Safaa al-Ghandur
3 October 2024
Safaa, a 31-year-old from Jabalya R.C., is a mother of two and seven months pregnant. She talked about being afraid, hungry and displaced, and her brother who has been missing for months
On the morning of 7 October 2023, I heard explosions while I was helping my children, Zuheir, 11, and Wafaa, 10, get ready for school. I was afraid and decided not to take them. Later, I started hearing from neighbors that Hamas had attacked settlements in Israel. We followed the news and realized a war was about to break out and that hard days were coming.
Two or three days later, the army ordered the residents of northern Gaza to move south. My husband and I decided to stay home because we had nowhere to go. We have no family in the southern part of Gaza who could host us. We felt that everywhere was dangerous and nowhere was safe. We saw that other residents were starting to head south.
The bombings from fighter jets and the artillery shelling grew heavier, and missiles and shells landed near our home. There were dead and wounded people everywhere. We constantly heard explosions around us and went through days of fear and terror. The heaviest attacks were here in Jabalya R.C. People were killed all around us. At one point, our neighbors’ house—which is about 10 meters from ours—was bombed. At the time, there were 15 people in our home because more relatives had joined us. Shrapnel, rubble and glass flew into our house, along with body parts. The children were terrified and screamed, and I tried to calm them down.
Gradually, we started to suffer from a shortage of food and water, which grew worse until we were literally starving. No one in northern Gaza had anything to eat because the Israeli military was blockading the area. Our electricity was cut off at the beginning of the war, and we charged things at our neighbors’ for five shekels [~1.5 USD] per lamp and two shekels [~0.5 USD] per phone.
The water supply was cut off, and we could only get drinking water when tankers came to our area or if we walked an hour to filling stations. Sometimes, my kids helped us and walked to the stations. At other times, we had no choice but to drink unsafe water. There was no fresh food at all: no vegetables, fruit or meat. Even the flour ran out. I had to grind animal feed to bake pita bread. My sons started getting intestinal infections and stomach aches. We still have no gas, and light fires to cook.
At some point, flour started coming into northern Gaza, and my husband would go to the al-Kuwaiti and a-Nabulsi squares to buy some. One time, the army fired live shots at people, and that day he came home without any flour.
My father, Bassam al-'Ajouri, 55, has diabetes and high blood pressure. Throughout the war he’s suffered from a shortage of medication, and our diet, which has consisted mainly of canned food, has made him sicker. We took him to the hospital, and the doctor said he needed dialysis. Since then, he’s been undergoing dialysis three times a week at Kamal Adwan Hospital.
We had to move several times during this past year, sometimes just for the night. The bombings and shelling intensified at night, so we occasionally went to various schools, displacement camps, and UNRWA clinics, where we spent the night and went home in the morning. All these places were filled to the brim. One time, we even had to sleep by the bathroom door, but it felt worth it because shrapnel and gunfire hit our home and the area around it several times.
We are still in northern Gaza, living in extremely harsh conditions. At the end of December 2023, my brother, Myasarah al-‘Ajouri (30) disappeared. At the time, my family had moved into our home, but my brother had a barbershop in the town of Jabalya and would sometimes sleep there or at a place he rented nearby, and only occasionally at our home. Then the army imposed a blockade on the refugee camp, and he stopped coming because it became too dangerous.
I don’t remember the exact date, but one day he brought us laundry and asked us to wash it, saying he’d return the next day to pick it up. He didn’t come the next day, and communication channels were down at the time. We waited two days, and he still didn’t come. We only knew that the army had ordered the residents of Jabalya to move to southwestern Gaza. We waited two weeks, but Myasarah didn’t come back.
After the army withdrew from the town and people returned, we went to look for him. We didn’t find him at his barbershop, and when we reached the house he rented, we found it had been bombed. We don’t know if he was there. We also searched in hospitals and reported him missing to the Red Cross but have been unable to get any information. To this day, we don't know if he was killed or if he is being held by the Israeli army. My mother cries for him constantly, and I think about him all the time. I am emotionally exhausted from worry.
Last April, the army raided our camp while I was at a clinic for a pregnancy check-up. People said the army had distributed leaflets ordering residents to evacuate the camp, so I hurried home. My mother said the situation was dangerous and that we had to move to my aunt’s house in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood in western Gaza City. My aunt’s house was empty because she had moved south.
We all left, under artillery shelling and gunfire. It was terrifying. Most of our neighbors went to shelters in schools in a-Shati Refugee Camp. We managed to reach my aunt’s house and stayed there for about 20 days. Those were difficult, dangerous days. The little food we brought with us ran out, and we were left with nothing. My husband and kids went to a soup kitchen, and every day we mostly ate rice.
When the army withdrew from Jabalya R.C., we went home to a disaster area. Everything was destroyed. The streets were ruined and filled with potholes, making them unrecognizable. Many houses were demolished and bodies lay everywhere, with no ambulances to remove them. People started carting them away with donkeys or horses.
Now, I’m seven months pregnant and need healthy food, which is impossible to get here. The little we can find is too expensive for us. Sometimes, I buy supplements and vitamins at the pharmacy instead of food. I got a package of baby clothes from one of the aid organizations.
My heart breaks for my children. Their school was destroyed, and they’ve already missed an entire academic year. Instead of learning or playing with friends, they’re living in fear and wait in lines at stations for handouts of water and food, and to charge phones. They miss their school, friends and teachers. Here in northern Gaza, we’re surrounded by fear from every direction. Life has drawn to a halt. I try to go out during the day to visit my family and come home as quickly as possible, because I’m afraid of bombings and shooting from quadcopters. Today, I went to the market and came back quickly because I was scared. I bought one onion for 20 shekels [~5.50 USD], one pepper for 5 shekels [~1.50 USD], and two eggplants for 10 shekels [~2.60 USD]. Prices are extremely high, and there are many things we can’t afford.
We’ve been through a year of war, destruction, fear and horror. We’ve held on here in northern Gaza, but we’ve been through indescribable things. Despite the threats and the fear, I’m staying in my home. There’s nowhere to go. To the south, east and west, everywhere is a target for the army, and they make no distinction between civilians and fighters. We are all targets, and the world is watching silently. Every day, people are killed and injured here. Entire families I knew have been erased from the population registry. We’ve lost relatives, friends and neighbors. I’m desperately waiting for good news about my brother Myasarah, just to know he’s alive. Just for him to come back to us safely and for this nightmare war to end.
* Testimony given over the phone to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 3 October 2024
Update: On 6 October 2024, Safaa and her family moved again to her aunt’s house in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood of western Gaza City.