Terwijl Dr. Asma zwanger is van een tweeling, werkt ze op de spoedeisende hulp waar ze haar specialisatie tot chirurg volgt. In haar werk als chirurg in opleiding ziet ze de ergste excessen van het Israëlische geweld. Datzelfde geldt voor haar echtgenoot, Dr. Mohammed, die als forensisch arts de bruutste doodsoorzaken tegenkomt.

“I wanted to study medicine because it stands at the ultimate intersection of human vulnerability and intellectual rigor. My passion for this profession is not merely a fondness for science; it is an unwavering covenant to transform complex knowledge into tangible relief. The dedication I bring is born from the understanding that every diagnosis is a puzzle that demands meticulous attention, and every treatment plan carries immense consequence. To master the ever-evolving complexities of the human body and translate that mastery into a moment of healing—that is the highest professional calling I can imagine.

My love for patients comes from the profound recognition of their innate value, irrespective of their condition. When I think of my patients, I feel an enormous sense of privilege—the privilege of being invited into their most vulnerable moments, seeing past the ailment to the person, the parent, the friend who is trusting me with their future. This trust is what fuels my work ethic. It drives me to be present, to listen without judgment, and to advocate fiercely for their optimal outcome.

For me, the field of medicine means far more than a career; it is a lifelong commitment to service. It is the diligence of working tirelessly to restore not just physical health, but hope, dignity, and potential. It means waking up every day ready to learn more, push harder, and provide the best care possible because, at its core, medicine is the ultimate promise: a dedicated hand reaching out to steady another, offering expertise, compassion, and an unwavering belief in their capacity to recover and thrive.”

Dr. Mahmoud is een gerenommeerde arts en groot medisch talent op de spoedeisende hulp van twee verschillende ziekenhuizen. 

“The Doctor — A Dream Born from a Toy and Reborn in a Tent of Hope

In that tent, I was no longer just a doctor. I was a source of comfort, a listener, a healer, and sometimes the only light people could see in their darkest hours.”

Yes — this is who I am.
A doctor whose dream began with a simple toy,
shaped by hardship,
strengthened by compassion,
and reborn in a tent of hope —
serving his people when the world turned away.

Teamleider van de spoedeisende hulp en seniorarts in een van de belangrijkste nog-semi functionerende ziekenhuizen in Gaza. 

“My love for medicine began in childhood. I was always fascinated by the way doctors healed and helped those in need. But as I grew older, that curiosity deepened into something more meaningful. I began to understand what it truly means to be ill—to be at your weakest, most vulnerable point, longing for someone to ease your pain. That realization shaped a quiet but growing conviction within me: I wanted to be that person who brings comfort in the darkest moments.

Today, I work as an emergency physician in one of the busiest hospitals in the region. I face chaos, trauma, and tragedy every single day—but also resilience, recovery, and hope. I treat dozens of injuries daily, often under intense pressure, and have the honor of saving lives on the frontlines. The impact of that is indescribable. It’s humbling, transformative, and deeply human.

Medicine is no longer just a career—it’s a calling. And every shift reminds me why I chose this path: to serve, to heal, and to stand beside people when they need it most.”

Onlangs is Yahia afgestudeerd als arts. Hij werkt op vrijwillige basis in een ziekenhuis in Gaza, runt een veldhospitaal en werkt aan het opzetten van een nieuw tentenkamp met voorzieningen. 

“I wanted to study medicine because I could not imagine myself standing aside when people were in pain. From a young age, I felt a calling every time I saw someone sick, injured, or even just in need of comfort. It was as if their suffering spoke directly to me, asking me to respond.

Medicine, to me, is a way to restore dignity in the middle of chaos. It is a way to give people back a sense of safety when everything else is collapsing. That is why I studied medicine: because I believe every life deserves care, every wound deserves healing, and every patient deserves to be seen and loved.” 

Arts op spoedeisende hulp op vrijwillige basis in een ziekenhuis in Centraal-Gaza. Hij doet de specialisatie tot chirurg.

“I wanted to study medicine because…

Since childhood, I have always felt drawn to the pain of others not out of sadness, but out of a deep desire to heal. I remember watching my father care for people in our community with kindness and patience, and I wanted to carry that same light forward.

For me, medicine is not just a profession; it is a moral duty and a form of worship. Each patient I meet reminds me of how sacred life truly is fragile, yet immeasurably precious. When I treat a wounded child, an elderly man gasping for air, or a mother clinging to hope, I feel an unexplainable connection as if I am not only treating the body but also protecting the story of a soul.

In Gaza, medicine carries a meaning far deeper than textbooks can describe. It is not merely about diagnosis or treatment; it is about standing between life and death, often with trembling hands but a steady heart. It means offering hope in the darkest hours, when even hope itself seems to fade.

This path has taught me resilience, patience, and compassion. It has shown me the beauty of service and the strength found in humanity’s most fragile moments. Despite exhaustion, danger, and loss, I have learned that every act of healing no matter how small is a victory of life over despair.

I remain proud to be a doctor, not because of the title, but because it allows me to be a voice of mercy in a world that too often forgets what mercy means.”