A teenage girl stares at her roof, hoping it won’t collapse over her head. A young student searches the Internet for photos of libraries around the world, hoping he’ll be able to visit them one day. Another walks around the city, taking notes of all the buildings she dreams of repairing.
These are the stories of young people from Gaza, born under Israeli occupation and blockade. They are people who have endured unspeakable struggles and losses, who keep fighting to be recognised not as numbers, but as human beings with hopes, dreams and lives worth living.
We Are Not Numbers was founded in 2014 to give voice to the youth of Gaza. In this collection, vital, urgent and full of heart, spanning over ten years to the present moment, we gain an unparalleled insight into the past, as well as the current and next generation of Palestinian leaders, artists, scientists and scholars and imagine where we might go from here.
This is a remarkable collection of brief pieces of writing by some of those caught up in the genocide in Gaza. The writings are from 2015, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 202, 2022, and 2023/2024, before and after October the 7th. Some of the writers are now dead, probably more now than when it was published in early 2025. There are dedications to five of the dead in the front of the book. There are short individual pieces and some poetry. The writers are all young, under thirty, many of them in their teens. They write about everyday life: education, family, friends, love, children; the usual stuff of everyday life. However lived under unusual circumstances and under constant threat. One of the editors Ahmed Alnaouq explains it: "I was depressed, it was after the 2014 war, and I lost my brother. I was asked to write about him, and I saw writing as a way to pin down all my emotions. I also wanted to challenge the way the Western media writes about us." Alnaouq also lost twenty one members of his family in 2023. This extract is from Ismail Abu-Aitah: “The next thing I remember is waking up in Shifa hospital (Gaza City). Confused, I asked about Mom, Dad and the rest of my family. The doctors said they were ok, and the relief of knowing they were safe was all that mattered to me: I could handle my own pain. Shrapnel had lacerated my entire body, and I had suffered a severe concussion. The doctors took X-rays, cleaned and stitched my wounds, and put me to bed for rest. Meanwhile, I briefly saw my third brother, Mahmood, who was also hospitalised for treatment. He was discharged quickly, but I stayed due to my head trauma. At noon in the first full day in the hospital, a few of my friends visited. I was in tremendous pain and couldn’t move. Yet I was happy because I felt I had somehow taken a hit for my family, sparing their lives. But after a short while, one of my friends broke the news. Despite my uncles’ hesitancy to tell me they had decided that I deserved to know: an air strike which had targeted our neighbour’s house had badly damaged my own home and killed five of my family members: my mom Jamila, my dad Ibrahim, my two brothers Mohammed and Ahmed, and my four year old nephew Adham. Ten other family members were wounded. Everything went black.” There are shafts of hope as well and some of those who write have left Gaza over the years for education and jobs. There is an ordinariness of life and an extraordinariness of trying to live amidst death and destruction. Many of those who write have been moved up to a dozen times during the war. These accounts have impact and are very moving. They shed light on the death, destruction and genocide being wreaked on Gaza at the moment. They have power because they show the very ordinary aspirations of Gazans in impossible circumstances.
If I must die, you must live to tell my story. Let it bring hope, let it be a tale.
Refaat Alareer 1979 - 2023
The heartbreak. The unrelenting resilience. The constant displacement. The thirst for knowledge despite it all. The power of still finding the little moments of joy. The survivors guilt. The continuing momentum of hope that their land is reclaimed.
We Are Not Numbers pairs young writers with mentors from all over the world, to support, refine and develop their narrative skills. Here's to their stories. Here's to their success. Here's to peace!
It arrived in my mail yesterday, and I opened it today, finishing it before the end of the day! It’s one of those books that is hard to put down. Palestinians live a very different life from ours, and despite all the challenges they face, their land (Palestine) has one of the highest literacy rates in the world. While the book contains great stories of resilience, I still long to read something from a non-secular perspective from someone in Gaza.
Wow. What an important and much needed book. Words cannot begin to truly explain the emotions I felt reading this book and the impact it had on me but I happy to see action to further elevate the voices of the Palestinian people. I urge everyone to read this.
I rarely write reviews, but there are books that inform you—and then there are books that undo you. We Are Not Numbers is the latter.
