December 9, 2024
My Struggle after Losing My Husband and Having to Take Care of My Children Alone Amid War and Displacement
My Struggle after Losing My Husband and Having to Take Care of My Children Alone Amid War and Displacement

Sireen Ashraf Mahmoud Yassin/Saad (24), widow, mother of three children and resident of Gaza but now displaced in central Gaza Strip.

26 November 2024

I used to live in Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, specifically in the Wadi Al-‘Arayes area south of Gaza City, in a single-story house that was completely destroyed by Israeli airstrikes. I have three children: Yazan (15), Sidra (12), and Zeina (5). I was married to ‘Atallah Sobhi Saadi Yassin (35), who was a construction worker and killed during the ongoing Israeli war.

On Saturday morning, 07 October 2023, I was preparing my children for school when suddenly rockets were being launched from all directions. I prevented them from leaving the house and we stayed home, frightened and shocked wondering what would happen. My husband stepped outside to check the situation and follow the unfolding news when he was targeted by an Israeli airstrike and instantly killed.

Later, the Israeli forces pounded the entire Gaza Strip with airstrike, and from the very first day, IOF began sending messages through COGAT’s social accounts, ordering us to evacuate our homes and move to certain areas in Gaza, claiming they were safe zones away from bombardment and destruction. But their missiles spared no one, targeting everyone indiscriminately. At sunset, phone calls blasted our phones, with threats from Israeli officers ordering us to leave. I left with my husband’s family, who also lost their home, and about 50 of us took refuge in the streets, sleeping on the ground for the night. The following morning, we returned home, as there was nowhere else to go. On the third night of the war, Monday, 09 October 2023, Israeli warplanes launched a barrage of heavy airstrikes, targeting homes and streets in our area. My house and my husband’s family home were struck directly and my house collapsed on top of us. My husband’s family managed to pull me and my children from the rubble, but my son Yazan remained trapped for three days. On the fourth day, rescue crews retrieved him and transferred him to Al-Maamadani Hospital. He had sustained fractures in his leg, requiring an internal platinum implant. Yazan already suffered from osteoporosis before the war. He spent two days in ICU due to the dust and debris caused by the missiles affecting his chest. After his discharge, we moved to Al-Rimal and stayed at the Al-Noor Center near Patient’s Friends Hospital for two weeks. The bombings intensified with each passing day, worsening our suffering and increasing the danger. No one was spared from the airstrikes and killings. Two weeks later, the center where we sought shelter was bombed, killing over 50 people, most of them women and children. The scene was horrific, with scattered body parts and hundreds of wounded lying on the ground. Terrified, we fled and sought refuge at Al-Falah School in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, where we stayed for a week. On 03 November 2023, the school was also bombed in a massacre unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Two Israeli warplane missiles struck the school, which was sheltering thousands of displaced people from across Gaza. Over 100 people were killed, their bodies torn in pieces and burned before our eyes. Children and women’s bodies were scattered everywhere across the schoolyard. Rescue efforts were desperate, with the injured being carried on carts and tuk-tuks because ambulances couldn’t reach the site due to ongoing direct attacks on emergency vehicles. After witnessing this nightmare, I left the school with my children and headed to my husband’s family home in Al-Zaytoun, where we stayed for a few days. Eventually, I decided to move south, seeking refuge after narrowly escaping death at every turn.

On 18 November 2023, at 10:00, I crossed Netzarim checkpoint with my three children toward the central Gaza Strip. I had no idea where to go or who to turn to. We had no money, no belongings, and nothing to carry with us; we left everything behind—our clothes, blankets, and mattresses—buried under the rubble of our completely destroyed home. We left only to survive, fleeing the bombing and death. I headed to Al-Bureij refugee camp, searching for a school or shelter, when a man from the camp saw me. He offered me and my children refuge in a small front shop in his home and provided us with food and water for two consecutive days. When a nearby house was bombed, I left the area, walking with my children along Salah Al-Din Street, searching for a tent or shelter. We walked for two full days until we reached the Bani Suhaila junction on foot. At night, we would sleep on the roadside, lying on the ground until morning. On the third day, we returned on foot to Al-Maghazi Camp and stayed at Al-Maghazi Girls’ Preparatory School “A” enduring hellish conditions. The school was overcrowded with displaced families, lacking basic services and humanitarian aid. We stayed there from 21 November 2023 until 30 December 2023. On that day, the Israeli forces began shelling and launching a ground invasion of Al-Maghazi. Bombs targeted homes, mosques, and other buildings, inflicting a sheer number of casualties. Residents and displaced families fled the camp in terror as tanks reached the Sadqi intersection, which was very close to the school where my children and I were staying. Shelling intensified around us, and we escaped immediately, heading toward Rafah. We walked for half the distance from 09:00 until we reached Rafah at 17:00, exhausted and overwhelmed with hunger and thirst. We had no money, food, clothing, or blankets. We eventually arrived at Badr Mosque near Al-Najma Roundabout. I stayed in the mosque with my children, and some displaced people there built a small tent for us and provided some clothes, blankets, and mattresses. However, I struggled with the lack of food and the inability to meet my children’s needs, relying solely on donations from others sheltering in the mosque. We remained like that until 03 March 2024, when I received a phone call informing me that five of my late husband’s nephews—Rami Saadi Yassin (15), Mohammed Saadi Yassin (13), Ahmed Saadi Yassin (12), Mohammed Ahmed Yassin (15), and Moataz Ahmed Yassin (11)—had been released from Israeli detention. The children’s physical and psychological conditions were severe; they had bruises, injuries, and no one to care for them in the south, as their families remained in the north. This added significantly to my responsibilities, as I became their sole caregiver in addition to looking after my own children.

We stayed in Rafah until the Israeli forces threatened to invade Rafah and bomb it. People began leaving the city in an indescribable scene, fleeing the bombing and killing. On 05 May 2024, I left with my children and my husband’s nephews. Only few hours after we left, the mosque was bombed. I returned to Al-Maghazi refugee camp once again and started searching for shelter until I stayed in Al-Maghazi Girls’ (C) Preparatory School. Here, we share a classroom with three other families, and I live in extremely difficult conditions. I have no provider and no money to support my children since my husband was killed. To this day, we survive on food provided by charitable people through public kitchens, but some days we eat, and other days we go without food. I am also no longer able to meet even the basic needs of my children and my husband’s nephews.