Mustafa Al-Jarou
Editor’s
Note: This reflection was written before the announcement of a ceasefire in
Gaza on January 15, 2025.
First responders and civilians look for survivors amid the rubble of
destroyed buildings following Israeli bombardment in Rafah, in the
southern Gaza Strip, December 14, 2023, (Photo: Bashar Taleb/APA Images)
I was born and
raised in Gaza City in the neighborhood of al-Shuja’iyya, where I learned from
a young age to serve my community. I would volunteer with the Red Cross and
participate in first aid training courses. I was also a social researcher with
local associations in Gaza that were assisting poor families by providing
healthcare services or financial aid. Despite losing everything I owned in this
war, I have not lost my volunteering spirit or my passion for helping others.
Before the war,
life was stable. We had a routine life here in Gaza, just like anyone else in
the world — work, studies, hobbies, friends and family. Everything changed with
the war. Now there is no work, no education, and even stepping outside is
impossible. Nowhere is safe. All we can do is count the days, waiting for a
ceasefire to come into effect and for a permanent end of hostilities.
When the war
began in October 2023, I joined the search and rescue team in al-Shuja’iyya.
Our primary mission is to retrieve the injured from under the rubble and move
them to safety after Israeli bombardments or attacks. Unfortunately, we often
only recover dead bodies instead of survivors.
There are many
of us who jump into action whenever a bomb strikes, whose names you will never
know. First responders who work with minimal resources, sometimes in groups,
sometimes alone, without any advanced equipment to assist us in handling these
complex tasks. Despite this, we do what we can.
Every moment
leaves unforgettable images in my mind: destroyed homes, women standing broken
beside the remnants of their homes, barefoot children running through the
rubble searching for their toys, and elders raising their hands to the heavens,
pleading for mercy. These scenes, despite their harshness, are what push me to
keep going.
‘Uncle, I’m
alive’
One night in
February 2024, we experienced one of the most harrowing moments of the war. We
were huddled in a small room as explosions roared around us, sounding like
relentless rainfall. But it wasn’t raining — it was Israeli bombs, burning
everything in sight. The explosions were so close that I felt my heart would
leap out of my chest from fear. Shelling went on for ten minutes that felt like
an eternity.
When it finally
stopped, we ventured outside to check on our neighbors. What we found was
beyond devastating. Where was the Hassanin family? Where were the Mashharawis?
Their homes were completely leveled, and there was no sign of life.
We began
searching through the rubble, calling out the names of those we knew: “Ali!
Ahmad! Khalil! Is anyone here? Can anyone hear us?”
Suddenly, a
faint voice emerged from the debris: “Uncle, I’m alive… Please get me out… I’m
scared.”
I couldn’t wait
for rescue equipment to arrive. I started digging with my bare hands, ignoring
the rubble and shrapnel scratching and cutting me open. Eventually, I managed
to pull out a child — Mahdi Adas, the sole survivor of three families that were
annihilated on Shuja’iyya Street.
That night left
a deep scar on my soul. The lack of tools made it impossible for us to reach
the bodies of some of the martyrs trapped under the rubble.
The massacre of
Tabaeen
On August 10,
2024, we were waiting for dawn prayers at 4 am in the al-Daraj neighborhood of
Gaza City when we heard a loud and terrifying sound. Israeli forces had bombed
the nearby Tabaeen school.
I was in shock.
I knew that my friend Hassan and his brother Ali had gone to the prayer area in
Tabaeen. I called Hassan; mercifully, he was alive. He said that Israeli forces
had bombed the prayer area and that he couldn’t find Ali.
I went with the
rescue teams to the area to see what we could do. The scene was indescribable.
Martyrs were everywhere; I saw the remains of children and other displaced
people scattered all over. None of their bodies were left intact, pieces of
human flesh were everywhere. At least 80 people were killed that day.
We managed to
help some people get them to the hospital. One boy, around 16 years old, was in
bad shape. His lower body had been crushed and his limbs were mangled. His left
hand was amputated, and his other wounds were deep. I carried him to the
hospital in my arms since the ambulances were full.
The area around
the school was filled with smoke and the sound of crying and screaming.
Ambulances arrived and we began to collect the human remains and place them in
bags. We could not find Ali. Hassan asked what he should do now and how he
should inform his mother of what had happened to Ali. Where did his brother go?
They gave him a
35-kilogram bag of human remains, presumably his brother’s.
This same school
was targeted again on November 27, 2024. Seventeen Palestinians were killed in
an Israeli airstrike that once again hit the school at dawn. Our teams managed
to retrieve 10 bodies, including children, along with several injured individuals.
On every corner,
a memory of horror
The volunteers I
work with have become like family. We live together and support each other
emotionally. The mere presence of people like them provides me with a sense of
safety.
Yet the nature
of our work as first responders is extremely dangerous, as rescue and civil
defense teams have become direct targets of repeated Israeli attacks. There
were many times when the bombings were very close to us, and I truly felt it
was the end. I am still astonished at how I survived certain attacks. Every
time I leave my home, fear grips me — I worry that I may never return to my
family, the only thing I have left from my life before the war. I think about
death often, as if it is near, but I always hope for safety and peace.
