The Egyptian drama series Sohab Al Ard, or People of the Land, is dominating Arab television screens during Ramadan – but for many Palestinians, the portrayal of wartime Gaza is too much too soon.
Starring Menna Shalaby and Eyad Nassar, the 15-episode series follows an Egyptian doctor who travels to Gaza with an Arab relief convoy, where she falls in love with a Palestinian man as they navigate life under Israeli bombardment.
The show, which has a humanitarian focus, and aims to convey Gaza's suffering and resilience, prompted controversy even before its release. Israeli media criticised the omission of the Hamas-led October 7 attacks and a perceived lack of scrutiny of Egypt.
But while the debate outside Gaza has focused on politics and narrative framing, the response inside the strip is more raw and personal. For Nissma Al Halabi, 37, who lives in Gaza, the issue is not whether the series is well made but whether she can bear to watch it at all.
“People in Gaza are not the audience for this,” she told The National. “We lived these events in our flesh and blood.”
From a psychological perspective, she says, scenes of bombing and displacement can cause unwanted flashbacks. The sound of shelling or images of hospitals and families fleeing could reopen wounds that have not healed.
“It is natural not to want to watch,” she said. “This is not avoidance. It is protecting yourself.”
It was painful, Ms Al Halabi said, that while the real tragedy had unfolded on TV screens for months, it became digestible for many only when repackaged into a drama with characters, narrative arcs and cinematic pacing.
“Art sometimes makes reality ‘consumable’.” she said. “Even when the real events were harsher and clearer.” Still, she acknowledged the series may have value for those who did not live through the bombing, possibly stirring public opinion where news footage failed.
“But survivors have the right not to watch,” Ms Al Halabi added. “Memory here is not history. It is ongoing pain in the body.”
Islam Al Zanoun, 33, from Gaza city, also finds the series challenging. “The scenes do not pass over us the way they pass over others,” she told The National. “People elsewhere watch a plot. We relive a reality.”
The memories of war remain vivid for her: sounds that still echo, images yet to fade. “Our memory is not an archive that can be opened and closed,” she said. “It is a living wound.”
Ms Al Zanoun has considered watching the show after reading reviews and analysis, but said she is hesitant. “It is not fear of harsh scenes,” she said. “It is fear of awakening pain.”
She worries that the screen will become a mirror, reflecting what many in Gaza are quietly trying to postpone, not forget. “Some artworks are watched,” she said. “Some are lived again.”
Not everyone in Gaza is avoiding the series, though. Rashad Ragab, 33, who lost his home in Al Shujaiya, found the first episode emotional but affirming.
“It reminded me of thousands of real scenes we lived,” he said. “The director portrayed reality as if he had been with us.”
He praises Peter Mimi’s direction and Shalaby’s performance as a doctor working amid the devastation. For him, the series fills a void.
“For two years, Gaza was absent from cinema and drama,” he said. “I always wondered: doesn’t what happened here deserve to be documented in thousands of films?”
Mr Ragab sees it as ironic that many people in Gaza lack the stable electricity, internet, or even TVs on which to watch the series. Still, he believes it matters beyond Gaza.
“It strengthens resilience,” he said. “And finally, there is a work that portrays what is happening here.”
The response to Sohab Al Ard inside Gaza reflects a broader tension between documenting Israel's war and dealing with trauma. Some see it as necessary or overdue, while others cannot bear to watch.
In Gaza, the war has not yet settled into history. For many, it lives on in the body, in the silence after loud sounds, in the spaces where homes once stood.
“We endured many hardships, and of course the reality was far more painful than any scenes portrayed. There are still 100,000 stories that have not yet been told, and I wish that all of them could be told," Mr Ragab said.
