On 30 August, during the final of the shot put event, the versatile Gazan athlete, shot putter, and sole Paralympic representative of Palestine at the Paris Games, will carry with him more than just a flag into the stadium. In his hands, he will hold the dreams, hopes, and pain of a people striving for recognition. "We are still here, we are still alive," asserts Deeb with determination in his recent interview with France24, voicing a cry of resistance amid the storm.

At 39, Deeb has lived more than most. Born in 1984 in the Shuja'iyya district of Gaza, his life has been marked by war, navigating a sea of suffering. From a young age, sport became his refuge and passion, nurtured by his physical education teacher, Mohammed Elshekh Khalil. Deeb delved into the world of sport, excelling in football, volleyball, basketball, and tennis, eventually joining the Gaza volleyball team at 16—a notable achievement amid rising tensions between Israel and the Palestinian Territories—.

Yet, among all the hardships he has endured, one stands out. On 4 October, 2001, his life "changed forever," he reveals, his voice trembling as he recalls the moment. While walking through Gaza, an Israeli sniper shot him in the back, leaving him paralysed. He was just 17 years old. "This is not the end of my life," he repeated to himself. In Arab culture, he found solace in a particular saying: "You must be like water." Embracing this idea, he allowed his spirit to flow and adapt to the circumstances, however agonising they were.

Instead of giving up, Deeb, driven by hope and determination, reinvented himself. He resolved to face his new reality with strong-mindedness. "You must think positively," he exclaims with conviction. He began training in adaptive sports such as table tennis and wheelchair basketball. His strength and resolve led him to compete in other disciplines, including shot put, discus, and javelin, earning six medals at international competitions in Tunisia.

Nevertheless, training in Gaza posed as many challenges as the obstacles outside the field. With limited resources and scarce sports equipment, Deeb has had to improvise. "Sometimes we don't have enough equipment, so we use whatever we can find, like stones, car wheels, or pieces of metal," he explains. These makeshift tools often weigh more than standard equipment, but for Deeb, this is no problem. His training is both physical and mental, a preparation for confronting the ongoing hardships of life.

Deeb's participation in the Paralympics is not merely a personal achievement. In this odyssey, he always has in mind his country, his people, and those who have fallen victim to violence. "I am competing for the more than 40,000 dead and over 90,000 injured in Gaza," he states, his voice laden with responsibility. The gazati receives daily messages from lifelong friends, urging him to press on; without their support, he might not have continued. "You are our voice to the world," they tell him, reminding him that his struggle is the struggle of all Palestinians.

Naturally, his path to Paris has been fraught with personal grief. In December 2023, while playing a basketball game in France, he received the tragic news of his brother's death. “I always keep my phone close because I never know when a conversation will be the last,” he says, a constant reminder of the fragility of life in his homeland. The passing away of his brother is just one of many downsides Deeb has endured on his journey to represent his people on the global stage. Over 15 family members have been laid to rest, yet these losses have only fueled his resolve to proclaim that “Palestine will never die.”

When the Stade de France announcer calls out ‘Fadi Deeb’ during the shot put final at the Paris Paralympics, he will not be alone in the arena. With him will be the voices and hearts of all those he has lost, as well as those who "continue to struggle in Gaza". His presence at these Games is a testament to human resilience, the ability to transform pain into strength, and the importance of “never giving up,” as he puts it, and this was no less evident in his recent French interview.

"I want to show the world that Palestine still exists, that we still have hopes and dreams to fulfil," says Deeb. In every throw, in every effort, he carries not just the hope for a medal but the deep desire of a people to be seen, heard, and respected. His journey is a testament to his legend and harsh memories, and his faith is that of a man who has decided, against all odds, to keep moving forward, demonstrating that life, despite everything, always finds a way to bloom.