Capturing life beyond genocide in Mohammed Omer Almoghayer's On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza

When he embarked on writing On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza, his newly published mosaic of life in Gaza before the genocide, Palestinian writer and journalist Mohammed Omer Almoghayer decided to narrate the stories he had to tell in the present tense.

By recasting events from the past as if they were happening in the present, Mohammed succeeds in making “Gaza feel alive once more,” in his own words. The Gaza that comes to life in Mohammed’s book is “an illusion, a resurrection, a magic spell.”

Yet, it is also his home — the place where he was born and raised, where he came to know the fascinating cast of characters who comprise his book, and where he was first introduced to a people who understood that life, at its best, is not about material success or dominance over others.

Mohammed’s book is, in part, a memoir of his coming of age in Gaza. However, as a memoir, it is unique in that it primarily focuses on the lives of people other than himself. As I immersed myself in Mohammed’s chronicle of the chefs, teachers, surfers, and fashion designers of Gaza, I was reminded of the thrill of reading African-American poet Langston Hughes’s journey through Soviet Central Asia in Wonder as I Wander (1956).

Like Langston, Mohammed has a remarkable ability to capture how people learn to love life under the most difficult of circumstances. The roots of this book, however, lie firmly in Palestinian literature. On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza joins the ranks of other accounts of growing up in Gaza after the Nakba, such as the memoirs of Muin Bseiso and political prisoner Nasser Abu Srour, while charting its own distinctive path.

Joie de vivre

Although the French coined the term joie de vivre (joy of living), it is Gazans who, according to Mohammed, have perfected the art of living. They know how to make do with little and even thrive. Without romanticising his people, Mohammed reminds us that there has always been — and always will be — more to life in Gaza than genocide.

While acknowledging the hardships imposed by the perpetual electricity cuts that marked life in Gaza before the genocide, Mohammed notes that these challenges “force families to rely on each other for entertainment and social connection as they gather in the evening to chat on doorsteps and in courtyards.”

Similarly, Mohammed’s account of how disabled people are cared for and honoured as full members of the Gazan society could serve as a lesson for any society worldwide. In Gaza, Mohammed explains, “people with disabilities are supported and understood in ways that are often hard to come by elsewhere.”

The major difference between the status of those with restricted mobility in Gaza and elsewhere is that, here, the disabled “don’t have to fight for access, inclusion, or representation because everyone has sympathy for people whose bodies have been dismembered by Israel’s military.” A world in which “disability has become normalised” (as Mohammed puts it) is one that is more equal, more inclusive, and more caring for the entire community.

Mohammed does not idealise the struggle of the Palestinian people against the slow genocide that was already underway before 7 October 2023. Nor does he, like many western commentators far removed from this struggle, rely on the concept of "resilience" as if that could make genocide acceptable.

Palestinian scholar Malaka Shwaikh has shown how the resilience framework is often used as a political tool by global development organisations “to pass the burden of coping with violence to individuals instead of tackling the root causes of (structural) violence.” By contrast, Mohammed gives us a fully textured portrait of the people who have shaped his sense of self and awakened him to what it means to be human.

Among the many people whose stories he shares, readers will always remember Hassan, who owns and manages a specialist medical lab in Rafah’s city centre. As the person who administers and interprets medical tests for the people of Rafah, Hassan is at the heart of his community. He counsels a pregnant teenager and helps her manage the difficult consequences of an unexpected pregnancy. He assists a couple dealing with infertility and opens the husband’s eyes to the possibility that it is he, rather than his wife, whose medical issues are preventing conception.

Senses of Gaza 

Mohammed’s storytelling is non-linear, and this structure adds depth to the narrative. The story of Naji, whose life was changed for the better after a photograph depicting his abuse by an Israeli soldier was published and reached a wider audience, is interspersed throughout the chapters in a series of “interludes.” This nonlinear presentation heightens suspense and keeps readers engaged as they progress through the narrative.

Many of Mohammed’s most moving stories centre on the relationships that people in Gaza have established with the outside world. From Italian chefs to foreign diplomats to Banksy, Mohammed illustrates how, despite the towering security walls, the buffer zones, and the checkpoints, Gaza remains connected to the rest of the world.

Thanks to the internet, Gazans have formed deep friendships with people around the world who have been unable to enter Gaza. Physical distance and impenetrable borders have not prevented lives from being transformed for the better through friendship, solidarity, and mutual learning.

Mohammed has an extraordinary eye for detail. Reading the book involves all the senses: sight, taste, touch, smell, and hearing. He takes particular delight in describing the culinary range of Gazan food. From maqlouba to kunafeh, the fresh vegetables, fruits, and spices of this fertile land contribute to a cuisine that is uniquely savoury and sweet.

We smell “ground wheat still mingling with the rich aroma of freshly ground and brewed coffee” and savour the delicacy of the stuffed grape leaves (waraq enab) made by his grandmother. Beyond food, we witness the cresting waves of the Mediterranean Sea as they crash on Gaza’s shores, and the beauty of Gaza’s nighttime skies when they are not filled with drones.

Understanding solidarity 

For those of us who have grown frustrated with waiting for our protests to stop the genocide, Mohammed offers insight into what solidarity truly means for the people of Gaza.

He acknowledges that “people in Gaza often feel overwhelmed and isolated,” but adds that “support and solidarity from friends around the world… make a real difference in their ability to cope, recover, and feel enough space in their psyche to hope and dream of a better future.” There is a place for everyone in Mohammed’s book, including the reader.

On the Pleasures of Living in Gaza is as hopeful a book as could have been written in a time of genocide. In the final chapters, Mohammed confronts this genocide directly and reflects on all that has been lost. He also recounts his own experience of being taken captive, a story that had been absent from the rest of his narrative.

To conclude, this book provides a broader context for understanding the accounts of starvation and mutilation that are emerging from Gaza today. Far from negating the horror of life in Gaza that is unfolding before our eyes, Mohammed offers a framework for appreciating all that has been destroyed and for honouring those who have been martyred.

Taking Mohammed’s world seriously means working towards the time when Gaza will be reborn, like the phoenix that regenerates itself, and for which the Municipality of Gaza’s reconstruction plan was named.

Rebecca Ruth Gould is a Distinguished Professor of Comparative Poetics and Global Politics at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London. She is the author of several influential works at the intersection of aesthetics and politics, including Erasing Palestine (2023), Writers and Rebels (2016), and The Persian Prison Poem (2021). Alongside Malaka Shwaikh, she co-authored Prison Hunger Strikes in Palestine (2023). Gould's articles have appeared in leading publications such as the London Review of Books, Middle East Eye, and The Nation, and her work has been translated into eleven languages

Follow her work on Blue Sky: @rrgould, and Substack: rgould