In a quiet, modest office nestled inside a bustling UNRWA base in Gaza, the air was thick with a sense of impending change. Files and boxes lined the walls, waiting to be packed, and staff bustled around, completing what felt like both a farewell and a final rush of preparation. The news had arrived that morning: all UNRWA operations on Israeli territory and areas under Israel’s control, including Gaza, would cease within 90 days.
For Amal, a seasoned worker at the base, the announcement had not come as a complete surprise. The whispers of closures had lingered for weeks. But now, with the official decision, everything became real. The agency’s responsibility for humanitarian aid—its lifeblood in Gaza for decades—would soon come to a halt. Supplies, once allocated freely, were now scrutinized and rationed with a new caution. Any large order required permission, a final stamp on what would be one of the last few deliveries.
Amal’s mind wandered to the UN survey she had filled out that morning. The survey had asked about her plans once the base shut down. The questions were brief but weighty: What would she do once her work here was finished? Some of her colleagues, she knew, were planning to follow orders and withdraw. Others contemplated leaving the UN altogether, hoping to find a place within Gaza to continue their work. As she glanced around the room, she noticed the mixture of emotions among her coworkers—some looked troubled, others uncertain, and a few almost relieved.
Yet Amal felt a different pull. Unlike many of her colleagues, she had lived with a sense of distance here, a certain solitude. For years, she’d felt the cold glances from the locals who viewed her as an outsider. But she understood those stares. As an aid worker, she represented an organization tied to the international system, one that did not fully belong to Gaza. She longed to bridge that gap.
When she completed her survey, Amal had chosen to retire from the UN, but her plans didn’t stop there. For her, this wasn’t an end; it was a beginning. She wanted to live in Gaza—not as an outsider but as a resident, a neighbor. Free from the restrictions of international directives, she envisioned a future where she could work with the community on her own terms.
“I’ll stay here,” she murmured, almost to herself, but loud enough that a coworker glanced her way. She smiled softly, her eyes steady with conviction. “When this base closes, I’ll become part of this place, not just an observer. Then, seeking peace will be my responsibility, my burden to bear—not the UN’s.”
For Amal, the countdown to the closure of the base was more than a clock ticking down to a final day at work. It was the start of a journey, a new chapter that no law or mandate could define.
All names of people and organizations appearing in this story are pseudonyms.
Israel’s parliament votes to ban UNRWA, the UN’s Palestine aid agency
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