I’m Feda Shtia from Sunono Publishing, and I would like to introduce our new project to you, which we hope will be well received and may grow with your support into something meaningful.
Who We Are
We are an independent publishing house based in Scotland, where I live with my Scottish husband and our eight-year-old son, Saif. Sunono Publishing was established on November 4, 2020, and is named after the swallow bird because it is a migratory bird that returns to its nests in the summer and spring seasons. It perfectly represents my personal and broader aspirations for the publishing house, as I am an Arab living abroad.
The house focuses on publishing children’s stories for ages 0-13, with our books released in two separate editions—one in Arabic and the other in English—serving as a bridge between two cultures. Like the swallow, we belong to our nests in our homeland, remaining loyal to our motto: “We travel through stories.”
What is the Gaza I Spy Project?
The project is a luxury coffee table book, measuring 33cm by 25cm, with a high-quality linen fabric cover and silkscreen color printing. The book also features hand-crafted artwork on the back cover. While the cover is lavish, the content delves deeply into the experiences of Gaza’s children during the most recent war, which erupted in October 2023 and continues to this day.
The book presents photographs of Gaza’s children, showing their faces as they are: with smiles, frowns, and confusion. It documents their daily lives—from waiting in line for water and food to the ongoing displacement that has continued for nearly seven months, with no end in sight. Gaza I Spy is a book about children, but not for children. It includes around 200 photographs and artworks, with some images filling a full page or spreading across two pages. The book also features an introduction and poetic excerpts from Palestinian poets such as Refaat Alareer and Mahmoud Darwish, as well as relevant quotes that suit some of the scenes, and occasionally, statistics that document the history of this tragedy.
In the final pages, there is a pictorial index of all the images, each accompanied by a brief caption of no more than three lines, such as: “Rafah Crossing, children waiting,” or “An eight-year-old girl playing with her sister after losing her family.” The book also includes pages introducing the team, supporting organizations, and other documentation rights and acknowledgments.
Why the Name?
We chose the name Gaza I Spy inspired by the children’s game “I Spy with my little eye,” to suggest that the book is from the perspective of children or seen through their eyes. Through their gaze, we discover what is happening now in Gaza, especially as we challenge the media censorship that attempts to justify what is happening in the Gaza war and obscure the images, numbers, and names. The name also carries a satirical undertone, playing off the original purpose of the game, which is to encourage children to observe the scenes around them. But what do children now see amid this rubble and uncertain future?
Book Structure
In addition to the captivating photographs, Gaza I Spy incorporates poignant comments alongside the images, including poetry and quotes from renowned Palestinian poets and other writers. These literary elements add depth to the visual narrative, enhancing the reader’s engagement with each image. Additionally, an index at the end of the book provides thumbnail images with annotations, offering insights into where each photograph was taken and its context.
Why a Coffee Table Book?
As writers and publishers, it is essential for us to create work with genuine value. Gaza I Spy is not just a luxury book; it’s a statement. We are tired of seeing expensive books showcasing high fashion, jewelry, and the lives of the rich. It’s time to shed light on the most oppressed city on earth—a place where escaping death is a daily struggle. The coffee table format for Gaza I Spy was chosen to enhance the visual impact of the photos and encourage reflection. The large pages, high-quality printing, and elegant binding turn this book into a striking centerpiece. By presenting it this way, we create a meaningful connection between the reader and the stories of Gaza’s children, offering a powerful contrast to the often superficial contents of luxury books.
Meet the Team
The Courage of Young Journalists: Anas and Hammam
Anas Ayyad (25) and Hammam Al-Zaytuniya (29) are not just photographers; they are brave journalists who face death daily to document the truth and destruction in Gaza. These talented individuals often borrow or rent equipment from friends, as they do not own their own cameras. My heart breaks when I learn that their press tent was destroyed this week by an Israeli airstrike. Hammam told me, “Last night, I gave my spot in the tent to someone else, and then the attack came.” He barely escaped death.
Every day, when I ask Hammam to take pictures for our book, a part of my heart breaks. Similarly, I lose a piece of my heart when I ask Anas to review information on Google Drive and ensure that every caption is accurate. Anas once told me, “I’m in the street, trying to find a signal. I downloaded the document, and I’ll fill it in offline, waiting for a better chance to upload it again.” How many of us will remain to see Gaza I Spy come to light? How many hearts will continue to beat?
A Mother’s Journey: A Personal Dimension
Adding a deeply personal dimension to Gaza I Spy is the journey of a brave mother from Gaza, documented alongside her three daughters. Her photos capture their desperate escape from place to place, narrowly avoiding death several times. Her powerful images add an emotional layer to the book, highlighting the human cost of war and the unyielding spirit of survival.
I often feel embarrassed when people ask me, “Do you have family in Gaza?” While I understand their concern, sometimes I want to scream and ask, “What difference does it make?” Instead, I explain that our team there is like family. Sabrine Al-Baz, a mother of three daughters—Jihad (5), Sidal (4), and Maryam (2.5)—has become my sister in Gaza, sharing her daily life with me through pictures and WhatsApp chats. She tells me how she sold her last ring to feed her daughters, how she fled from an UNRWA school shelter to a tent on the beach, and how that tent became a home instead of a place for leisure. Her experiences embody the transformation of Gaza’s beautiful beach into a refuge, contrasting starkly with its former pleasures.
Will the beach ever become a beach again for these children? Will the schools bring the terror of Israeli rockets crashing down on them while they sleep? Will Sabrine regain her rings?