Such a beautifully written, but heartbreaking book of stories.
This was at times, most of the time in fact, a very difficult book to read. But I'm glad I read it.

Would highly recommend to anyone!

“Letters from Gaza” is a collection from thirty writers and poets of Palestine as they share their perspectives of the ongoing genocide. We are honored to read their feelings, fears, memories, thoughts, and hopes. While “Letters from Gaza” is an easy read, it is emotional. Should be assigned reading.

Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Random House SEA! #LettersFromGaza #NetGalley.

The works from the writers and poets of Palestine have been collected into this incredible book to tell their perspectives of the ongoing genocide. Each story or poem has been translated for English readers, with each entry ending with a small biography about their life.

This was an emotional read; filled with anger, hope, fear, grief. Each story or poem is both easy to read, yet so hard to digest. I think this is a must-read for everyone.

Letters From Gaza: A Collection By the People is the most devastating book I’ve read in years; a raw, unflinching chronicle of life under genocide. Edited by Mahmoud Alshaer and Mohammed Al-Zaqzooq, this anthology gathers letters penned by Gazan writers in the aftermath of October 2023, as Israel’s brutal assault ravaged their homes, families, and futures. These pages are a gut-punch. The authors, many now martyred, document unimaginable horrors: children drafting their own obituaries, mothers whispering apologies to unborn babies they know will not survive, and entire lineages erased in seconds. One passage haunts me: “I am searching for the meaning of our lives—of life—in war. Nothing has any meaning except imagining what will happen to us and our bodies when the bombs fall. How will we die? In one piece, two pieces…three? Will we be just body parts? Where will our blood splatter?” This existential dread permeates every page. Children draft their own obituaries; mothers cradle newborns they know will not survive; families scavenge for limbs in rubble. A contributor recounts: “I climbed over the rubble... looking for [my family’s] remains. But a cat arrived before me and devoured a piece of flesh. I wasn’t sure if it was my cousin’s wife. His children?”

The letters force you to inhabit Gazans’ terror, their sleepless nights under bombardment, their grief as they bury neighbors with bare hands, their grotesque calculus of survival. The intimacy of their voices (often cut short by death) shatters the dehumanizing rhetoric of headlines. You don’t just read about starvation; you feel a father’s shame as he fails to find bread for his daughter. You don’t just see statistics of dead children; you hear a 10-year-old calmly describe preparing her “death bag.” The letters reveal how survival itself becomes a paradox. One passage captures the numbing repetition of trauma: “Four seasons have passed, and you are in a place that doesn’t know you... We question our ability to hold on, but war tightens its grip even more. We live the same day with the same set of feelings: ‘How did the people of Gaza endure all this pain?’”

The book forces audiences to reckon with complicity. Israel’s siege weaponizes even basic needs: "Even then, the Occupation targeted bread, water, and fuel lines. To think of eating became a crime, a transgression for which children, women, and even the defeated elderly paid the toll.” These are firsthand accounts from Palestinians living, and dying, under Israel’s genocidal, savage and inhumane assault post-October 2023. These letters, many penned by authors who were later killed, are not mere narratives; they are visceral screams against oblivion.« Tonight, I will fall asleep telling myself that the noise outside is fireworks, a celebration and nothing more. That the frightened screams of children are the gleeful terror of suspense before something long-awaited, like Eid. »

Letters From Gaza is a counter-archive against historical amnesia. It echoes Kanafani’s Letter from Gaza (1956), where a wounded niece’s amputated leg becomes a metaphor for collective steadfastness. Again, this is the most devastating and painful book I’ve read in years. It left me sobbing, furious, and irrevocably changed. As one letter pleads: “Come back, my friend! We are waiting for you,” a call to global solidarity.
Chaimae Belahrache
Ph.D. Candidate in New Trends in Literary, Linguistics, and Cultural Studies (UAE-Tetouan)
M.A. in English Literature and History of Ideas
B.A. in English Literature
Adjunct University Professor of English | Faculty of Economy
Co-Author of https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14725886.2024.2394778?af=R (Routledge, Taylor and Francis)
chaimae.belahrache@etu.uae.ac.ma

Letters From Gaza is a powerful and deeply human collection that amplifies voices often drowned out by headlines. Alshaer and Al-Zaqzooq have curated a raw, emotional mosaic of lived experiences from a year of unimaginable hardship, making the political personal and the personal universally resonant.

The strength of this book lies in its authenticity. These aren’t polished narratives—they’re fragments of life: letters, reflections, and bursts of emotion penned in the shadow of destruction. That unfiltered honesty gives the collection a visceral punch. You feel the exhaustion, the grief, the tiny moments of hope.

If there's a flaw, it's perhaps that the structure can feel uneven at times. Some entries land harder than others, and a more cohesive narrative thread might have helped readers follow the emotional arc more clearly. But maybe that’s the point—life in Gaza isn’t structured neatly, and neither are these stories.

This is not an easy read, but it’s a necessary one. It doesn’t preach or politicize—it simply invites you to bear witness. And in a world where bearing witness is an act of resistance, that’s more than enough.

Thanks to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the ARC.

Publishing date: April 28, 2025

Letters from Gaza is a collection of letters from 30 people trying to survive unthinkable, ongoing tragedy and devastation in Gaza.

The authors of the letters write about the pain and heartbreak of losing family members, not knowing the next place they will lay their head down, and if they they will wake up.

I frequently had to put this book, which is something that Gazans do not have the luxury to do as they are living through the horrors in real time.