In the voices of young Gazans—some of whom have since been silenced by airstrikes—we hear not only the anguish of surviving under siege, but the sacred defiance of telling one’s truth in a world that insists on looking away. We Are Not Numbers is not just a book; it is a lifeline.
Each story is a refusal: a refusal to be reduced to a statistic, to be erased, to be forgotten. In a media landscape that routinely dehumanizes Palestinian lives, these personal accounts—of bombed homes, lost siblings, dreams deferred—are revolutionary. Yet, amid the trauma, there is also tenderness: family warmth, sea breezes, the joy of poetry. These are full lives. These are real people—with dreams, ambitions, desires, and loved ones.
The writing is raw, often unfiltered—a reflection of lives lived on the edge of grief and hope. The editors make a wise choice in letting the voices stand as they are: honest, urgent, and unpolished. It is deeply appreciated.
As I read, I found myself pausing to grieve children I’ve never met, to rage against the systems and governments that allow this suffering, and to marvel at the strength of a people who are still writing. Still dreaming. Still resisting. I carry their words with me now. I don’t get to forget. Neither should you.
In light of the ongoing genocide in Gaza, this book demands more than passive reading. It calls on readers not only to bear witness—but to act. These voices, many now silenced forever, are not asking for pity. They are asking: Will you finally see us? Will you finally speak out? Will you?
Read this book. Share it. Let it unsettle you. Let it reshape your silence into solidarity. These are not numbers. They are names, voices, futures—some already lost, some still fighting to be heard. Don’t let them disappear.
This book was emotional but brutally honest, there was no sugar coating and no self pity, each writer speaks with dignity even when talking about their unbearable pain and memories. They demand for their words to be heard and remembered. And they show the resilience of people who refuse to be erased. It reveals the personal, human side of life in Gaza. It doesn’t just tell you about war, trauma, occupation and loss, it makes you feel it. Through heartbreaking stories of lost siblings, curfews, airstrikes, laughter amid rubble, and dreams held tight in the face of despair. It humanizes what the headlines reduce to simple numbers and statistics, and forces us to confront the truth that every number on the news had a name, a family, a story, a voice and a dream. And by the end we will no longer see Gaza as a faraway place, but as a home full of beating hearts and broken yet unyielding spirits.
This book is heartbreaking from start to finish, beautiful, and necessary.
This work is a collection of writings from young Palestinians. Starting in 2015 and moving chronologically through until November 2024, we see what it's like to try and grow up and be a normal teenager with dreams and aspirations. We see the next generation of Gazans strive to overcome the oppression and genocide of their families and friends.
This isn't an easy read, but you knew that before you read this review. Each writing has a section afterwards that tells the reader where the author is now. Some have moved to other countries, with or without their family. Some are still in Gaza and have been displaced time and again. All have had their friends and family die. And others have been martyred themselves.
Especially with those who have writings from 2015, seeing where they are now is inspiring. Lawyers, Doctors, they have flourished in the past decade and it's wonderful to see. But as the writings move closer to the present day there are fewer resolutions like that. Israel has been attacking Palestine for longer than most of us have been alive. 1948. 77 years. But from October 7th 2023 they have been actively working towards a genocide.
Every single person in this book is innocent. None of them are terrorists. They just want to live where their grandparents and great-grandparents lived. To not be at risk of dying from bullets or bombs. To have access to food, water, and shelter. That really shouldn't be too ask.
This book will show you the resilience of Gaza's youth, and if you're anything like me, make you wish desperately that there was no need for it. These children are suffering every day, and yet are so strong.
I'm so grateful to Penguin for sending me a copy of this book and letting me spend some time with the writing of these young adults. In 2015 I was the same age as them. Seeing how different our lives have been? Well let's just say I'm much more grateful for each mouthful of clean water I have.
"Non siamo numeri" è una raccolta di racconti di giovani palestinesi, curata da Ahmed Alnaouq e Pam Bailey e pubblicata in Italia dalla casa editrice Nutrimenti nel 2025.
Non si tratta di fiction, ma di racconti di vita reale, che giungono in occidente da una terra martoriata da decenni, la Palestina, per cercare di penetrare in quel muro di gomma che è l'indifferenza dell'essere umano e della politica.
