Amid the chaos of war, untold stories hide in silence, and souls carry pain unseen. One such story belongs to Doha Al-Saifi, a Palestinian mother who lost her four children in a single Israeli airstrike—yet she still stands, bearing witness to injustice and refusing to break.
Doha Ayyoub Yousef Al-Saifi, 33, is a mother with a bachelor’s degree in Media from Al-Aqsa University. She chose to dedicate her life to her four children—Rital (13), Saif Al-Haq (12), Nour Al-Haq (10), and Osama (4)—whom she considered her life’s purpose and the most beautiful investment she could make in this world. Doha lived with her husband, Omar Hamdan Abu Sineinah, 43, in the Al-Zaytoun neighbourhood in eastern Gaza, where she surrounded her children with care, love, and education. She nurtured their skills through clubs and summer activities. But everything changed with the Israeli assault following October 7, 2023.
Despite the intensifying bombardment, growing danger, and repeated evacuation orders, Doha chose to stay in Gaza and not flee south. She remained with her children, determined to protect them, searching for shelter amid the firestorm—moving from schools to relatives’ homes, carrying with her a sleepless fear. Hunger surrounded them, and when food ran out, she starved herself so her children could eat. The children would hide crumbs of bread for their youngest brother, Osama, who could not yet grasp the meaning of hunger or war.
On May 30, 2025—the first day of Eid al-Fitr—Doha took her four children to visit her forcibly displaced sister Asmaa, who was sheltering in Dar Al-Arqam School, in an attempt to create a fleeting moment of joy amid the ruins of war. In one of the classrooms, the children played while Doha watched over them. Moments later, an explosion ripped through the school—an Israeli missile strike.
Everything turned to darkness and dust. Doha couldn’t see. She felt her body thrown through the air, then found herself in the schoolyard. She didn’t scream, didn’t cry—she only searched for Osama. She was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, unable to speak for 25 days. Her body bore severe injuries: a shattered jaw, damage to her left hand, shrapnel embedded in her chest and limbs, and an unhealing pain in her heart.
Doha kept asking for photos of her children, believing they were safe. Her husband and son, Saif Al-Haq, visited and told her everyone was fine and receiving treatment in nearby rooms. But the truth was far worse.
On the sixth day of her recovery, her younger sister broke the news: “Your children are birds in heaven.” Doha couldn’t bear it—but she didn’t scream. She simply wrote on the communication board: “Alhamdulillah… I accept.”
Her four children, her sister Asmaa, and Asmaa’s three daughters had all been killed. Her husband’s sister was left fighting for her life in the hospital. Doha says, “I miss them all… I miss Rital, the first to call me ‘Mama’, my little friend… I didn’t get to say goodbye. Only Rital’s hand was found… and Osama—his head was detached… As for Nour Al-Haq, thank God his body was intact.”
Today, Doha is still undergoing treatment at the Public Services Hospital, receiving physical therapy and surgeries, awaiting a referral for treatment abroad. Yet despite the pain, she has not broken. Her eyes still carry a faint glimmer of hope—a quiet but determined message to the world:
“They didn’t just kill my children. They killed my dreams. But they will never silence my voice. I will keep telling our story—of mothers’ sorrow, of our children who were turned into dust by missiles. I will continue demanding justice, no matter how long it takes.”
