Gaza is the first genocide to be captured in real-time images on devices we hold in our hands. Two days after October 7th, the Lebanese comic artist Mazen Kerbaj began drawing in reaction to what was appearing in his phone. This powerful and original book brings together that work.

Mazen draws in part to bear witness and raise awareness, but also as a coping mechanism, to remain sane amid the unfolding madness. His straight-to-the-point, high-contrast black and white art is accompanied by striking slogans and captions. It has been shared widely around the world, helping people express their solidarity with Palestine.

Produced from Berlin, a city where the repression of Palestinian support has been particularly fierce, Mazen’s drawings raise fundamental questions about seeing as an act of solidarity when those in power seek to suppress news of what is happening.

Haunted by the live-streamed images, we dread seeing more when we open our phones. By representing them in simple cartoons, Mazen allows us to scrutinize and reflect on the horrors we have witnessed. The result is an extraordinary sequence of images and messages that ask us to pause for a moment, to stop, look, mourn, and summon the resolve to head out and join the fight for the living, for life, for justice.

Gaza is the first genocide to be captured in real-time images on devices we hold in our hands. Two days after October 7th, the Lebanese comic artist Mazen Kerbaj began drawing in reaction to what was appearing in his phone. This powerful and original book brings together that work.

Mazen draws in part to bear witness and raise awareness, but also as a coping mechanism, to remain sane amid the unfolding madness. His straight-to-the-point, high-contrast black and white art is accompanied by striking slogans and captions. It has been shared widely around the world, helping people express their solidarity with Palestine.

Produced from Berlin, a city where the repression of Palestinian support has been particularly fierce, Mazen’s drawings raise fundamental questions about seeing as an act of solidarity when those in power seek to suppress news of what is happening.

Haunted by the live-streamed images, we dread seeing more when we open our phones. By representing them in simple cartoons, Mazen allows us to scrutinize and reflect on the horrors we have witnessed. The result is an extraordinary sequence of images and messages that ask us to pause for a moment, to stop, look, mourn, and summon the resolve to head out and join the fight for the living, for life, for justice.