Gaza, My True Home: A Palestine refugee’s story of hope and return
By Amjad Shabat
Amjad Shabat, a former freelance content producer for UNRWA USA, reported from Gaza before she was evacuated in 2024. Now residing in Texas with her husband and young daughter, she contributes as a guest writer for the Voices of UNRWA blog. Through her writing, she reflects on her identity as a refugee and her longing to return home.
When I bought my apartment in Gaza, my beloved mother gifted me a Palestinian tapestry with the words No Place Like Home. She had stitched it decades ago, around the time she and my father got married. The embroidery depicts a house, an olive tree, and roses, intricately woven in vibrant shades of green, red, and yellow.
Palestinian embroidery, known as tatreez falahi, is a cross stitch pattern that was practiced by village women. After the 1948 Nakba, it became an important symbol that reflects the rich culture of the Palestinian people. I grew up watching my mother and grandmother weaving tatreez falahi to express their belonging to their village, Al-Sawafir al-sharqiya, which was destroyed during the Nakba.
The phrase “no place like home” has echoed a lot in my family. I remember my late father saying it the moment he stepped through the door after a long day at work. To keep the tradition, I hung the tapestry at the entrance of my apartment. This simple phrase is deeply rooted in my consciousness now. No matter where I live, if I’m away from Palestine, I can't feel home.
As refugees, our perspective of home is complicated. We move around while remembering our homes are temporary, until we return back to our rightful, ancestral land. And yet, despite its challenges, life as a refugee has taught me resilience and profoundly shaped my identity.
Growing up in Gaza’s Jabalia refugee camp, I remember the winters were the most difficult. Our metal-ceiling houses and narrow streets used to sink and float each time it rained. We never had a playground to play in. Our most joyful games took place in the alleys. Gaza has been under an illegal blockade since 2007, and at one point early on in the siege, our resources were so limited that we could not even get paper or pencils to write down our lessons.
I went to UNRWA schools where classes were crowded. This pushed me to work hard so I could stand out. My passion for writing emerged, and with the encouragement of my UNRWA teachers, I joined storytelling competitions across elementary schools in Jabalia. I felt proud of myself as I heard my classmates’ applause after winning first and second place. Their little hands clapping is a memory I cherish as the true sound and image of success.
Appreciating the value of education is a core concept in our lives as Palestinians and as refugees. My parents always told me that education would lead us toward a better future—a lesson I now strive to pass on to my own young daughter. Through education, our generation is able to tell our narrative in different languages, playing a major role in the growing global solidarity movement for Palestine.
I learned other lessons watching my people find creative solutions to life under siege. I admired the countless female nurses and doctors who treated injuries with scared and shaky hands under fire. In devastating conditions, UNRWA workers continued their efforts to deliver life-saving aid while trying to survive themselves. They arrived at our makeshift tents and camps under the continuous massive bombings to deliver the only food available. My daughter, who was two and a half years old at the time, would have an egg every three days delivered by UNRWA. During these days, this single egg was her only source of protein.
What also left a strong impression on me were the female journalists and UNRWA humanitarian workers—women who, while carrying the weight of their roles as mothers surviving a military assault— prepare and pack their children's meals before heading out to document what experts know to be a genocide or deliver life-saving UNRWA aid. They balanced motherhood with the immense responsibility of helping others, all while trying to survive the same brutal conditions and stay strong for their children.
When displaced people started to shelter in UNRWA schools after October 2023, teachers from these schools took the initiative to help distribute food, water, and medicine. I visited one school where the headmaster herself was sheltering along with her family. She not only cared for her own family, but for hundreds of other families at the school. Despite being displaced and terrified, she felt that it was her responsibility to keep giving back to her community.
Like the headmaster, I wanted to use my skills to help my people and be around my family, but Israel’s genocidal war forced me to leave so I could save my daughter’s life and future. As I was evacuated and on the Egyptian side of Rafah Crossing, I took a moment to look back at Gaza. I waved goodbye and thought, “until we meet again, home”.
I know one day I will return to Gaza—where I was born and grew up. Gaza is more than a place on a map; it is where my identity was shaped, where I fell in love, and where I once dreamed of a home overlooking the endless blue of the Mediterranean sea.
My hope of returning home is fueled by the powerful images of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians making their way back to their beloved Gaza City in the north after 16 months of displacement. For the first time in our modern history and collective memory, we [Palestinians] are returning. Gaza is a land of resilience, where its people rise against injustice and occupation—steadfast in their struggle until justice and freedom are won.
Although I live in Texas these days, Palestine remains the heart of my existence. No matter how many miles separate me from my homeland, my connection never fades. I stay rooted through celebrating our beautiful Palestinian culture, advocating for and fundraising on behalf of Palestine refugees with UNRWA USA, and raising my child with a deep awareness and appreciation of her Palestinian identity.
I will never miss an opportunity to instill hope in my family and friends, believing that injustice will end, and the sun of freedom will rise—so long as we continue to demand it.
You can take action for Palestine refugees! Join Amjad in demanding US government funding be restored to UNRWA by contacting your reps and protect humanitarian aid for refugees who need it most. Or make a donation to support UNRWA’s operations on the ground in the Gaza Strip and West Bank, including East Jerusalem.