How I made it from Gaza to Duke and UNC

I was once the unkempt little boy you saw staring at you on the fund-raising pamphlets for refugees. I was born in Rafah, a shanty refugee camp in the Gaza Strip, so it’s hard to imagine that now—at age 28—I am pursuing a graduate degree in the United States. Let me tell you how I made it here.

I grew up in a 200-square-foot house with five siblings. The street was my living room, my study area, and where I played. As a child, I never saw a baseball field, a swimming pool or the cinema.

Despite the disadvantages that come with growing up in Gaza, I was able to realize my potential thanks to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA) – which supports more than 5 million Palestinian refugees throughout the Middle East – providing us with food, health care, education and social services and jobs. Unfortunately, earlier this year, the U.S. government cut funding to the agency by 80 percent, jeopardizing many of the essentials that kept us from abject poverty and despair.

Growing up, I remember the excitement I felt when my father returned home from UNRWA’s Social Service and Supply Center with our family’s monthly assistance package. He would be carrying heavy bags laden with food and medicine, and I would hug his legs until he nearly toppled over, overjoyed by the oil, flour, lentils, rice and sugar that so many take for granted.

Another bright spot in my childhood was my school. For nine years, I attended a school for refugees run by the agency which consisted of a few classrooms built from corrugated metal; it was freezing cold in winter, scorching hot in summer. I studied English and learned computer skills despite not having access to an actual computer. We did not have music or physical education, but we had teachers who cared about us and our development – giving us a strong sense of belonging that so many refugees lack.

My life changed when the agency offered my father a teaching job that came with a handsome salary of $400 a month. Because of that job, my father was able to send me to Al-Azhar University in Gaza City where I studied English. After graduation, I joined 1,800 other Palestinians in applying for the agency’s job program and was one of just 110 to be accepted.

During the 2014 Israel military assault on Gaza, I worked for UNRWA's emergency response program, providing assistance to the injured. After the war ended, international trainers came to Gaza to lead conflict response workshops. One of those trainers took notice of my dedication and hard work recommended I apply for a graduate fellowship in the United States, offering to write a letter of recommendation on my behalf.

I received the Rotary Peace Fellowship, and now I’m living in North Carolina studying Global Studies and International Development through a joint program at the UNC-Chapel Hill and Duke University.

When I look in the mirror, I still see that same unkempt little boy from the shanty camps and cannot forget that I made it this far due to the support of UNRWA. I’m committed to carrying on the type of work I benefited from, to study new ways to support crisis victims, and when possible, to end their suffering.

If the U.S. government does not continue to fund this agency, children and women could starve; young men may lose hope and get caught in a vicious circle of violence; and a whole generation of children could grow up without a formal education. For 5 million people, UNRWA is their only hope to a better life. It certainly was for me.