Yet this fear
doesn’t stop me from doing my part. How can I sleep at night knowing that there
are neighbors still trapped under the rubble, that some of them might still be
alive? How can I close my eyes while there are lives I could help save? There
might be a soul crying out for help, and I could be the reason they get a
second chance at life. I cannot sit at home waiting for the day a ceasefire
comes into effect to go out, help, and make a difference.
All of this has
put me in a bad psychological state, making me feel despair and lose the
meaning of life. Beneath every stone in Gaza lies an untold story, stories and
scenes related to martyrs, the wounded, and the body parts we retrieve from
beneath the rubble. On every corner, there is the memory of an incident and
horrifying details that cannot be ignored or forgotten. Al-Shuja’iyya has
turned into a ghost town, almost deserted by its people, the area largely
destroyed. These memories will haunt me forever.
No matter how
much I try to find the right words to describe what we are seeing and going
through, it’s never adequate. But I want to share what we are facing, even if
just to feel, in the slightest way, that someone is listening to us.
Right now,
there’s nothing helping us except hope, prayer, and faith.
Juan
Cole
Ann
Arbor (Informed Comment) – It is wonderful news that on Sunday and Monday
Israeli and Palestinian hostages were released as part of the ceasefire deal
brokered by Qatar, Egypt and the United States.
Hamas
released Romi Gonen, 24, kidnapped from the Nova music festival on October 7,
2023. Emily Damari, 28, was kidnapped from her home in the Kibbutz Kfar Aza.
Likewise Doron Steinbrecher, 31, a veterinary nurse, was taken from the same
kibbutz. The delight and relief of their families are the delight and relief of
all of us. Their kidnapping was a war crime, for which — among other things —
Hamas leaders were indicted at the International Criminal Court.
The
Palestinian hostages released by Israel need to be celebrated with just as much
joy and fervor. 90 of them — 69 women and 21 children — had to wait an extra 8
hours for their freedom, while Israeli troops forbade displays of joy by their
friends and relatives outside Ofer Prison, and even attacked them with flash
bombs, and rubber-coated metal bullets.
Many
of the Palestinians let go on Monday just after midnight were prisoners of
conscience, jailed for social media posts just as they might have been in
Russia or Saudi Arabia. Palestinians, being stateless and without citizenship,
do not have the right to have rights. They have no right to free speech. The
sort of idle expression of sentiment on Facebook that barely draws a yawn in
the United States can mean years of confinement.
Al
Jazeera (itself banned in Israel) reported that one of the Palestinian hostages
released was journalist Rula Hassanein. Let us consider her case. The Committee
to Protect Journalists explained that on March 19, Israeli military personnel —
without providing any justification — detained Hassanein, an editor for the
Ramallah-based Wattan Media Network, at her residence in the Al-Ma’asra
neighborhood of Bethlehem in the Palestinian West Bank. She was manacled and
hooded, and had her laptop and cell phone seized. She was then transferred to
Damon Prison, near Haifa.
CPJ
said that Hassanein appeared before the Judea military court, located in Ofer
Prison northwest of Jerusalem, on March 25. She was charged with incitement on
social media and supporting a proscribed organization deemed illegal under
Israeli law.
Remember,
she is a working journalist published in several regional newspapers. She was
arrested for tweeting or retweeting her distress at the Israeli total war on
Gaza. She did not do anything that would be punished with jail time in a
democratic country. She didn’t present a clear and immediate danger of
violence. She is the victim of a brutal foreign military occupation.
ICJ
explained, “The health of Hassanein’s prematurely born daughter Elia, who
suffers from a weak immune system and ulcers on her palms, feet, and mouth, has
declined since her mother’s arrest as she was exclusively breastfed, according
to those sources and medical reports, reviewed by CPJ. Hassanein gave birth
last year to twins, Elia and Youssef, two months early due to health
complications, and lost Youssef three hours after birth, those sources said.”
I
just hope Elia, her daughter, is OK after so many months of separation from her
mother.
Al
Jazeera writes that another released Palestinian hostage, an 18-year-old girl,
had also been arrested for her social media posts. It quotes her mother:
“I’ll hug her right away. Of course, I’ll
hug her. At first, it’ll just be tears of joy…
“They accused her of incitement because of
posts she wrote on Facebook,”
She
called the charges “ridiculous.” And so they were.
Al
Jazeera added, “The father of another young man who hasn’t yet been released
told AFP his son was also arrested for social media activity.”
So
some of the 90 let go today were guilty of using social media while
Palestinian.
Since
Israeli military and prison authorities routinely practice torture, some of
those released bear physical and psychological scars that will haunt them the
rest of their lives, no less than do the released Israeli hostages.
The
Israeli newspaper Arab 48 reported, “In media statements, the female prisoners
spoke about the harsh conditions they endured in Damon Prison, including abuse,
beatings, isolation, and humiliation, which exacerbated their suffering and
added to the pain of imprisonment.”
The
newspaper says that many of the women seemed feeble and unsteady as they got
off the vehicles carrying them.
