Middle East The day and a half in which Gaza was completely cut off

For a day and a half, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip have been without internet or telephone connections, vital for knowing where Israel's bombings are taking place, calling rescue services and staying in touch with their relatives in other parts of the enclave

Middle East The day and a half in which Gaza was completely cut off

For a day and a half, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip have been without internet or telephone connections, vital for knowing where Israel's bombings are taking place, calling rescue services and staying in touch with their relatives in other parts of the enclave. under the control of the Islamist group Hamas.

Confusion and anguish over what could be happening expanded from Friday night until early Sunday in Gaza after the internet and mobile and landline telephony were cut off, which has coincided with the expansion of operations ground attacks of the Israeli Army and the intensification of bombings.

"We feared that the worst was going to happen, something big, horrible," Amhat Abdalá, a resident of Rafah, in the south of Gaza, with four children, told EFE, remembering the first thing they felt when they found themselves incommunicado on Friday night. .

Abdullah explained that he normally finds out the news that happens in the Strip through his cell phone, and that this weekend he was unable to speak with his relatives who remain in Gaza City due to the telecommunications cutoff.

"We imagined that at any moment they would come here to kill us," said this resident of Rafah, in the south of the Strip.

Since last October 7, Israel has been carrying out bombings, and since Friday an expansion of ground operations, which has caused more than 8,000 deaths and more than 20,000 wounded in the Palestinian Strip, in retaliation for the Hamas attack on the ground. Israeli, which left 1,400 dead, more than 5,400 injured and more than 200 kidnapped.

The fear of what could happen while they were incommunicado was followed by joy when connections were reestablished early on Sunday.

"We jump and shout with joy, we shout 'we are connected again', we are very happy," said Abdalá, for whom it is essential, as for the rest of Gazans, to know what is happening near his family, what is happening in your building. "No one is safe in Gaza," he acknowledged, "but being connected makes us feel safe."

Mahmud, a paramedic who prefers to hide his real name for security reasons, was caught on board an ambulance by the communications cut-off.

"The connection between the main station and the ambulance reception was cut, we were near a group of homes," said this health worker.

It is the first time that something like this has happened to him, but he and his companions looked for a way to continue rescuing the wounded, guided by the noise of the bombings.

"When we heard bombings in an area we drove there because we knew there would be injuries, although the attacks are so intense that sometimes we cannot go through the destruction of the streets," he explained to EFE.

He recalled that this week the Gaza Ministry of Health announced the collapse of the health system in the Strip due to bombings and lack of fuel.

In fact, due to the shortage of fuel, they cannot travel in the ambulance to very far places. For this reason, "there are many people who go to hospitals on their own or have their own family take them."

The finishing touch to this situation has been the interruption of the internet and telephone services, since, according to this paramedic, there have been a large number of victims who have not been able to obtain care during this weekend.

Fearing what could happen when they were incommunicado, Mohamed Abu Taha and his wife decided not to leave their house this weekend.

"We were together all the time because we were afraid," Abu Taha recalled, "we thought the Israelis would come for us.

As soon as communications returned this Sunday, the first thing they did was call their family who lives in another city.

Mahmoud Mohamed, a displaced person in Rafah, has felt the interruption of connections as if a part of his body had been cut off.

"We couldn't communicate with other families or other friends displaced from Beit Hanun, like us, nor with the rest of the world," lamented Mohamed, who pointed out that what they were missing now was having to communicate with the rest of the people by shouting. .

Although it is easy to fall into despair in Gaza these days, Mohamed just wants the war to end and return to normal life. "We are patient," he said.