Between Silence and Words: Baraa Qandeel

 

Between Silence and Words: Baraa Qandeel

“I’ve always found this strong belonging to words and language in me,” she begins softly, her voice carrying both fragility and conviction. “I chose to be a writer since high school. Writing became my most loyal friend and my favorite outlet.”

Bara'a is not just attached to one role. She is a writer, a poet, a translator, and a professional in digital marketing and business development. Yet, at her core, she says, “I am someone who chose words as my home.”

She started by writing personal reflections and short stories, before moving to poetry three years ago. Today, she also translates literature, including her own work. But the war reshaped her relationship with writing. “There were months when I felt so helpless and speechless that I couldn’t write even one word,” she admits. “And other times where I would pour words onto paper and ‘aggressively’ write poems.”

Writing in War

Writing in Gaza is no ordinary act. It is, as she puts it, “a huge responsibility because writers tell stories and convey messages of their own people.” She speaks of the burden: of trying to capture both her people’s suffering and her own. The heaviness sometimes leaves her with unfinished pages, drafts that remain locked in a notebook. “Maybe one day I’ll gather my courage and finish them all to see the light,” she says.

Every poem, every line, is a struggle. “Every piece of writing was a challenge in itself,” she reflects. But despite the difficulty, she pushes forward, reminding herself of why she writes: “I have been gifted with certain abilities to use them for good, especially my people’s good.”

What keeps her going is not only duty, but also solidarity. “I have been showered by love and support from friends inside and outside of Gaza. This gives me a huge push forward every time.”

Impact and Resonance

Her writing now travels across languages and borders. Whether in published poems or social media posts, her words amplify Gaza’s voice. “Writing gave me and my people the platform to amplify our voices. People resonated, got moved, shared, and learned things about Gaza’s situation through my writing,” she explains.

She does not measure pride in quantity or fame, but in sincerity. “I’m proud of every piece because they are all genuine, and they inspired people outside Gaza to speak up.”

Living, Coping, Enduring

Balancing work and life in a warzone is almost impossible. She admits openly, “It’s not easy, and I don’t manage to do it all the time. I just try to give my best every day and to stay positive and hopeful of better days to come.”

Her coping strategies are both intimate and deliberate. “I started therapy months ago, and it’s one of the main factors that help me cope,” she shares. She journals, makes art, walks alone, or sits silently on the balcony to breathe and reflect.

But being a woman in Gaza adds another layer of struggle. She lives with PCOS, a condition that makes her daily life harder, especially under siege. “This means tougher cycles, constant bloating, unstable hormones, and in war -without good nutrition or the ability to exercise- it drains my energy, my focus, and my sense of my own body. Still, I try to be compassionate towards myself, not to push too hard on days I can’t perform.”

Her perspective as a woman shapes her writing. “I always write from the perspective of being a woman, and I take into consideration other women as well. It made my writing more genuine and vulnerable, yet real and empowering.”

Rage and Hope

When asked about her message to women, her tone shifts from weary to resolute: “Stay strong. I believe you are capable of everything you put your mind on. Palestinian women, especially Gazans, are powerful and inspiring. Take care of yourselves, so you can take care of your community. I’ll be supporting you and rooting for you.”

Her hopes for the future remain personal and collective at once. She dreams of pursuing postgraduate studies in Malaysia, but above all, she longs for Gaza to heal. “I hope the war will stop, and for the city and its people to stand on their feet again.”

If given the world’s attention for a single minute, she does not hesitate: “I feel rage towards all the people who chose to disconnect and remain bystanders. I will never forgive any country and any person who chose silence over defending what’s right. Most of you failed us.”

But even in anger, she holds space for gratitude. “I won’t let their cowardness make me forget the free souls who have been supporting our cause from the very beginning. Those who keep speaking up will never be forgotten.”