It’s 7am. My alarm rings and I get myself ready, just as I used to in the days when I would drink a cup of mint tea and eat a falafel sandwich before heading to university with friends.
Now, the alarm signals that it’s time for me to go out to sea again. Amid the deadly famine in Gaza, survival has replaced study. I have gone from an English translation student chasing his dreams to a fisherman trying desperately to feed his starved family.
Every morning for almost a month now, I wake and head out on the water. In doing so, I am putting myself in severe danger; the Israeli military declared Gaza’s waters a “no-go zone” earlier this year, banning all fishing, swimming, and other sea access.
