Palestinians in Gaza strategise how to survive and how to die amid Israel's indiscriminate onslaught

Parents are splitting families across locations to boost survival chances and are writing their children’s names on them so they can be identified in death

A young man looks at residents of the Jabalia refugee camp in Gaza as they search for the bodies of relatives on November 1.
REUTERS
A young man looks at residents of the Jabalia refugee camp in Gaza as they search for the bodies of relatives on November 1.

Palestinians in Gaza strategise how to survive and how to die amid Israel's indiscriminate onslaught

Alam al-Din Sadiq, from Khan Yunis in the southern Gaza Strip, only had a faint notion of what lay ahead for him and his family after 7 October this year.

As a journalist with long experience reporting on Israel’s treatment of his homeland, he knew there would be an aggressive response. And ever since, it has become clear to this father of three young children that he and his loved ones face unprecedented hardships, even by the standards set in 16 years of siege.

When Hamas attacked Israel on that fateful day, Sadiq immediately headed to the Nasser Medical Complex in central Khan Yunis to cover the unfolding events.

Several hours later, he witnessed tragedy strike. An Israeli plane fired on an ambulance at the hospital’s emergency entrance, killing both the injured young man inside and the paramedic. Additionally, several others in the vicinity were injured.

Sadiq said it was the moment he realised that Palestinians in Gaza were facing a new level of brutality — one that is unlikely to spare civilians. He wondered to himself: "If an ambulance can be targeted within the confines of a hospital, what would prevent Israel from targeting civilians in their residences?"

REUTERS
Palestinians near the bodies of people killed in Israeli raids on the northern Gaza Strip on November 1.

Terrible choices in tragic times

Sadiq abandoned his duties at the hospital and headed home. Driven by concern for the safety of his family, he made a snap decision to scatter them to various places so that they would not all be killed in one air strike.

His mother went to stay with relatives, his wife and two-year-old son sought refuge in another house, his 4-year-old son took shelter with a relative, while his eldest, a 6-year-old, went to a fourth house.

Driven by concern for the safety of his family, Sadiq made a snap decision to scatter them to various places so that they would not all be killed in one air strike.

Then, Sadiq returned to the hospital to continue reporting the unfolding events. As days went by, air strikes escalated, and hundreds of civilian homes were targeted without warning. He became increasingly convinced his decision to spread his family across various locations was the right one.

He told Al Majalla: "My main concern was that if one of my three children were in a targeted house, I wouldn't lose all of them; at least the other two would be safe."

While covering the air strikes, Sadiq would determine where they happened, hoping it was not near one of the locations of his loved ones. If it were, he would stand at the hospital's emergency entrance, examining the faces of the injured or lifeless bodies – especially the children – desperately checking none of them were his sons.

"I searched for the resemblance of my children in every child brought to the emergency department," Sadiq said.

"Sometimes, I would set aside the camera, unable to capture any images. My primary concern was to find reassurance, especially given the poor state of communication networks and internet access," he explained.

AFP
A Palestinian carries the body of a child killed in an Israeli raid on the Jabalia Palestinian refugee camp in the Gaza Strip on November 1.

Communications blackout

Just before the onset of Israel's ground invasion, internet and telecommunications networks were entirely cut off. This made the initial 24 hours of this phase of the war exceptionally challenging. He could not reach his family members or relatives to check on them. And he could not leave the hospital.

Sadiq was not the only person to make the difficult decision to disperse his children. Many families did the same, including those who had already been displaced from the north to the south.

They also sought refuge in relatives' homes or several schools operated by the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Refugees (UNRWA). These schools sheltered the displaced and protected some family members in case their primary residences were bombed.

Gaza's Ministry of Health (MoH) has revealed the scale of the tragedy during the bombing campaign.  Nearly 10,000 Palestinians have bene killed so far, with women and children comprising 70% of the death toll.

Gaza's Ministry of Health (MoH) has revealed the scale of the tragedy during the bombing campaign. Nearly 10,000 Palestinians have been killed so far, with women and children comprising 70% of the death toll.

The MoH's spokesman in Gaza, Dr. Ashraf Al-Qudra, previously stated that Israeli attacks on civilians had resulted in the disfigurement of children and women, with some arriving at hospitals without limbs.

And the MoH has also received around 2,000 reports of people missing, believed to be under rubble, including around 1,100 children.

Children's names on hands and feet

With such a high death toll, numerous children have had to be laid to rest in mass graves without proper identification. To avoid that, parents have been writing on their children's hands and feet, labelling their loved ones with names, so that they can be identified in the event of being killed in an airstrike.

Sumaya Abdel Rahman, a mother living in Deir al-Balah in the heart of the Gaza Strip, has done so for her six children. She explained why: "I or my children could become victims at any moment. Having their names written on them would at least allow someone to identify them and search for other family members in case any of them survived. The Israeli bombings do not discriminate; we are all potential targets for the planes and the occupation army."

Sumaya had also heard of families dispersing across various homes. But she kept hers together. She wanted to be with them, to protect them as long as possible, or at least to be close to them in their final moments.

Sumaya had also heard of families dispersing across various homes. But she kept hers together. She wanted to be with them, to protect them as long as possible, or at least to be close to them in their final moments.

Hussein Nour al-Din has also written his children's names on their hands and feet after an Israeli air strike hit a house near his own in Gaza City.

The 48-year-old decided to disperse his three children, as he moved to the south to a shelter for displaced people near the Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Yunis with his eldest sons. His youngest child stayed with family, including his mother, at another shelter nearby.

He said:  "It's acceptable for me and my older sons, being male, to sleep in the open within the medical complex's courtyard. However, my wife and our younger son require a more private, perhaps, safer place."

Despite his awareness that all areas in Gaza are at risk, he still hopes that some areas will not become targets for the Israeli military.

AFP
A Palestinian man hugs an injured child at Al-Najjar Hospital in the Gaza Strip on October 30.

Permanent prayer dresses

The ever-present danger in Gaza has led to a specific practice among Gaza's women and adolescent girls. They have been wearing full-length prayer dresses throughout the day because air strikes could come at any time.

Um Yasin, a 44-year-old woman displaced from the northern Gaza Strip to Rafah in the south, said: "Even when I sleep, I wear the prayer dress. One never knows what's coming ­­– bombing nearby, an immediate evacuation warning, or perhaps direct unannounced bombing that kills us."

Her three daughters, who share a room with her, do the same, even when sleeping.

This practice is widespread among all women and girls in households and shelters across the Gaza Strip, who want to be fully dressed and ready for any emergency that could strike at any time.

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