AS much of Gaza and its inhabitants now sleep forever under the rubble of what used to be homes, it is time for people around the world to write their obituaries. Typically, an obituary is a note of remembrance, a tender act of affection where the living pay tribute to their deceased loved ones. But Gaza`s obituary cannot be written like other obituaries. The obituary of Gaza is not of a person, but of dreams, ambitions and independence. Gaza`s obituary does not only mourn the death of people but also the death of humanity, the burial of international law and the demise of the conscience of the world.

Traditionally, an obituary starts with identifying the deceased, their name, their age, their place of belonging, their moment of passing. In Gaza, however, to name the dead is impossible, for every day starts with the sound of life giving way to death and ends with death taking more of the griefand hunger-stricken with it. To speal( of age is futile, for the earth now cradles infants who had yet to feel the embrace of their mothers, children clutching toys, students holding books, mothers with unborn babies who had yet to see the world, fathers who buried their children, and elders who once championed the stories of Muslim unity. Time itself has collapsed in Gaza; the unmarked graves house the young and old alike, all of them becoming examples of Israel`s naked aggression.

Post identification, an obituary speaks of what the departed loved and what their legacy would be. For Gaza and its people, what they loved was life and the basic liberties which life is supposed to bring the moistness of their olives, the bustle of the sea, a freshly caught fish, the laughter of children in alleyways and their defiant refusal to bow to despair. What they valued was life, unadorned but dignified. Their legacies were not in gold or minarets of stone, but poetry recited in hallways, bread shared with family, weddings celebrated under blockade, and the indomitable spirit that insisted that they live for a better tomorrow, in hope, in expectation and in anticipation.

In the custom of remembrance, an obituary lists the survivors. But who outlives Gaza? Survivors are rescued from the rubble only to discover that their `survival` is not life but a manmade, endless cycle of fear and hunger. Orphans survive without families to love. Mothers survive without their babies. People survive, shaking with malnutrition, the hunger which ate their bodies as they could not find food. Entire families havebeen wiped out, their legacies, aspirations and achievements washed away by the bombs raining down on them.

Survivors in Gaza are portraits of grief, carrying the fragments of the memory of their family. To call them survivors is to pretend that survival is permitted in Gaza, when it is not and when genocide reigns supreme.

An obituary usually ends with condolences: the soft words of comfort offered to those left behind. But for Gaza, the condolences are empty, noise without meaning, words without purpose. The silence of those who could have spoken, the complicity of those who could have acted, the selective empathy of those who lamented some wars but not others.

Condolences for Gaza and its Palestinians are written not in concern butinindifference.

And yet, an obituary is not only for the dead, it is also for the living, for those who must face the reality of their indifference. Gaza`s obituary is a mirror inwhich the world should confront itself. It reflects not only the charred ruins of a city buttheburntconscience of humanity.

Despite all the bombs that have exploded and all the bullets that have been Ered, all the blood thathasbeen spiltand allthe cries thatecho through the city, the memory of Gaza and the indomitable Palestinian identity breathes. The voices silenced will echo in lullabies yet to be sung, they will live in poems carried across oceans. The olive groves will grow again, their roots whispering the names of those who had once walked among them. Gaza`s obituary cannot erase Gaza`s existence, for memory is more enduring than mortar, and dignity stronger than despair.

Perhaps then, this obituary is not a conclusion but a warning. To forget Gaza is to forget our own humanity. Gaza`s obituary is written not in ink but in thought, it is engraved in the minds of the people of the world. For the obituary of Gaza is not the obituary of its people, it is the obituary of a world that has chosen to stand idle as the oppressors feed on the blood, bones, flesh and dreams of the oppressed. • The writer is a lawyer.

X: @sheheryarzaidi