She was brewing tea, a process she mastered long time ago. Adding sugar, boiling water, adding tea and then mint. She brooded over what have become her “present”. Fatimah was not very content with how her life turned to be. Living in a modest house in Gaza Camp made her less excited about life. In the Camp, houses and shops are built from brick and cement.The buildings could tell stories only from their old and cracked facades. Children took a fancy to streets and are now considered their favorite playing areas. Some men were digging in the streets, others were constructing a saloon for ladies, the “Imam” called for Dohr prayer. Hurriedly, men started lining up in the mosque for the prayer. In the Camp, it was a norm that women prepare lunch and that young girls help them with both setting the table and cleaning the dishes. Fatimah made the tea and then joined the rest of the family for lunch. They had lunch silently because her father thinks it is a disgusting habit to talk while eating. After lunch, her father sat to watch television and drink tea and complain about the new laws imposed by the government to raise prices. r
Fatimah went to her room and closed the door. Silence fell on the room. She slept.