A Palestinian boy waits at the Rafah crossing in southern Gaza. (Hatem Omar, Maan Images)

On Wednesday, I was supposed to be in London, addressing a rally organized by Britain's Palestine Solidarity Campaign and other organizations to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Israeli occupation of Gaza and the West Bank. It was the inaugural event of the "Enough!" Coalition, which is calling for an end to the occupation and freedom for Palestine.

I could not make it to London. Gaza's border with Egypt is closed for an indefinite period. Before the closure was announced I was hoping to cross to travel to London, as it had been announced several times on local TV that the borders would be open for one continuous week.

I postponed all my work, my plans and appointments, and also my community work, and went to the border several times hoping for it to open. It was so cold and the situation so uncertain. I saw crowds of people waiting on the Palestinian side in inhuman circumstances. I was told that at least 200 medical patients were waiting to leave to Egypt for treatment that is unavailable in Gaza.

Even when you are lucky enough to leave Gaza for Egypt via this one and only exit, the Rafah crossing, you are always uncertain of your return to Gaza.

We in Gaza do not travel and are deprived of this basic right, the right of movement. We also have various restrictions on our movement inside Gaza and on travel to the West Bank. The majority of us cannot use the Eretz checkpoint with Israel to leave Gaza for the West Bank. All of us are barred from using the Israeli airport in Lod. I personally have not traveled to the West Bank for the past 12 years. During this time, I have missed many important and more routine meetings related to my work as a physician. My youngest daughter dreams of visiting Jerusalem, Ramallah or Nablus, just as all her friends do.

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Living in Gaza under such tough and cruel circumstances, the entire community suffers from the economic sanctions imposed by the Americans and the rest of the West against the Hamas-led government. These sanctions have contributed heavily to the severe deterioration of the political, economic, social and psychological situation inside Gaza.

On top of the direct suffering created by the sanctions, we are living in the midst of clashes between Fatah and Hamas. I blame both parties for the Palestinian bloodshed and do not excuse them whatsoever for their actions. Nevertheless, I blame the West for its economic sanctions, and I blame the Israeli occupation, which after its withdrawal from the Gaza Strip converted it into one big, boiling pressure cooker.

The Israeli disengagement from Gaza is a new form of occupation, because Israel still controls Gaza from outside. It controls the borders and the economy, and has a free hand to carry out various incursions. Israel's disengagement from Gaza was a step towards making an independent Palestinian state impossible. But its consequences have been to turn the Palestinian cause into a charitable, not national, issue. By making the Palestinian people go hungry and lose all aspects of a dignified life, it has been a step towards demoralizing them and in the end forcing them to accept whatever solution to the conflict, however small and inadequate.

What do you expect of people who live inside this pressure cooker to do but resort to all sorts of aggression, despair, demoralization, and frictions against each other? More than 60 people have been killed - 30 in three days - and more than 70 have been injured in different parts of Gaza. Most people have stayed inside their homes. One man was killed inside his home. Many of the buildings in the Remal area where I live have been hit by random shooting and many residents have left their homes seeking safer areas. But where are those safer areas when no place is safer than any other?

The children of Gaza now have their mid-term vacation. Two weeks of vacation with no regular electricity, no safe streets to run in, no proper places to play, no safe homes to stay in, and no proper food to eat. Life continues and the most dangerous time is when people start to lose faith and hope, and have no vision for the future.

With your solidarity, with the solidarity of all those good people worldwide who hate to see injustice and aggression, and continue to work for a better world, I can keep my hope and vision for a better future, and try to transmit those feelings to the others here to keep them strong.

I still count on you for a better future for the Palestinian people, the women, and the children who deserve better lives.

Mona El-Farra is a physician and mother in Gaza City. She blogs at From Gaza, with Love, where a version of this piece first appeared.