I racconti sono stati realizzati per il progetto WANN (We are not numbers), la cui missione è "creare una nuova generazione di autori e pensatori palestinesi che sfruttino il potere delle parole per resistere in modo non violento all’oppressione, per influenzare l’opinione pubblica sul blocco israeliano in corso a Gaza e condividere tutte le sfumature e complessità della loro esistenza".
I racconti del volume sono suddivisi per anni e si susseguono, quindi, dal 2015 a oggi. Si assiste così a un crescendo di violenza e paura, che culmina con l'ultima commovente poesia che dà il titolo al volume.
"Diteglielo, diteglielo, siamo più che numeri, più che echi silenziosi in un registro dei morti, siamo famiglie intrecciate nell’amore, amici, viviamo all’ombra delle nostre speranze, legati dai sogni".
È impossibile commentare questo testo: non ci sono parole, perché muoiono in gola.
Fame, sete, paura, lutti, sensazione di morte imminente, incertezza sul futuro, perdita della capacità di sognare, droni che solcano il cielo, tetti che possono crollare e case che possono trasformarsi in tombe.
Al di là delle questioni politiche, vi è solo una certezza: nessuno merita tutto questo!
"Quel giorno, una parte di me è morta con Adam. Credo che si trattasse della parte convinta che i bambini fossero immortali, che non soffrissero né morissero".
Took me a long time to finish this as it’s so truely heartbreaking. A collection of stories that MUST be heard. The passage of time, from the earliest account to the most recent reflects the worsening outcomes of the authors lives. Some were able to escape Gaza while other futures became increasingly uncertain or shorter lives altogether. Reading this book is a good starting point in understanding what life is like for the people of Gaza - they are not numbers and should never be treated that way.
I think there's humanity in the act of becoming desensitised to ongoings, as though we are trying to protect ourselves from secondhand grief. It is human, I think, to become desensitised to something you see everyday on your phone screen.
What's less human is becoming comfortable in your desensitisation. And for that, this book is an absolute must read.
Every single submission in this project is heartbreakingly human, but I'm giving a special mention to Haya Abu Shammala's "An ode to my roof, the thin line between death and life" (pp. 18-20) - "What is worse than expecting to die at any moment? Sometimes I envy the dead because they don't have to wait any more. Fear is a more effective weapon than rockets; it leaves its victims haunted by the possible scenarios of how and when they will be killed. Every night, I asked my roof, Will you ever collapse on me?"
And a few other snippets from this project:
"Gaza, my homeland: it breaks my heart to see you in this state. You have always been the warm embrace that nurtured us, no matter the adversity. We love you in all your conditions - whether in peace or in war. We are committed to rebuilding you into a loving home once again. You deserve our loyalty, and we will remain steadfast. Your freedom is near, so not fear."
"Tell them, we shall avenge them with our voices, with ink and pen, with memory and prayer."
"A Palestinian begins to question whether they have the right to a normal, 'human' life."
"I have learned a few truths. First: the world is hypocritical, yet is full of hidden gems; good people willing to speak out. Second: actual death is when you don't stand up for what is right. And third: no matter what, Palestine will always be my home."
From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free. 🇵🇸
I had the luxury of reading this book over several weeks, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, in the garden on a sunny day with iced water, resting after climbing a mountain in the Lake District, lying in my comfortable bed before sleep,….all my luxuries a stark contrast to the basic lack of humanity granted to the brave, articulate, resilient young Palestinian writers on these pages conveying in their words the shocking injustices and cruelties they bear. These beautiful pieces of writing from 2014 to November 2023 show their hopes, desires, and dreams controlled and crushed by the occupying state, the blockade and now the ongoing genocide. Bravo to these resilient young people! Shame on the world for standing by and allowing this to happen! Recommended.
If you enjoy platforms like live storytelling live storytelling platforms such as The Moth, appreciate the poetry presented by Button Poetry, or find TED Talks engaging, then you will likely be captivated by this beautifully produced and narrated collection of stories from the youth of Gaza.
I highly recommend considering a physical copy or a Kindle version as well, since you’ll probably want to highlight and bookmark on nearly every story—this collection truly deserves it. My experiences with audiobooks have often shown me that it's challenging to pause the narration and take notes, which can make it tough to fully capture those gems of insight
Review: As I listened to We Are Not Numbers: The Voices of Gaza’s Youth. The Sunday Times Bestseller, I frequently found myself pausing, struck by the harsh reality that the stories shared within are genuine accounts of real people’s lives, not mere fiction. The experiences recounted throughout the book often felt like they belonged to a dystopian novel, yet they capture the harsh lived reality of countless generations of Palestinian people.
