Hanin Hamaduna a resilient Gazan journalist and a mother of a 14-year-old boy, embarks on an emotional journey that is as much about hope as it is about heartbreak. Today she is walking home – to whatever remains of it - in North Gaza.

Ilham Edaes, a 28-year-old health worker in the West Bank, Palestine has been back to work, every day, since May, serving the hardest-to-reach communities through a mobile clinic that offers breast cancer screening. Edaes has a five-year-old son, Majd, who is growing up watching his parents share childcare and domestic chores – an unusual occurrence in the region, where domestic and unpaid care work is largely seen as women’s work.

“Before she was murdered, she wasn't alive. We'll tell her story backwards from her murder to her birth… begin the Arabic rap lyrics, soon interlaced with a mournful chorus from the renowned Palestinian soloist Amal Murkus. As if rewinding a video in slow motion, you see a young woman's expressionless face on a bed in the forest; her body floats back to a standing position; a bullet enters her forehead. Her brother is pulling the trigger. This is the opening scene of the powerful new music video If I Could Go Back in Time.