Ahmed Ghraiz is wrapped up warmly against the cold. It’s dark inside the dance centre in which he sits, the occasional teenage voice echoing loudly in the background. There is no electricity and little light, while a car battery has been wired up to his laptop in an attempt to generate power. The moment the internet router is turned on, the battery dies. “I tell you, I’m really suffering in this situation,” he says with exasperation.
“I finished college five years ago and trained as a nurse but there is no work. There are no jobs in Gaza, just a lot of people waiting around for nothing. Should I just wait until I get a job? Should I do nothing with my time? No. So I decided to teach dance up and down Gaza. That’s how I’m living. This is how you find me now.”
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