These stories broadened my perspective on the everyday lives of people in Gaza and tackled all the naive questions I used to have. By the time I finished the book, I felt like I had become a more informed and compassionate individual.
If I had the chance, I would make sure that "We Are Not Numbers" reaches every corner of the globe. My greatest hope is that its powerful message strikes a chord with people everywhere, reminding us that the lives being lost are tied to families and individuals just like ours.
I can’t think of a time in history where a genocide has been documented in such detail from first person accounts. A unique perspective, Gazans are so well educated they can share their stories in an accessible way that most genocide victims have never been able to.
This poetry collection has been a long time coming since its inception of 2015. The publishers have done an amazing service to Palestinian youth, this is a platform for their voices and their dreams. I hope the contributors are one day able to get to their ideal futures, educated, safe, and back home in Palestine.
While stories of poverty, lack of food and extreme violence were of course focal in this collection, it was also interesting to see the everyday life living under occupation before the Israeli invasion after October 7th. The concept of not being able to read a physical book is so crazy to me. The postal service preventing the simple civil right of delivering an order of books, so Palestinians are forced to make do with PDFs on their phones. In contrast, their Israeli neighbours get their parcels with no problems.
This collection is sure to be an important historical text for decades to come. My favourite line from one of the contributors was “I want the world to know Gaza is all about life.”
Non siamo numeri è molto più di una raccolta di testimonianze: è un racconto intimo e potente che svela la quotidianità della vita sotto assedio, nel cuore della Striscia di Gaza. Attraverso le voci di decine di giovani palestinesi, emergono con forza non solo le atrocità della guerra – bombardamenti, perdite, traumi – ma anche e soprattutto le indegnità dell’occupazione israeliana, fatte di ostacoli minimi e devastanti: il blocco dei confini, l’assenza di acqua potabile, la luce che manca, le cure mediche negate, le opportunità rubate. È la narrazione capillare di una resistenza che si consuma giorno per giorno, silenziosamente, nella sopravvivenza stessa.
I testi – che spaziano dal racconto autobiografico alla poesia, dalla lettera personale al reportage emotivo – sono teneri, tragici, e profondamente politici. Perché l’esistenza stessa del popolo palestinese, la sua presenza ostinata sul territorio, la volontà incrollabile di affermare la propria cultura, la propria terra, la propria umanità, è un atto politico. Ed è per questo che ogni storia, ogni ricordo, ogni sogno raccontato in questo libro diventa gesto di resistenza. Anche quando si parla d’amore, di amicizie interrotte, di tramonti sul mare o di desideri lontani, tutto è immerso nel presente insanguinato e nella lunga ombra della Storia.
Queste voci arrivano da giovani scrittori e scrittrici che partecipano al programma We Are Not Numbers, non rappresentano certo la totalità delle esperienze palestinesi, ma tracciano un sentiero comune. In esse si riconoscono sentimenti condivisi: la difficoltà di pensare al domani in un presente devastato; la tenacia con cui, nonostante tutto, si continua a immaginare un futuro libero per la Palestina. Alcuni di loro sono morti, altri vivono in esilio, altri ancora resistono a Gaza. Ma nessuno è davvero lontano. La lingua – l’inglese con cui questi testi sono stati scritti, e poi tradotti in italiano – diventa ponte e arma insieme: per raccontarsi, per esistere, per farsi sentire.
Non siamo numeri è un libro che commuove, indigna, educa. Ma soprattutto, restituisce dignità a chi troppo spesso è ridotto a cifra, a danno collaterale, a notizia di cronaca. Leggerlo significa decidere di guardare, di ascoltare, di non voltarsi dall’altra parte.
