{"id":21716,"date":"2026-04-10T09:26:48","date_gmt":"2026-04-10T09:26:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vivasalud.be\/?p=21716"},"modified":"2026-04-14T10:00:24","modified_gmt":"2026-04-14T10:00:24","slug":"its-the-least-i-can-do-for-my-people","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.vivasalud.be\/en\/blog\/2026\/04\/10\/cest-le-moins-que-je-puisse-faire-pour-mon-peuple\/","title":{"rendered":"\"It's the least I can do for my people\""},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Sama Jaber on her work for AWDA<\/a> from Belgium<\/em>. Interview by Viva Salud, March 2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Based in Belgium, Sama acts as the link between the outside world and the team on the ground \u2014 a team that continues to work in extreme conditions. We spoke to her about AWDA\u2019s work, the current situation in Gaza, and what international solidarity means in practical terms.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

From volunteer to international spokesperson<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Sama first worked for AWDA in 2022, whilst she was still living in Gaza, as a volunteer project co-ordinator and media co-ordinator. When the genocide began, she felt compelled to get involved again, despite the distance. \u00abIt\u2019s the least I can do for my people,\u00bb she says.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>
\n

Based in Belgium, she translates AWDA\u2019s materials from Arabic into English<\/strong>: emergency appeals, video messages, project documents. She also acts as a point of contact between Gaza and the outside world, as the team on the ground cannot always publish or communicate for themselves due to a lack of internet and electricity. \u00abSometimes they just send me a message. Because I have internet here, I can publish what they want.\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She also maintains contact with donors and partner organisations, including Viva Salud, which she has visited. Her role is wide-ranging and ongoing: there is no set timetable when a hospital is attacked at night or when an emergency appeal needs to be issued.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

AWDA: much more than just a hospital<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For many people in Gaza, AWDA is synonymous with healthcare, but the organisation does far more than that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before the genocide, AWDA had two hospitals and thirteen centres \u2014 six medical centres and seven community centres. The largest hospital, Nuseirat in the centre of the Gaza Strip, was expanded through the construction of a field hospital, increasing its capacity from 17 to 130 emergency beds, with plans for further expansion to 200.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

In the north of Gaza, where all hospitals have been destroyed or are inaccessible, AWDA is trying to fill the gap in medical care through nine primary care and community centres, with plans to expand to twelve. \u00ab\u00a0People are returning to their neighbourhood. Not to their home \u2014 their home no longer exists. They pitch a tent on the rubble. They need care, but have to walk kilometres to find it.<\/em>\u00ab\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As well as medical care, AWDA also provides psychosocial support for children and women<\/strong>, training for women awaiting minor surgical procedures that are no longer carried out anywhere, so that they can carry them out themselves, education <\/strong>through a project with Relief International<\/a> which currently serves 400 students, and will soon also provide shelter for children without parents. \u00ab\u00a0They are not just numbers. They are people with a story and with needs. We listen first, then we look for what really helps; sometimes that\u2019s drawing or playing, sometimes it\u2019s a tent or food<\/em>.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n

And then there is the radio project:<\/strong> a new initiative for 2026 through which AWDA aims to provide free medical advice, educational programmes and psychosocial support via radio \u2014 so that people can access information and care even from their tents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The situation today: a ceasefire solves nothing<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

There is officially a ceasefire, but at AWDA\u2019s hospital, there is little sign of it. Wounded people continue to arrive \u2014 people who were shot whilst returning home, people injured in a fresh attack, or people injured when their tent collapsed in the rain and wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The famine is still very much a reality. Israel only allows crisps, chocolate and fizzy drinks in \u2014 no nutritious food. Children suffering from malnutrition are still being admitted to hospital. People drink water without knowing whether it is safe \u2014 it is the only water available. Kidney disease is a growing problem. Women cook over open fires, gather wood from the street, and suffer burns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Medical equipment and surgical supplies are barely making it through. What does arrive comes in sporadically and only via international organisations such as the WHO. Specialist care for wounds that sometimes require dressing changes up to twelve times a day \u2013 for ophthalmology, dermatology and diabetes \u2013 is virtually non-existent.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Working under extreme pressure: on trauma and perseverance<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

How do AWDA\u2019s staff keep going? Sama pauses to think. \u00ab\u00a0As a Palestinian, you know you can\u2019t change the reality you\u2019re facing at that moment. Your nervous system gets used to the pressure. You don\u2019t really realise what\u2019s happening to you, what you\u2019re seeing \u2014 as long as you carry on working<\/em>.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She talks about a doctor from Valencia who worked in Gaza during the genocide. He hardly ever speaks of it anymore. It is a trauma. But the doctors in Gaza themselves have been working for three years without stopping. Only now, now that there is a lull, are some beginning to realise what they have been through. \u00ab\u00a0Suddenly they start to miss people. They miss home. Their nervous system was, in a way, on standby. But there was no other choice. Many doctors were wounded, killed or arrested. There simply aren\u2019t enough of them left.<\/em>\u00ab\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following the genocide, AWDA\u2019s staff will themselves require psychosocial support and medical teams capable of carrying out specialised procedures that have been postponed for far too long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

What international solidarity means<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Sama is clear about what she asks of people outside Gaza. Not in vague terms, but in concrete terms:<\/p>\n\n\n\n