“I Feel Like a Superhero.” Hope Lives Amid Gaza’s Rubble.

Opinion|“I Feel Like a Superhero.” Hope Lives Amid Gaza’s Rubble.

During the war in Gaza, a place called Taqat in Deir al Balah became a lifeline for me.

Taqat, which means “energies” in Arabic, is a workspace with rare reliable internet and electricity — powered by solar panels — that was started amid the chaos of the war for freelancers and students. It offered something that felt almost impossible during those times: productivity and purpose.

I started working there as a manager for software projects, collaborating with others who were just as determined to keep moving forward. It was incredible to see how, even in the hardest conditions, people found ways to stay useful, to keep creating and to hold on to hope. Taqat reminded me that even in the most difficult circumstances, we have the power to build something meaningful.

The idea that life can be more than sheer survival is part of the fragile sense of hope that the recent cease-fire has brought to us in Gaza. After weeks of relentless Israeli bombing, the silence feels surreal, almost like a dream we’re too afraid to trust.

Yet the destruction around us is overwhelming. Entire neighborhoods were turned to rubble, mass graves were filled with loved ones and countless families have been left with nothing but grief. The huge number of dead and wounded is almost impossible to comprehend. Rebuilding will take years, maybe decades, if Israel allows it.

But beyond the physical damage, there’s another challenge we now face: confronting the emotional trauma of such a catastrophe.

During more than a year of war, we in Gaza developed a kind of psychological defense mechanism, pushing hope away. Hope was dangerous because it could so easily be shattered. Nor was there room for feelings when our lives revolved around the search for basic necessities like finding food and water, scavenging for wood to cook food and lighting fires to stay warm. We became numb as a way to protect ourselves.