Bassam Najjar, 62, a father of 11 from Burin, described how his family fell into poverty after he lost his job in Israel following decades of employment
I am married to two women and live in the village of Burin. Six of my children still live with us, and I provide for them: Sadil, 19, Hadil, 17, Sidra, 16, ‘Ali, 15, Saleh, 9, and Mirna, two months old. The other five children are married and provide for their families.
I’ve worked in Israel since I was 23, for many companies, such as Barazani Group construction company. I was in charge of ordering equipment, steel, cement and everything else, and I also managed and supervised the laborers. I was paid 85 ILS an hour (~ 28 USD). I was with one of the companies for 18 years. I received a six-month permit to enter Israel, and it was renewed automatically. Everything worked fine until the war in Gaza started on 7 October 2023. I was home that day, and after that everything changed. The entire West Bank was closed, and I couldn’t get to my job in Israel. I thought the situation would be temporary, a month at most, but it has lasted until today. I’m in constant contact with my employer. He also calls me to ask how I’m doing, and he hopes the war will end too. Every time, tells me we’ll go back to work in a month or two.
I had an office in Israel where I kept all my work-related documents, and I had a cabinet there full of personal items and work-related things, documents and work site maps. I closed the office on Thursday, 5 October 2023, at 5:00 P.M. and haven’t been back since.
I’ve worked in Israel since I was 23, for many companies. [...] I was with one of the companies for 18 years. I received a six-month permit to enter Israel, and it was renewed automatically. Everything worked fine until the war in Gaza started on 7 October 2023. after that everything changed. The entire West Bank was closed, and I couldn’t get to my job in Israel.
I’ve lost everything. I’m unemployed, waiting for the war to end so I can go back to my job. In the meantime, we’re very hard up. I’ve used all my savings and owe money to the butcher, the grocery store and all the shop owners in the area. I’ve started buying turkey instead of veal because it’s less expensive, and I’m trying to cut back in every possible way, but I have a large family and we have lots of expenses. My baby daughter Mirna needs formula, which costs 50 ILS (~ 16.5 USD) a week, and diapers, which cost 35 ILS (~ 11.50 USD) a week. I’m embarrassed to ask the pharmacist for credit.
I’m embarrassed to ask the pharmacist for credit. Also, my first wife, Khulud, has diabetes and hypertension and needs constant care. My second wife, Ibtisam, also developed diabetes during her last pregnancy, has a thyroid issue and needs surgery and medical follow-up. All this involves many expenses.
Also, my first wife, Khulud Khaled Najjar, 57, has diabetes and hypertension and needs constant care. My second wife, Ibtisam, 41, also developed diabetes during her last pregnancy, has a thyroid issue and needs surgery and medical follow-up. All this involves many expenses.
My daughter Sadil is a second-year student at a-Najah University, and I don’t know how I can pay her tuition. I’m just waiting for the war to end. The fees are expensive. Each semester costs 2,850 ILS (~ 935 USD), on top of books, school supplies, commuting to university and other needs. Sadil needs about 50 ILS (~ 16.5 USD) every day for travel and other expenses, and I don’t know what to do because I have nothing. I asked her to skip the summer semester and maybe also the first semester next year and hold off on her studies for now, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay.
I don’t know how I can pay [my daughter Sadil] her tuition. [...] Each semester costs 2,850 ILS, on top of books, school supplies, commuting to university and other needs. [...] I asked her to skip the summer semester and maybe also the first semester next year and hold off on her studies for now, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay.
When I was working, I supported my married sons too. I have a granddaughter who is taking the tawjihi [matriculation] exams this year, and she’ll probably enroll in university next year. I don’t know how we’ll manage, or what I’ll do when my other children grow up and want to go to university too. Even now, when they’re in school, the expenses are high.
I tried to look for work in various areas in the West Bank but couldn’t find anything because no one in the area knows me professionally. I’ve worked in Israel all my life, and I have expertise and lots of experience in construction, but unfortunately, it’s of no use to me now because no one even looks at me. They’re looking for names they know from the area, and no one wants to work with someone unknown.
