March
27, 2024
The
European Hospital near Khan Younis is overflowing with thousands of
Palestinians displaced and wounded by Israel’s war on the Gaza Strip, which is
now approaching its seventh month. Both the hospital’s corridors and its
courtyard outside are filled with tents, the people’s suffering apparent for
all to see. There are no verified figures on the exact number of people here —
the hospital estimates about 30,000 people are crowded in the premises — but
the families are clearly facing immense difficulties in obtaining the most
basic needs, with the hospital ill-equipped to serve as a massive makeshift
shelter.
But
despite the horrors of the war, the Palestinians here are trying their best to
mark the holy month of Ramadan, with Eid al-Fitr approaching in two weeks’
time. Families and hospital staff have put up some decorations and distributed
them to children to adorn the tents and corridors, hoping to create a festive
atmosphere amid their horrid conditions.
“Despite
the wounds, martyrs, war, and destruction on our children, women, and elderly,
we are still steadfast and trying to celebrate the advent of the fasting
month,” said Jamal Al-Masry, 55, who had to flee his home in Al-Shati refugee
camp and seek shelter at the European Hospital.
Hala
Ghaben, 53, who was displaced from the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood of Gaza City,
said that her son had initially set out for the city of Rafah to try and sell
Ramadan decorations in order to get some money to buy food for the family.
However, “when he saw the children [look at the decorations], he decided not to
sell them, but to give them to the kids for free and make them happy.”
The
effort to bring some sense of festivity has been extremely difficult. Many
adults in the hospital expressed feeling deeply despondent of experiencing
Ramadan far from their homes, many of which are now destroyed, while being
separated from many members of their families, some of whom have been killed or
badly injured during the war. The absence of food and clean water, with months
of widespread malnutrition and starvation, has made this fasting season even
more challenging to endure.
Yet
many children here, while missing their homes and former lives, have been glad
not to be deprived of some joyful scenes. And everyone here, young and old, is
holding out hope that this month will finally bring about salvation from the
terrible war.
‘I
lost my dreams, my home home, my childhood’
“The
month of Ramadan was the most beautiful time of the year,” lamented Ghaben.
“Family gatherings, tables full of food and decorated for iftar. We’d go to the
mall to shop, or order delicious meals from restaurants and take them to the
seaside to break our fast there.”
Now,
however, many of Ghaben’s family members have been scattered by the war, barely
knowing each other’s whereabouts. “The displaced people around us are in a
state of great sadness and tragedy. We miss gathering with neighbors and
friends for tarawih prayers (an evening prayer during Ramadan). I lost my
kitchen, in which I used to spend more than four hours preparing the most
delicious food. Now I am in a tent and sitting on the sand. I do not have
enough kitchen utensils. There is only canned food, because the prices have
become so expensive.”
When
the war began, Ghaben was in Egypt for medical treatment for her back.
Communication with her children and grandchildren in Gaza City were constantly
disrupted, till they eventually fled southward to Khan Younis, where Ghaben met
them after re-entering Gaza during the week-long truce at the end of November.
They found no place to shelter except for the European Hospital, where they
have set up tents in the hospital garden.
“I
was shocked by the situation here,” she said. “There is no water, no food,
nothing. I cannot use the bathroom because of the long lines of people waiting.
We cannot relieve ourselves like normal people. We are deprived of everything.
Unfortunately, many of the displaced people here urinate on themselves because
there are not enough bathrooms in the hospital.”
Most
of the tents in the hospital are narrow, she pointed out, “not enough for ten
people to sleep in. I sit all day at the entrance of the tent, staring at
people’s faces. Sometimes people pass by carrying martyrs. We lost our ability
to cry because our hearts have exploded from the pain. We do not feel safe.
Every day we hear shelling and shells from Israeli tanks. Many missiles are
dropped near the hospital, spurting sand out of the ground like a volcano.”
As
a result, Ghaben said sorrowfully, “What we are experiencing are the worst
moments of our lives on what used to be the most beautiful days of the year … I
had hopes of returning to my home in Sheikh Radwan. Every day I wait for news
of successful ceasefire negotiations, because life in a tent is impossible.”
Khalil
Abu Hasaneen, Ghaben’s 13-year-old grandson, is overwhelmed by the agony of the
war. “I lost everything in this war — my dreams, my home, my childhood,” he
said. “I spend my time searching for water and waiting for food, watching the
injured and the martyred. We left our home because of the intense bombing, and
we moved to my grandparents’ place, and then to Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City.
But when we saw the Israeli army leaflets ordering everyone to move south, we
fled to the European Hospital.
“I
live a life of humiliation, oppression, and persecution in this hospital,”
Khalil continued. “Before the war, we ate chicken and drank fresh water. I
loved studying and making many friends. But this war made me eat canned food
and drink salty water, and [it] killed my friends and loved ones. We want to
return to Gaza City. I miss my home and life there.”