How can you review a book like this? Depressing. Nearly finished, but marked as finished because they are all short pieces. Sorrow. War. Death. Has even bits of hope lasted based on what is currently on the TV every day? Some of these people still in Gaza are learning English, so they write. You wonder where they are now, who is alive or dead? I wouldn’t know how to do it, but first, these are young people from our generation, in 20s and 30s. Maybe some readers of this can make contact, find out how they are, but unfortunately we can’t tell them that the rest of the world is trying to end the starvation and indiscriminate slaughter by the most moral army in the world. Unfortunately we all know the world and leaders are doing nothing. At least the French leader will recognize a Palestinian state in September. Our British cousins should be appalled at the spinelessness of their leader and his silly little conditions because he hardly has courage to defy his master in Washington. How is this idiot even a Sir? And how disgraceful and mad that you made Tony Blair one, like Iraq and what he did never happened? Honestly how can the world take your politicians and royals seriously? They’re as bad as ours.
heartbreaking and so hauntingly beautiful. if there was ever a book i would tell people they have to read this it. history will damn the west for this in coming years. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
Gazans are holding on to hope. Many still wear around their necks the keys to the homes stolen from them in 1948 - a powerful symbol of their right to return. Their enduring hope and frustration help to explain why the breakout of 7 October 2023, widely condemned, was seen by many as a desperate attempt by Palestinians to reclaim their stolen homes - which they could see just on the other side of the fence, the same fence they had marched to peacefully during the Great March of Return, where many were shot.
We Are Not Numbers, a compilation edited by Ahmed Alnaouq and Pam Bailey, gives voice to those who have lived through that harsh reality and continue to endure it. Written by Gazans learning or improving their English, the 75 short essays give an intimate and authentic voice to their experiences through stories, poems, and reflections, capturing what it has been like under the blockade, beginning from earlier times when some semblance of normality was still possible: vibrant urban life with universities, schools, hospitals, bookshops, libraries, cafes and shops, all functioning.
Book lover Khaled Alostath fondly recalls visiting a "coffee shop called Cordoba that has a small library"- a place certainly destroyed now, along with so much else. Trainee surgeon Said Alyacoubi shares the story of Mahmoud, a five-year-old hospital patient who died of lymphoma while his mother waited endlessly for Israeli bureaucrats to grant permission for specialist treatment outside Gaza. Haya Abdullah Ahmed brings a lighter touch, joking about the impossible questions in her English textbook, like "Would you like to travel to Canada or Paris?". In her dreams, she imagines giving a lecture at the University of Massachusetts. For many young Gazans, life outside their confinement is a constant daydream.
The book also introduces harsh realities and powerful voices of resistance. Omnia Ghassan’s "The Betrayal of Wonder Woman" exposes the propaganda of Gal Gadot, who served in the Israeli army and glorified Israeli soldiers killing Palestinians. Manar Alsheikh profiles the young female artist-photographer Menna Murad Qudiah, who once gave a piano recital in Gaza City and took photos at the border fence during the Great March of Return. Ahmed Alnaouq’s "Gazans Send Kites Over the Border" captures the hope and joy of making hundreds of red, green, and white kites sent over the fence, symbolising the dream that unites all Palestinians.
Asmaa Tayeh opens up about her long struggle with depression, a condition deeply stigmatised in Gaza because it implies giving up: "Facing depression in Gaza is not easy. Most of us simply don't know what normal is." Eman Shawwa was inspired to conserve Gaza’s historic buildings and studied Architectural Engineering at the Islamic University of Gaza - a university now completely destroyed, along with all of Gaza's ancient architectural heritage.
These are just a few of the 75 stories in the collection. Despite the sadness and loss, reading these lively accounts filled me with admiration and affection for our steadfast friends in Gaza. Their city and their civilisation may have been bombed flat, but they hold fast to the memory of what was—and what will be again.
This work is a collection of writings from young Palestinians. Starting in 2015 and moving chronologically through until November 2024, we see what it's like to try and grow up and be a normal teenager with dreams and aspirations. We see the next generation of Gazans strive to overcome the oppression and genocide of their families and friends.
This isn't an easy read, but you knew that before you read this review. Each writing has a section afterwards that tells the reader where the author is now. Some have moved to other countries, with or without their family. Some are still in Gaza and have been displaced time and again. All have had their friends and family die. And others have been martyred themselves.
Especially with those who have writings from 2015, seeing where they are now is inspiring. Lawyers, Doctors, they have flourished in the past decade and it's wonderful to see. But as the writings move closer to the present day there are fewer resolutions like that. Israel has been attacking Palestine for longer than most of us have been alive. 1948. 77 years. But from October 7th 2023 they have been actively working towards a genocide.
