Disclaimer: In this review, I'm using the word "war" very loosely as we all know what is occurring in Gaza--a genocide. Thank you.

What would you do if war was a part of your everyday life? What it just made itself comfortable in your daily routine? First, you wake up and make yourself a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly roasted beans surely does awaken your senses, doesn't it? Next, you sit and listen for any drone strikes. You can kind of get an idea of where it's going to hit based on the way the drone is facing so you're hoping it doesn't hit near you. You wake your family and try to establish some normalcy--mundane routine--to dull the ache and uncertainty of war. As you all sit with each other in harrowing silence while eating what constitutes a breakfast, you listen to the news radio as it tallies up the death toll from yesterday. It's going to be an interesting day.

You finally take a step outside and suck in a deep breath. It smells like bodies decaying and burning buildings. Lots of ash and soot. You shouldn't be breathing this in but that isn't your fault. You go around and inspect the damage while keeping an eye out. You always have to keep an eye out. It's second nature. All five of your senses have made room for war. For years, you've become accustomed to what it tastes and smells like. You've certainly seen it and heard it. You'll always feel it. It has seeped into your skin and drilled its way into your bones--right down to the marrow. Obviously, this is all hypothetical. You haven't witnessed any of this. Your senses haven't acquired this specific taste, smell, and feel. You've never heard a drone strike your home, your business, your livelihood. You've never seen the bodies of babies, elderly, men, and women trapped under tons of rubble waiting hours, even days, to be saved...hopefully. I'm only trying to paint a picture for you. However, the picture I paint will always be incomplete. I, too, have never experienced war. I have no idea what war looks or feels like. I've never tasted the stale air of rubble, ash, and dead bodies. I've never heard a building collapse to the ground in one second or the cries of a person whose entire family was wiped from existence so easily. I wake up in the morning and I'm greeted with silence. What a privilege that is. I wish Palestinians had that privilege. I'm sure as Atef was writing his diary, he wished that too.

The Drone Eats with Me by Atef Abu Saif is a diary. Atef ended his days writing in his journal in 2014 while Israel was bombarding Gaza. His diary paints the picture completely. His diary pushes us to think, "What if this was us?" Every entry held pain, despair, hope, joy, death, fear, and love. Atef crafted this work so beautifully and poetically that you kind of forget it's real. You forget that this is a diary. His diary. Every entry brought us into Gaza. They brought us into his routine. What does Atef do to feel safe? Normal? There are so many moments in this diary that will be stamped on my heart forever and every page turn I held out hope that Atef and his family would survive another day. I'm sure as he was walking the streets of Gaza, he was hoping the same. 

The least I can do now is carry your story through this life if you can't. Amplify your voice when others try to silence it. Be your anger when you feel you have none left. Be your hope in a world that feels like nothing but despair.