced. He knows verbatim what Israel said on the day they had to evacuate their apartment in Gaza City, and exactly what message they received from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. But what feelings he is left with, he cannot put into words. – Mix. Up and down. Does it fit into the reportage? You want me to say I’m happy, but I’m not. He thinks he is being misunderstood. But in Norway at least he avoided lying, he says. – I have received that value here. I am honest. In Gaza you have to lie to survive. You can’t say what you want there. Even though he is a Norwegian citizen, and never wants to return to Gaza, he is first and foremost a Palestinian, he says. Even though he is a Norwegian citizen, and never wants to return to Gaza, he is first and foremost a Palestinian, he says. This is not an ordinary war They encountered the biting Nannestad cold when they landed at Gardermoen on 18 November. In recent days, he has been in meetings with Nav and the GP. He was on sick leave for a few more weeks. At home, he never turns off the light. The curtains are opaque and always drawn. The darkness worries him. He reminds me of the night in Gaza. Bomb rain, shaking, windows shattering, the smoke and dust. The smell of dynamite. He has experienced that before. Zaki likes to take the subway into Oslo city center every day. Zaki likes to take the subway into Oslo city center every day. In 2008, Zaki and his family came to Norway for the first time. Zaki said that he worked for the UN in the Gaza Strip. There he mapped Hamas’s human rights violations. They didn’t like that. He was kidnapped and tortured, according to himself. – Both mentally and physically. They painted a ladder on the wall and asked me to climb it. I had to pretend I was a baby, he says. He was therefore allowed to come to Norway as a political refugee. But after a few years, they moved back to Gaza. Zaki had not found a job in Norway, and it was quieter there anyway, he says. But it didn’t last long. During Ramadan in 2014, Zaki went to the kiosk on one of the street corners in Gaza City to buy two cigarettes. One more after sunset. One before the sun rises. They are not allowed to smoke in the Gaza Strip. – People think I’m weird when I go out to smoke there, he says. Photo: Alf Simensen / news Just then Hamas sent a rocket at Israel, and Israel responded quickly afterwards. Right around the corner of the building, a rocket hit. About ten meters from him. He cannot describe the sound. During 51 summer days, 2,251 Palestinians and 72 Israelis lost their lives. – But the war in 2014 was a silly war compared to this one. We have to repeat the question several times. Zaki is almost deaf in his right ear after the rocket that time. Rice, flour and macaroni In September this year, he and his wife traveled to Gaza again to visit their family. It was calmer in Gaza now, they thought. In the first days after 7 October, he thought that the attack would be like many times before. They bought dry goods, as they always did. Rice, flour and macaroni. Back in Gaza to meet family and friends they haven’t seen for many years. He covers his eyes while he talks. Pinch them tightly and lean your head back. The thoughts go straight back to Gaza. He stops and tells: – On the second day I understood that this was no ordinary war. They hit civilians without warning. Born’s body parts. The food queues. The nephew he buried in his mother’s old grave. The image buzzes in your head. He has seen too much. – Chaos. It is only in this way that he manages to portray it. Zaki and the family had to open his mother’s grave in order to bury his nephew. Zaki and the family had to open his mother’s grave in order to bury his nephew. If you hear the sound first, you’re in trouble He has to leave the house. Out in the winter darkness. Then he recognizes the fear. He takes the subway to Oslo S. He does that almost every day, either to go to work or to meet friends at Cafe Provence. 20 minutes on the subway is not like before. – If I hear the sound of a plane, I’m right back in Gaza. I think it’s F-16 and can’t tell them apart. He is a tall man who walks quickly and likes to show the way. He has barely taken off his woolen socks and bubble jacket since he came back this time. He hasn’t struggled with the cold before, but now it’s different. Hua is on, but he only covers one ear, otherwise he can’t hear us. He calls his sister in Gaza on Whatsapp. In Gaza it was closer to thirty degrees. The weeks before the war broke out were good. Zaki and Rola were at the funfair with their nieces, met old colleagues, were at a wedding party and picked ripe fruit with old veins. – We sat up and flirted all night until the sun came up. It was lovely. Pictures from the days before the war broke out are difficult to look back on. He shows a picture of his veins. They enjoy the sun by the pool. Photo: Alf Simensen – He, he, and he is dead now. Minna is devastated. A few days before 7 October he bathed in the sea. The sunset was pink. Back in Oslo, he has to meet an ear-nose-throat specialist. He lost one right apparatus in the water, and could not get the other to work again. But maybe it was just as well. – The sound of the bombing was terribly loud. Think about those who listen well. – Why should we pray? At Café Provence in Torggata, he takes his lunch break every day. He works as a pest technician and often has assignments in central Oslo. “Zaki”, we hear from the tram stop. – How are you doing? Says a man in Arabic. – How are you?, asks an acquaintance Zaki meets at the tram stop in Storgata. – How are you?, asks an acquaintance Zaki meets at the tram stop in Storgata. – I have many acquaintances, he says. But few close veins. Most of them are in Gaza. He trembled. It’s a feeling, he says as he darts into the cafe. He ran out of diabetes medicine in the Gaza Strip. Without electricity, you cannot keep the medicine cold, and then it does not work as it should. – I was very bad. Sweaty, shaky, hot and not feeling well. The waiter hands Zaki a piece of cake. He ate the standing. Zaki is one of the regulars at Café Provence and the staff know very well how he wants his coffee. Zaki is one of the regulars at Café Provence and the staff know very well how he wants his coffee. The 46-year-old knows how he wants it. First two sips in the glass. Espresso. He wants to pour the milk himself. After the Friday prayer, many gather here in the tiny cafe. People talk loudly. Photo: Alf Simensen / news Zaki used to pray five times a day. But he hasn’t done that since the war broke out. – There are many who say: “What is happening to us? Why should we pray?”. I don’t say that. Then I get scared. A man with a Palestinian scarf stops outside the window. He makes a heart with his hands, enters the cafe and gives Zaki a hug. – Even though I am an adult, I also need comfort. Mohammed Ahmed comes into the cafe to say hello to Zaki on his way to work. Mohammed Ahmed comes into the cafe to say hello to Zaki on his way to work. All for conscience Palestinian and Ukrainian flags fly outside the Storting. There are demonstrations against the wars here every day now. In a tent are some of those who have just arrived from Gaza itself. They talk about what they have seen and experienced, and what is happening down there now. – Always. Nobody talks about anything else. Zaki does not want to think about the future, and does not know how to answer questions about it. – How can I be happy again? My family is in Gaza. Inside the tent, there is an oven where they can warm themselves. The Palestine scarf is tied tightly around the neck of several of them. Eat Palestinian food and sit tight. Not just to keep warm. Although the dark scares him, Zaki has been the night watchman here. He can’t sleep anyway. – Why are you doing this? – Conscience. Nothing happens. But we have to stand with them in Palestine, no, in the Gaza Strip, in order to function on the inside. – and why don’t you say Palestine? – My Palestine no longer exists. Photo: Alf Simensen / news Photo: Alf Simensen / news Hello! Do you or someone you know have a strong story? Feel free to send us tips or suggestions for things we can make!
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After the bombs, a new battle begins – Special
