Palestinian programmer sets up work-friendly refuge in seaside town to get Gaza's remote workers back on track

On a recent afternoon, Hibatullah Al-Jazzar was glued to her beachside workstation, racing to finish a design for a client in the Gulf.

A few metres away from her table, she could see the Mediterranean’s crystal waves breaking on the shoreline. It would be an idyllic workspace – if not for the possibility of an Israeli airstrike at any moment.

Hibatullah studies interior design engineering at Al-Aqsa University — one of the 12 universities in Gaza badly damaged, if not completely destroyed, by Israel's war that has killed more than 40,000 Palestinians, displaced the Strip’s 2.3 million people and reduced its buildings and infrastructure to rubble.

If surviving Israeli bombardment wasn’t difficult enough, many Palestinians are trying to get back to work.

Students, remote workers, and freelancers like Hibatullah, have been in search of electricity, reliable internet, and a clean surface to prop up their laptops and continue their studies or reconnect with companies abroad.

For freelancers and their war-torn families, the income is desperately needed.

One of the more remarkable solutions to emerge is what’s been dubbed the “free workspace,” a simple, work-friendly refuge set up by Palestinian programmer Muhannad Quraik in the seaside town of Mawasi Khan Younis, on the southern end of Gaza.

Even as war rages nearby, the workspace is an oasis of relative calm. 

'Pulled from the fire to paradise' 

Each day 40 to 50 entrepreneurs, programmers, engineers, and journalists fan out across tables and chairs facing the beach, typing out work on their laptops and corresponding with colleagues abroad.

A solar panel provides electricity — a handy response to the destruction Israel has wrought on the Strip’s power supply. It means however that everyone has to pack up by sunset.

For Gaza’s freelancers, the space has restored an essential connection with businesses in the outside world, letting them re-build work relationships – and sources of income – that were severed by months of war. 

Each day Hibatullah walks an hour to reach the work space. The trek is a dangerous one, but it’s worth it, she said, since her work is her family’s primary source of income.

Ever since she found the space two months ago, Hibatullah has managed to win back design clients and review university lectures online, restoring a work-study balance reminiscent of her days before the war.

“As soon as I found out about this place and began resuming my work, life returned to me. I felt that there is still hope,” said Hibatullah.

"I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said that I was pulled from the fire into paradise,” she told The New Arab.

“Other young people wish they could stay here even at night if electricity were available, so they could finish their work and revive their previous business relationships," Hibatullah added. 

Primary earnings from remote work 

Remote work is a primary source of income for thousands of young people in Gaza. Before the war, the Strip was home to an assortment of incubators, business accelerators, and NGOs that trained up Gaza’s entrepreneurs and linked them up with companies and opportunities worldwide.

Maher Shbeir, a board member of the IT Companies Union — an organisation working to support and develop remote work systems — estimates that nine business incubators and 15 business accelerators that were overseen by NGOs have been destroyed. That’s besides the dozens of companies that were working with them.

Just before the war, Gaza’s remote workers were doing better than ever, said Maher.

"Remote work in Gaza was at its peak across all stages, from training to employment. It employed about 18 percent of university graduates, making it one of the main avenues of employment in Gaza,” he told The New Arab. 

Gaza’s entrepreneurs used to generate $6 million per month, with thousands of remote workers across fields like engineering, design, media, and programming, said Maher.

He worries that if the Strip’s young workers don’t get more support, companies will move on and look to workers elsewhere.

Muhannad, who is in his final year of studying Information Technology, opened the “free space” after being displaced twice, first from Rafah and then from Khan Younis.

To make the space a viable place for young freelancers to work, he invested all of his family’s savings. Although fairly simple, it addresses the two things needed by every remote worker: regular electricity and decently fast internet. A clean space by the beach isn’t bad either.

Muhannad, himself a freelancer, says the project was born out of his own struggle. After he was displaced from Rafah, he couldn’t find electricity or internet to finish work assignments.

Pretty soon, several companies terminated their contracts with him. After he opened the space, he’s been able to win some back and even secured a few new contracts for programming gigs with Arab and European companies

Despite the devastation around him, Muhannad wants to grow the space. Instead of accommodating a few dozen remote workers, he wants it to host hundreds and to operate at night, a common request for entrepreneurs working with companies in faraway time zones. But so far, the solar-powered operation just can’t handle that.

Just keeping the current operation going comes with huge risks. “There’s a 100 percent chance of complete loss at any moment for various reasons, including the possibility of displacement, aerial bombardment, or naval attacks by the Israeli forces, since the project is located directly on the beach,” said Muhannad.

For Maher, the fact that Palestinians are resuming work at all, despite the constant threat of annihilation, is nothing short of incredible. “It reflects the ability of young Palestinians to persevere,” he said. 

Mohamed Solaimane is a Gaza-based journalist with bylines in regional and international outlets, focusing on humanitarian and environmental issues

This piece is published in collaboration with Egab