Gaza blockade destroys hope

SIX months ago the ferocious bombardment on Gaza stopped. While the guns may have fallen silent, the war continues for the children of Gaza.

After the fanfare of donor pledges and grandiose plans to rebuild the devastation that was left after the August 2014 war, I expected to be greeted in Gaza by the sound of reconstruction on my recent visit. Instead, I was confronted by continued scenes of despair.

The walk to what remains of Um Yahya's apartment was precarious. A flattened slab of concrete and strips of wire is now the staircase to the one room that is left for this mother of six children. No running water, no electricity, surrounded by an apocalyptic scene of destruction, she described the struggle of 19 years to build a home for her family, now gone.

Six months on, the so-called Gaza Reconstruction Mechanism means nothing to Um Yahya, who is left waiting in the cold.

Adala is the director of the Right To Live centre, one of the only places for children with disabilities in Gaza.

If anyone demonstrates the resilience of Gazans, it is Adala. She describes the decision to build the centre 20 years ago - through sheer perseverance, Adala secured millions of dollars of international donor funds to build a state-of-the-art centre catering to 700 children.

While she vowed to rebuild extensive damage from drone and helicopter gunship strikes, the challenge is massive - initial estimates suggest more than a $1 million of damage to her centre.

We want to keep helping Um Yahya, the children attending the Right To Live centre and thousands more needing psycho-social help, health assistance, water and sanitation, but until the Israeli blockade is lifted we will only be applying band aids to a gaping wound.

The crippling blockade imposed by Israel means construction materials are entering Gaza at a snail's pace.

While more than 800,000 truckloads of building materials are needed to rebuild homes, schools and hospitals, only 579 such trucks entered Gaza in January. At the current rate of reconstruction, both Adala and Um Yahya could be waiting for decades to see their dreams rebuilt.

Even worse is the impact that the destruction of homes and centres like Right To Live will have on the children of Gaza. After suffering through 52 days of unspeakable violence and trauma, they now have no safe places to return to, many have no homes and their schools are being used as shelters for the thousands who have no homes.

What's more, donors are asking: "What guarantees do we have that whatever we rebuild won't be destroyed again?" It was hard to understand how a centre for children with disabilities could be the victim of Israeli airstrikes.

The war goes on in the form of a blockade that while more insidious than disproportionate bombing, is still devastating.

As I was leaving Gaza I met an old friend from the time I lived there 12 years ago. We swapped stories of our families but, unlike the privileged lives experienced by my children, his had experienced three wars in six years, had never left Gaza and could already recognise that their futures were bleak.

My friend spoke of the horror of realising that he couldn't protect his children during the aerial bombardment. Now he fears the prospect of another war or of losing his children to the violence and despair in Gaza.

This madness must stop - the children of Gaza deserve more than this. The blockade must end: a peaceful future for Palestinians and Israelis cannot be built on the rubble that is left in Gaza.