It
should be remembered that large numbers of Palestinians are taken hostage by
the Israeli military, which lodges no charges against them and provides them
with no opportunity to defend themselves. That is why they are legitimately
called “hostages” rather than prisoners. There is no due process.
Since
American news outlets won’t mention any of these Palestinian hostages or their
ordeal, let me at least give their names here from Al-Sharq. The
transliteration is done by ChatGPT:
Walaa
Khaled Fawzi Tanjeh
Nawal
Mohammed Mahmoud Abd Fteihah
Rawda
Mousa Abdel Qader Abu Ajamiya
Aseel
Osama Omar Shahadeh
Tamara
Moammar Hussein Abu Luban
Nafisa
Rashid Fareed Zorba
Yasmin
Abdul Rahman Rasheed Abu Sarour
Khaleda
Kana’an Mohammed Jarrar
Jenin
Mohammed Taha Amro
Fatima
Nemer Mohammed Rimawi
Zahra
Wahib Abdel Fattah Khadrajj
Fatima
Mohammed Suleiman Saqr
Dalal
Mohammed Suleiman Khoshib
Mona
Ahmed Qasem Abu Hussein
Bushra
Jamal Mohammed Taweel
Raida
Janem Mohammed Abdel Majid
Rana
Jamal Mohammed Eid
Marjana
Mohammed Mustafa Heresh
Halima
Faik Suleiman Abu Amara
Rola
Ibrahim Abdel Rahim Hassanein
Balqees
Issa Ali Zawahreh
Dohaa
Azam Ahmed Al-Wahsh
Shaimaa
Mohammed Abdel Jalil Rawajbeh
Salwa
Atiyah Mahmoud Hamdan
Fatima
Yousef Ali Al-Farakhneh
Roz
Yousef Mohammed Khweis
Haneen
Akram Mahmoud Al-Mas’aeid
Jihad
Ghazi Ahmed Joudeh
Nidaa
Ali Ahmed Zghaybi
Amal
Ziyad Omar Shojaiya
Ayat
Yousef Saleh Mahfouz
Ola
Mahmoud Qasem Joudeh
Lubna
Mazen Saleem Talalwah
Hadeel
Mohammed Hussein Hijaz
Rasha
Ghassan Mohammed Hijjawi
Wafaa
Ahmed Abdullah Nemer
Zeina
Majd Abdel Rahim Barbour
Naheel
Kamal Mustafa Masalmeh
Tihani
Jamal Abdel Ashour
Aya
Omar Yousef Ramadan
Shaimaa
Omar Yousef Ramadan
Israa
Hader Ahmed Ghoneimat
Donia
Ishtayeh Marouf Ishtayeh
Alaa
Jadallah Nabhan Qadi
Khitam
Aref Hassan Khabaybeh
Alaa
Sameer Harb Abu Raheimeh
Aseel
Mohammed Jamal Eid
Shatha
Nawaf Abdel Jabbar Jarab’ah
Bara’a
Hatem Hafez Foqaha
Saja
Imad Saad Daraghmeh
Dania
Saqr Mohammed Hanatsheh
Raghad
Waleed Mahmoud Amro
Raghad
Khader Deeb Mubarak
Al-Yamama
Ibrahim Hassan Al-Hraynat
Ashwaq
Mohammed Eyad Awad
Hanan
Ammar Bilal Malwani
Eman
Ibrahim Ahmed Zeid
Saja
Zuheir Mohammed Al-Maadi
Israr
Abdel Fattah Mohammed Al-Lahham
Maiser
Mohammed Said Al-Faqih
Abeer
Mohammed Hamdan Ba’ara
Samah
Bilal Abdel Rahman Soof
Lateefa
Khaled Ramadan Mashasha’
Margaret
Mohammed Mahmoud Al-Ra’ee
Alaa
Khaled Mohammed Saqr
Israa
Mustafa Mohammed Berri
Lana
Farouq Naeem Fawaleh
Tahreer
Badran Badr Jaber
Abla
Mohammed Othman Abdel Rasool
Fahmi
Mohammed Fahmi Faroukh
Ahmed
Waleed Mohammed Khashan
Jamal
Ibrahim Salama Al-Atimeen
Ahmed
Bashar Jumaa Abu Alya
Mohammed
Anan Fawzi Bashkar
Ibrahim
Sultan Ibrahim Zummar
Abdul
Rahman Amjad Jameel Khedair
Maw’ed
Omar Abdullah Al-Hajj
Essam
Ma’moon Mohammed Abu Diab
Thaer
Ayoub Rasheed Abu Sarah
Qasem
Eyad Mohammed Ja’afreh
Yousef
Jamal Eyad Al-Hraymi
Saeed
Mazeed Saeed Saleem
Mahmoud
Mohammed Dawood Al-Yawat
Firas
Jihad Ahmed Al-Maqdisi
Abdul
Aziz Mohammed Abdul Aziz Atauna
Fadi
Bassam Mohammed Hindi
Osama
Nasser Jubran Abduh Atayah
Ayham
Ali Issa Jaradat
Adam
Khalil Ibrahim Hadrah
Laith
Muhammad Naji Kumail.
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