When
I asked him about celebrating the holy month, Khalil said: “There is no Ramadan
atmosphere. Life in the hospital is non-existent. But I have to bear the
hardships. I have no choice. We were accustomed to different family rituals in
our homes; I miss the decorations and lanterns. Gaza during Ramadan was
beautiful, but the war destroyed everything.”
Even
as he tries to hold out some positive spirit for Ramadan, Al-Masry, from
Al-Shati, cannot escape the sadness and fear that has consumed people in Gaza.
“As a father and grandfather, I cannot provide my family with the simplest
needs of life, such as food and water,” he said. “There is no place to relieve
yourself in the hospital. The overcrowding is frustrating. Everyone’s faces are
sad, with no hope for life as the war continues. The hospital cannot be a
shelter for thousands — it can hardly provide medical services to the sick and
wounded.”
Al-Masry
fondly remembers the Ramadan rituals enjoyed before the war, including suhoor
(breakfast before the fast begins at dawn), shopping for food and clothes in
the local markets, and spending hours searching for sweets and drinks. But in
the hospital, it takes a lot of effort to feel that it is Ramadan. “We must get
used to these conditions, even though they are very difficult. But we are a
people who love life and wish for happiness and security. Perhaps it will be a
good month that will bring an end to this war.”
‘I
can’t leave my job — it’s a great
responsibility’
Meanwhile,
the European Hospital has been struggling to carry out its most basic
operations, let alone provide for the thousands of people now sheltering in its
facilities. This has gotten even more difficult given that most of Gaza’s
hospitals, including the nearby Nasser Medical Hospital, have been forced to
close due to the heavy Israeli bombardments, ground raids, and ongoing siege
that has depleted vital resources, from medical supplies to electricity.
“We
are working day and night to treat patients,” said Dr. Omar Khattab, a
37-year-old pediatric surgeon from Khan Younis. “The overcrowding here
negatively affects the quality and speed of our work. We cannot move quickly
through the corridors due to the people and the tents. When patients are
treated and need to be discharged, they refuse to leave because their homes or
neighborhoods are either demolished or still dangerous, and so they stay with
their families at the hospital. It’s their only place of shelter.”
The
strains of the war have taken their toll on Khattab personally. “Because I work
long hours and was very worried about my wife and three children, I asked them
to take refuge in the hospital, so now we all sleep in the doctors’ room. I
can’t leave my job — I feel that it is a great responsibility.
“Many
of the wounded children here have multiple health problems,” he continued.
“There are children who suffer from malnutrition and pollution. We are working
with the simplest equipment despite the desperate need for further treatment
and follow-ups, but the hospital cannot help with that. The hospital area is
also not safe, because we hear the sounds of tank shells from time to time, in
addition to the missiles that target the area.”
As
for Ramadan, he said, “It is painful to spend this month away from our
families. I am accustomed to having iftar with my father and mother.
Unfortunately, they were displaced to a tent in Rafah, and I cannot leave my
work to be with them.”
The
director of the European Hospital, Yousef Al-Akkad, similarly noted the
unbearable pressures on the hospital as the last, large functioning health
facility in the area. The overload of patients has forced the staff to place
them in hospital wings that are not set up to meet their urgent medical needs,
with some patients having no choice but to lay on the floor because of the lack
of beds. “We have a shortage of medical supplies and medications, such as
anesthesia, antibiotics, pain inhibitors, and dialysis medications,” he added.
“What we provide is the minimum healthcare.”
On
top of all this, Al-Akkad noted that the acute shortage of food, clean water,
and electricity to provide for the displaced masses as well as the patients.
Without any homes, he said, the displaced “consider the hospital safer, even
though there is no safe place in Gaza.”
The
European Hospital’s staff, meanwhile, are extremely burned out. “We are in the
sixth month of the war. The health teams, doctors, nurses, and all workers are
so tired that it is impossible to continue the service as required,” Al-Akkad
explained. “They have a lot of duties toward their families. Some of them are
displaced inside the hospital, and others are living in tents in Al-Mawasi [a
nearby coastal plain now serving as a mass encampment], and they need to check
on their families. This makes them physically and psychologically exhausted,
and they need all our support.”
Given
all this, Al-Akkad warned, the hospital “may totally collapse soon. Hundreds of
wounded people have finished their treatment period and have been asked to
leave the hospital, but they have nowhere to go. Many can’t stay in tents due
to their medical conditions. Some patients are from the northern parts of the
Gaza Strip, and cannot return due to the presence of Israeli army checkpoints
that do not allow them to pass through.”
All
the while, Al-Akkad added, the hospital remains under the constant threat of
Israeli incursions or besiegement, as experienced by other hospitals throughout
Gaza, which may force it to shut down and turn away the wounded, sick, and
displaced. “But we hope that does not happen,” he prayed.
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