A 55-year-old father of four, including an 11-year-old boy, from Jabalya R.C., spoke about the family’s escape to Rafah and the difficulties surviving in the shadow of the war
My wife and our son Mustafa, 11, live in an apartment in the refugee camp. Our other three sons are already married. Since the war started, on 7 October 2023, we’ve been hearing bombings all over the camp, and also in Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahiya. Every bomb made the whole building shake, and we felt the apartment was going to collapse on top of us. The windows shook. There was no power and barely any water. There was barely any internet access too. We heard the reports of the dead and wounded when houses got bombed every day. Entire families were killed inside their homes without any warning. People who had fled from other areas in the northern Gaza Strip crowded in every apartment and house along with the household members because at first, the camp was considered safer. In many apartments, 30 people were crammed in together.
After a few days, everyone living in the northern Gaza Strip was told to move south to the Wadi Gaza area in the center of the Strip, or farther south to Rafah and Khan Yunis. My wife, our son Mustafa, and I went with our two older sons, Muhammad and his wife and Ahmad and his wife and two young kids, to our son Khaled’s apartment in Rafah. He lives with his wife and their four young children. We took just a few clothes, some other belongings and blankets.
In the morning, in Rafah, I went out to buy bread. There were several bakeries there and all of them had a long line. I went from bakery to bakery, until I found the shortest line - 80-90 people. I stood there from 10:00 A.M. to 3:00 P.M. and managed to buy a bag of 30-40 small pitas. I was exhausted coming back, dragging my feet after five hours of standing in line, terrified, hearing bombings all around. It’s been like this every day since. I go out to buy bread and water for everything we need. There are 14 of us in the apartment now, and there’s no running water. There is also no power and there’s no diesel or gasoline to run a generator. We bought water from suppliers who bring it from reservoirs or wells here and there.
Life is unbearable right now. We’re just surviving. Every time we fall asleep, the bombs wake us up. As soon as it gets dark, fear engulfs us. It’s impossible to turn a light on. There’s not a soul on the street, only ambulances every now and then, after houses get bombed. We constantly hear observation planes and F-16s flying above us.
* Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah