Gaza: I feel like the life I had before the war was all made up

The private thoughts and reflections of a young woman whose life has altered course because of the war in Gaza.

Watch LiveBritish Broadcasting CorporationHomeNewsSportBusinessInnovationCultureArtsTravelEarthAudioVideoLiveHomeNewsIsrael-Gaza WarWar in UkraineUS & CanadaUKUK PoliticsEnglandN. IrelandN. Ireland PoliticsScotlandScotland PoliticsWalesWales PoliticsAfricaAsiaChinaIndiaAustraliaEuropeLatin AmericaMiddle EastIn PicturesBBC InDepthBBC VerifySportBusinessExecutive LoungeTechnology of BusinessFuture of BusinessInnovationTechnologyScience & HealthArtificial IntelligenceAI v the MindCultureFilm & TVMusicArt & DesignStyleBooksEntertainment NewsArtsArts in MotionTravelDestinationsAfricaAntarcticaAsiaAustralia and PacificCaribbean & BermudaCentral AmericaEuropeMiddle EastNorth AmericaSouth AmericaWorld’s TableCulture & ExperiencesAdventuresThe SpeciaListEarthNatural WondersWeather & ScienceClimate SolutionsSustainable BusinessGreen LivingAudioPodcastsRadioAudio FAQsVideoLiveLive NewsLive SportHomeNewsSportBusinessInnovationCultureArtsTravelEarthAudioVideoLiveWeatherNewslettersWatch LiveI feel like I've been gaslit - like the life I had before the war was made up16 hours agoShareSaveSimon MaybinBBC Radio 4ShareSaveBBC"I don't think God intended for people in their late 20s to live with their parents," Hanya Aljamal says.

She's hanging out on the balcony of the tiny apartment where she lives with her mother, father and five grown-up siblings - because it's the only place she can get any peace and quiet.

Two years ago, 28-year-old Hanya was working as an English teacher and lived in a flat of her own. She was applying to colleges in the US to do a Master's in international development, and on course for a scholarship to pay for it. Things were going well - but life is different now.

Like most days, Sunday begins with a morning coffee on the balcony, while Hanya watches her neighbour, a man in his 70s, carefully tending pots of herbs, seedlings and plants in his tidy garden, just across the road from a blown-up building.

"It just looks like the purest form of resistance," Hanya says. "In the middle of all this horror and uncertainty, he still finds time to grow something - and there's something absolutely beautiful about that."