Every single person in this book is innocent. None of them are terrorists. They just want to live where their grandparents and great-grandparents lived. To not be at risk of dying from bullets or bombs. To have access to food, water, and shelter. That really shouldn't be too ask.
This book will show you the resilience of Gaza's youth, and if you're anything like me, make you wish desperately that there was no need for it. These children are suffering every day, and yet are so strong.
I'm so grateful to Penguin for sending me a copy of this book and letting me spend some time with the writing of these young adults. In 2015 I was the same age as them. Seeing how different our lives have been? Well let's just say I'm much more grateful for each mouthful of clean water I have.
This is an eye-opening, wonderful collection of short personal stories by young Gazans. Funny, surprising, and sometimes tragic, all these stories are immediately recognizable. They are filled with hope and humanity.
Young people full of dreams, like the student who walks around her ruined city, dreaming of how she will repair the buildings. The young woman, struggling with her body image, the young man who searches the internet for pictures of libraries in different countries, hoping he will visit them one day.
The writing spans ten years of the project We Are Not Numbers, which links young Gazans who want to write in English with writing mentors. It is a book that restores humanity, both to the young writers and to the reader, who will learn more about daily life in Palestine than they ever imagined possible
From a craving for ice cream, to the stress of final exams, to the longing for love or to travel the world, to the fear of violent death at the hands of anonymous Israeli soldiers, these stories capture the hopes and fears of an entire generation, while never losing sight of deeply personal dreams and goals.
This is a very moving collection that points to the dignity and creativity of young people surrounded by war, but who cling to hope.
I cannot recommend this collection high enough. It has heart. This book, and the project of the same name is an antidote to the dehumanization that war inevitably promotes. Once you start reading, you will not be able to put this book down.
We Are Not Numbers by Ahmed Alnaouq and Pam Bailey is unlike anything I’ve ever read. This collection of essays, poetry, short stories, and memoirs is written by young people in Gaza from 2015 to 2024, captures the human heartbeat of life under occupation with an honesty that is both devastating and deeply moving.
The chapters are short, yet each one holds an entire world within it. A glimpse into love, loss, resilience, and hope. At the end of each piece, you learn what became of the writer. Some of them are no longer living, and that truth lands like a stone in your chest. It’s not a graphic book, but it’s raw in the most profound way; these are the lived realities of young Palestinians living in Gaza, written in their own voices, with all the beauty and pain that entails.
I’ve read many books on Palestine, but nothing compares to this. It’s by far the most powerful, necessary, and humanizing collection on the subject.
This collection is heartbreaking, beautiful, and absolutely essential. Reading it is not just an act of empathy; it is an act of solidarity. Five stars, and infinite gratitude to the young writers who shared their words with courage.
“What is worse than expecting to die at any moment? Sometimes I envy the dead because they don’t have to wait anymore. Fear is a more effective weapon than rockets; it leaves its victims haunted by the possible scenarios of how and when they will be killed. Every night, I asked my roof, will you ever collapse on me?”- Haya Abu Shammala
“Happiness is a choice. It is also a process of trial and error, and above all of perseverance”- Nada Hammad
“The ability to adapt must not mean the passive acceptance of poor circumstances or to ignore our dreams of the lives we wish to live” - Haya Abdullah Ahmed
“When will the war end? Do I have the right to live a decent life while my family in Gaza endures such hardships? A Palestinian begins to question whether they have the right to a normal, “human” life”- Aya Zaqout
“I've become so used to these stories, I stopped seeing the bigger picture. The repeated tragedies that affect almost all Palestinians made me lose perspective. This life is not normal. It is not normal to have an entire family removed from the civil registry because they all died in an Israeli bombing. It is not normal to be denied your childhood because you were locked up in an Israeli prison since you were thirteen for a crime you didn't commit, like Ahmad Manasra. It is not normal to be traumatised by the sound of a shutting door because it reminds you of the sound of bombing. And it is not normal to lose your five-year-old son, such as Tamim Daoud, because his heart couldn't handle the sound of F-Is dropping bombs on his neighbours.”
EVERYONE WHOS THINKING IF THEY SHOULD READ THIS BOOK: READ THIS BOOK RIGHT NOW!!!!