Art Under Siege: Bisan Owda

“It’s Bisan from Gaza, and I’m still alive.”

That’s how she begins.
Every time.
A phrase that’s become both a greeting and a defiance.
A reminder that survival itself is a form of resistance.

Bisan Owda is a 25-year-old Palestinian journalist, activist, and filmmaker from Beit Hanoun in northern Gaza. Before the war, she was a storyteller in the traditional sense—a modern-day hakawati—sharing tales of Palestinian culture, history, and daily life through her show Hakawatia on Roya TV and educational videos on the Easy Languages YouTube channel. She worked with UN Women’s Youth Gender Innovation Agora Forum and served as a European Union Goodwill Ambassador, focusing on gender equality and climate change.

Then the bombs fell.

In October 2023, following the Israeli military’s directive for Gaza residents to evacuate, Bisan and her parents fled their home in Beit Hanoun to seek refuge at Al-Shifa Hospital. Their home and her office in Rimal were both bombed, destroying all her filming equipment. Undeterred, Bisan began documenting the war using her phone, sharing raw, unfiltered videos on Instagram and other platforms. Her reports, often starting with her signature line, provided a window into the daily horrors faced by Palestinians: the lack of food, water, and medical care; the destruction of homes and infrastructure; and the psychological toll of constant bombardment.

Her unwavering commitment to bearing witness did not go unnoticed. By May 2024, Bisan had amassed over 4.1 million followers on Instagram. Her work was recognized with several prestigious awards, including a Peabody Award, an Edward R. Murrow Award, and an Emmy for Outstanding Hard News Feature Story: Short Form for her series It’s Bisan from Gaza and I’m Still Alive, produced with AJ+.

Yet, amidst the accolades, a stark reality persists: while Bisan receives awards, the material support necessary for her safety and continued reporting remains elusive. The international community celebrates her courage, but tangible assistance is scarce. This dichotomy underscores a broader issue in the recognition of journalists operating in conflict zones.

Historically, war journalism has been dominated by figures like Martha Gellhorn and Clare Hollingworth, who navigated male-dominated spaces to report from the front lines. These women paved the way for future generations, challenging gender norms and redefining the role of women in war reporting.

Bisan’s approach diverges from traditional war correspondents. Operating without the backing of major news organizations, she embodies the rise of citizen journalism, utilizing social media platforms to disseminate information rapidly and directly. Her storytelling is personal, immediate, and unfiltered, providing a raw glimpse into life under siege.

This shift reflects a broader transformation in media consumption, where audiences increasingly turn to firsthand accounts on platforms like TikTok and Instagram for news. Bisan’s work exemplifies this trend, blurring the lines between journalist and influencer, and challenging traditional narratives about who gets to tell the story of war.

Despite facing personal danger, displacement, and the loss of her home and equipment, Bisan continues to report. Her storytelling humanizes the conflict, providing a face and a voice to those often reduced to statistics. Her sign-off, “I’m still alive,” is more than a statement of fact—it’s a testament to the power of storytelling in the face of adversity.

Underland Updates
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The Underland Review

We are seeking:

  • Poetry that twitches
  • Microfiction that self-destructs
  • Essays with fangs
  • Visual art that shouldn’t exist
  • Redacted files, haunted code, cursed diagrams, scanned receipts from imaginary revolutions

We do not care about your CV.
We do not require polished bios.
Previously published works? Sure.
We do not pay (yet — sorry, capitalism).
But we do offer love, weirdness, and a spotlight.


✴ Featured contributors will receive:

  • A digital copy of the zine
  • Features on our site and socials
  • An invite to our glitch-lit open mic (date tba)
  • The deep satisfaction of being canon in a lie


Deadline: May 10th, 2025
Format: PDF or Word for text. JPG/PNG for art. Max 1 piece per person.
Email: riverandceliainunderland@gmail.com
Subject line: This submission is a lie – [Your Name]

We don’t tolerate bigotry, AI slush, or boring work.

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