I have a good friend in Gaza, journalist Mouein al-Hilo. During the many years we worked together, he exhibited interest in what took place in Israel, and I was attentive to the goings-on in the Gaza Strip. In recent years, we have been able to talk only by phone, and each time our conversations have become sadder, more frustrating. He would worriedly tell me about his deteriorating financial status, but then always try to muster a glimmer of hope and end the conversation with the same words, “It’ll be OK.” Sometimes he would add, “It won't happen unless we believe in it and have hope.”

We talked again Sept. 17. Hilo spoke about his life and his family situation after Operation Protective Edge, telling me that his savings had completely run out. This time he didn't sign off with his usual mantra, “It’ll be OK.”

“If we don’t witness a change for the good in our lives over the next few weeks, another war will erupt soon,” Hilo firmly pronounced. “It’s impossible to live this way any longer. We have nothing to lose any more. People hoped that after the war, something would happen. We’d feel change in the offing, we’d finally breathe, but nothing has changed.”

According to my friend, this is the overall perception shared by the majority, if not all, of Gaza's residents. Desperate and hopeless.