Roughly translated, her story is this:
"I'm a little girl from Gaza, which has been blockaded for 8 months. Before the siege, my mother and grandma traveled to egypt so my grandma could have an operation. My mom promised she would only be gone for a few days, and told me to look after my siblings, since I'm the oldest among them. So my siblings and I remained with my dad, my mother and grandma left, and the siege began. And instead of counting the days until our mother would return, we started counting weeks and months, but we were all patient, knowing that sooner or later it would be over.
But time passed and I went through things I'll never forget. I was afraid of the dark, but my father told me that the electricity would be going out a lot, and that I would have to be brave so my younger siblings would not get scared. When the electricity would go out, I would be terrified, but I would act brave in front of my siblings and tell them that candles were beautiful.
We were patient about the power shortages. When my siblings would cry out of hunger, and I would be as hungry as they were, but I would sing to them and tell them to be patient, and tell them that daddy will come home in a bit, and he'd bring food with him. Somedays he'd bring some bread home, and we would be the happiest people in the world. Other days he would come home with nothing, and he'd appease my siblings by telling them stories until they fell asleep.
Everytime we heard the sound of a plane we would hide, in the closet, because we wouldn't know whether it would bomb our house, or our neighbors house, or even our street. We didnt know how many people would die this time.
And I was patient while I was saying goodbye to my siblings when they went to school, not knowing if I would ever see them again. And I would have to stay home because I couldn't leave my baby sister alone.
We were patient while watching our neighbor die because there was no medicine for her to take because of the siege.
We were patient as we stood with the protesters at the border with egypt, rafah; and when the border was breached, I entered egypt with all the other people that did, and I ran into my mothers arms.
This is my story, the story of a population that was kept from freedom even on its land. This is our freedom, freedom in a prison.
But we are still standing, with your prayers and your support, and I ask you to join your voice with ours and say NO to the siege, NO to occupation, and YES to freedom."