Since I started my work in the field of human rights in 2014, I have submitted my resignation multiple times after each Israeli offensive on Gaza. After having done my duties as a human rights advocate and -before anything else- as a human being, I fell into depression resulting from desperation over international inaction towards war crimes, and for weeks, sometimes even months, I felt we were screaming into the void. I was known for submitting resignations after each attack until it turned into a joke at the organisation and among my colleagues. As we move to close the physical space of our Euro-Med Monitor (@EuroMedHR) Gaza office, fearing for the safety of our staff following an escalating Israeli campaign in retaliation for our documentation of Israeli abuses, and most recently the release of our report on sexual violence in Israel’s places of detention, I came across this message sent by my manager on the morning of 7 October 2023. Jokingly, he said: “I’m telling you from now, your resignation will be rejected,” and then followed it with another message: “If you stay alive, of course" I sent him the screenshot this morning, reminding him that I “happened to” stay alive, but that, bizarrely, I haven’t submitted my resignation, not during the genocide, not following the ceasefire agreement, and not even now, as an Israeli incitement campaign is escalating. While the world was looking away as a genocide was being livestreamed on their screens, I questioned the point of our work countless times. As I quietly recited the Shahada (the statement of faith before death) each time I entered a school to document testimonies, I questioned whether the world actually deserved more evidence to finally acknowledge that the target was everything called Palestinian, not just a certain political or armed group. I had so many existential questions, but, to my astonishment (and that of my colleagues), not even once did I submit my resignation. With each human rights defender, activist, or journalist targeted, I came to realise more and more that something about them was annoying the perpetrators. And for the first time in my life, I found a purpose in what I want to be; that if I couldn’t stop war criminals, I want to live the rest of my life annoying them. As we close the door to our beloved Gaza office, we have finally, more than ever, found a purpose in continuing what we do by all means, under all circumstances.