I asked people in the construction business to help me find work. They all said it would be tough because people aren’t starting new projects now because of the situation, and everyone is also afraid that things will get worse.
I asked people in the construction business to help me find work. They all said it would be tough because people aren’t starting new projects now because of the situation, and everyone is also afraid that things will get worse. I’m embarrassed to ask the local council for financial assistance because I’m known as a person who is well-off, and for years I supported other people.
About two months ago, I bought meat on credit for 300 ILS (~ 98 USD) and I still haven’t paid the butcher, and I don’t know what to do. I went back to him and said: I’m not a crook, but I have no money. He let me buy on credit again, turkey for 200 ILS (~ 66 USD) and told me: If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to come. I know you’re a respectable man. I left the shop holding back tears. What is this situation I have found myself in? What happened to me? How long will I live like this and have to buy everything on credit? Even my mother, Rahmah a-Najjar, who is 82, gave me a 5-kilogram bag of rice so I could feed my children.
I don’t have any farmland, because settlers took over the land I inherited from my father and grandfather, who cultivated it for decades. I haven’t been able to access it for years, except with prior coordination during the olive harvest. But since the war, we haven’t gone there at all because the settlers stop us.
I’m 40,000 ILS (~ 13,200 USD) in debt. I hope things go back to the way they were before 7 October, and that I go back to my job. I can’t find other work. The situation in the West Bank is very, very bad, and there are no opportunities at all. I don’t even know how to do agricultural work. I’ve never worked in it, and I also don’t have any farmland, because settlers took over the land I inherited from my father and grandfather, who cultivated it for decades. I haven’t been able to access it for years, except with prior coordination during the olive harvest. But since the war, we haven’t gone there at all because the settlers stop us. Local residents tried again and again to access land in this area, and settlers attacked them and drove them away.
I’ve tried, and am still trying, beekeeping. I’ve set up three hives, and I’m still learning about the subject and watching YouTube videos. I have no experience in this at all, but I’m trying. I have no choice. I’m trying to find a way to live and support my family.
Many laborers sneak into Israel under very harsh and dangerous conditions. I’m too old to climb the fence or run and do such things. But I have sons who go there.
Two of my sons, who have three children each, worked in Israel before the war and lost their jobs like me. Now they sneak into Israel without permits under very dangerous conditions. I live in fear and worry about them when they’re there. I tried to stop them from going, but they said: “So you support our children. Give us money.”
Two of my sons, who have three children each, worked in Israel before the war and lost their jobs like me. Now they sneak into Israel without permits under very dangerous conditions. I live in fear and worry about them when they’re there. I tried to stop them from going, but they said: “So you support our children. Give us money.” I held my tongue. What could I say? I have no solution and not a penny.
There is a saying, “What forced you to eat the bitter thing? Something even more bitter.”
When I saw the photo online of the garbage truck with dozens of workers trying to enter Israel for work crammed inside, I felt really sorry for the laborers and for what happened to them. No one asks about us or takes an interest in our situation. I’ve heard that the council provides assistance and small sums of money collected from residents, about 700 ILS (~ 230 USD) for each laborer, but I haven’t received anything, and my sons haven’t either. They risk their lives and sneak into Israel in order to earn enough for some food and meet their financial obligations. They have houses they haven’t finished paying for, and they have small children and families with many expenses.
My neighbor worked in Israel like I did, with a work permit before the war, and since then he’s lost his job too. A few months ago, he injured his leg trying to jump over the fence. He lost a lot of blood and it was a miracle he survived. After he got better, he went back to sneaking into Israel. I told him: You’re crazy. How can you go back? You survived once, will you survive every time? He said to me: What can I do? Who will feed my children? I understand him. He has to work. If I were younger, I’d also try to enter without a permit, because no danger would be worse than staying at home and asking for a loan from a different shop every time.
My daughter Ayat is married to Saed Hasunah and they have three children. Saed was arrested in Israel without a work permit 45 days ago, and we haven’t heard from him since. When he’s released, he’ll have to pay a fine and maybe other costs that only these poor laborers have to bear.
- Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 7 May 2026