Gaza:
Suffering unbearable loss, with no time to grieve
Eman’s parents were resolute in their decision not to leave the north of Gaza following 7 October 2023. When the Israeli military issued relocation orders, they felt they had no other choice than to head to the south. “We convinced them to leave,” says Eman.
“I wish we hadn't.”
Once they settled with relatives in the south, the house they were staying in was shelled. Both Eman’s parents, her brother, and 6-year-old niece were killed.
“We followed instructions, and they still targeted the house.”
Eman is one of the Norwegian Refugee Council’s (NRC) site management officers in Gaza. Until November 2023, she lived with her husband and four children in the north.
Eman, right, speaks with our Secretary General on his trip to Rafah in February 2024.
“I didn’t want to go to an unfamiliar place,” she says. “But it reached a point where I could no longer feed my children. I had money in the bank but no means of cashing it, since there were no working ATMs or banks. Even if I had cash, there was nothing in the market to buy.”
For almost a week, Eman had to boil undrinkable water and mask its taste with tea to quench her children’s thirst.
They felt tormented by the sound of shelling and the foreboding hum of Israeli tanks as they traversed the streets.
“It was as if we had travelled back in time.”
Her decision to head south was made final when her house was shelled, and her sister was critically injured. With no means to call for help, they waited three hours after she was injured and bleeding profusely to secure an ambulance.
“We had to stand in the street and wave down an ambulance” she explains. “They would patrol the streets calling out: ‘Is anyone injured? Does anyone need help?’ It was as if we had travelled back in time.”
Eman, right, speaks with our Secretary General on his trip to Rafah in February 2024.
Eman, right, speaks with our Secretary General on his trip to Rafah in February 2024.
Through the “safe passage”
To cross from Gaza’s north into the south, residents must cross through a newly erected Israeli checkpoint. Eman describes the area as empty and surrounded by tanks, with turnstiles set up in the middle.
The sound of gunfire reverberated as they walked toward the turnstiles.
“There were huge crowds of people at the checkpoint,” she says. “You had to hold your ID card and raise it above your head as you walked through. Then there are machines that scan your face and take your biometrics. If they have nothing on you, you’re allowed to cross to the south, but if they suspect you, then you’re taken away. Thousands of people were taken by the Israelis.”
Eman’s brother was one of them.
For 50 days they had no information about him. For weeks, Eman’s father pleaded with those around him, asking to know if his son was okay.
“He would constantly tell me: ‘I just want to know if he’s okay, that’s all. I just want to know if he’s okay.’”
When her brother was finally released, her father had already been killed.
“We barely recognised him when he came back. He was disfigured from the torture they inflicted on him, and he had lost so much weight. The first thing he did after he got out was to try and call father, to tell him he was okay. He didn’t realise that he would never hear his voice again.”
The assault on Gaza has been raging for more than six months. More than 108,000 people have been killed or injured across the Gaza Strip. Scores of Israeli hostages remain held, while the entire Gaza population faces the risk of famine.
Read more about the situation in Gaza.
Rafah exceeds capacity
Once Eman and her family reached Gaza’s southernmost city, Rafah, and settled in NRC’s guesthouse, things gradually became better.
Eman explains that Rafah is more like a village than a city in many ways, and lacks the infrastructure needed to house the 1.5 million people now residing there.
“There is not a single patch of empty ground. The streets are full to the brim with tents, stretched tarpaulin, makeshift wooden sheds, or whatever people can find to build a shelter.”
Moving from one place to another in the city is challenging. Overcrowding is increasing travel times, and a 15-minute journey can now take up to two hours.
“People have reached a point of saying ‘I would rather die than live this way.’”
“People are constantly in the streets looking for food, shelter, and water. Prices of products have increased tenfold and, as a result, so has the crime rate. The basics of life have now been lost. Those who can find shelter between walls are experiencing the epitome of luxury.
“Imagine not having a bathroom. Many walk long distances to reach one or find alternatives. Imagine queuing for five hours to use the bathroom. One of my colleagues told me that her entire family had to wear diapers to avoid standing in line.
“People have reached a point of saying ‘I would rather die than live this way.’”
Transmuted experiences of grief
“The fact that I am still alive today is a miracle,” says Eman. “They took out entire neighbourhoods and families.
“Of all the wars we have gone through, nothing has compared to this.”
With Gaza’s civil defence capacity significantly weakened, many people who have been killed in the relentless shelling remain buried under the concrete rubble . Trapped under three layers of concrete, civil defence forces spent three days trying to extract Eman’s parents and brother’s bodies.
“If you walk around the destroyed buildings, you will see the names of those buried beneath written on the walls: ‘here lies so and so’,” describes Eman. “Imagine a woman, helpless, watching her daughter’s body, half buried underneath the rubble, and the other half being consumed by dogs, unable to do anything about it.
“We have not yet had time to grieve, and the worst is yet to come.”
“We have not yet had time to grieve, and the worst is yet to come. I cannot think about the future because it will drive me crazy. Even if we do return, we have nothing to return to. We have lost everything.”
Eman’s three-year-old daughter asks her mother about her daycare: is it still standing, or has it been shelled?
“My three-year-old should not be asking me these questions,” says Eman. “She shouldn’t wonder if they shelled entire neighbourhoods or just one house when she hears an explosion. She shouldn’t be able to recognise how close a warplane is just by the sound it makes, but she does.
“My children used to look forward to Eid [festival following the holy month of Ramadan], but now they just ask me: ‘are we going to make it through Eid without being shelled?’”
Working in extreme circumstances
NRC continues to carry out humanitarian work in Gaza and Eman is now working as part of the site management team. A key part of their work is ensuring that support and safety for people who have been displaced meets the required humanitarian standards. This includes visiting formal and informal shelters and identifying gaps and needs in each. Based on this information, the team determines ways of intervention, whether that includes distributing essential hygiene equipment or cooperating with other organisations to secure food.
“There are so many challenges affecting our work, and some are as simple as not being able to send emails because of the poor internet connection,” says Eman. “Overcrowding makes it extremely difficult for us to reach the sites we need to get to, and procuring items takes time and slows down our response. But we do everything in our power to help people to the best of our ability.”
“I was at my breaking point when NRC told us we’re going to resume our operations,” she adds. “Work is a welcome distraction, and it became my haven.”
The NRC team at our office in Rafah, January 2024. Photo: Yousef Hammash/NRC
The NRC team at our office in Rafah, January 2024. Photo: Yousef Hammash/NRC
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