The Unseen Agony and Endless Suffering

Shaimaa’ al-Shawa, a 30-year-old lawyer at the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights (PCHR).

Since the onset of the war on October 7, 2023, my family and I have endured unimaginable suffering. The situation worsened when Israeli warplanes struck our home near the Rosary Sisters School in the Tal al-Hawa neighbourhood of Gaza City, hitting us without warning. Inside the house were my parents, four brothers, my uncle’s family of eight, and myself.

In the chaos that followed, we desperately tried to call for civil defence and ambulance assistance, only to be told that the relentless bombardment had rendered the area too dangerous for rescue operations. With no other options, we scrambled through the rubble, escaping with only the clothes on our backs amid a storm of explosions and fires. The Israeli airstrikes had obliterated the roof and upper floors of our home, leaving the ground floor where we sheltered severely damaged. The sheer fact that we survived is beyond belief.

Crying and exhausted, I dragged myself to a nearby UNRWA school, just 200 metres from our home, where ambulances could reach us and transport us to al-Quds Hospital. At the hospital, amidst the disbelief of doctors and medics, we received first aid, having narrowly escaped death only to confront new horrors.

We took refuge at al-Quds Hospital, enduring relentless terror and grief. Despite the anguish of losing our home, my father continued his humanitarian work with the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS), the only representative from Gaza on the PRCS executive board. His commitment to aiding war victims offered us some solace, though we missed him dearly as he worked tirelessly under constant bombardment.

As the Israeli attacks intensified around the hospital, shrapnel and bullets pierced the building, resulting in casualties among the 17,000 displaced people seeking shelter there. The Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) ordered the hospital’s evacuation without providing safe corridors or alternative shelter. My father’s efforts to seek help from the PRCS General Administration and the International Committee of the Red Cross proved futile. Despite pleas to the UN Security Council and human rights organisations, the world’s response failed to halt the attacks.

On November 12, 2023, Israeli tanks encircled the hospital, and we were forced to evacuate under heavy fire. As we fled, we faced a new threat: our relative’s house in Gaza City was hit by artillery shells. During the so-called “humanitarian truce” in late November, we were barred from returning to check on our home due to ongoing Israeli military presence and sniper activity.

It became evident that Israel’s strategy was to forcibly displace Gaza’s population. Despite this, we resolved to remain in our city, defiantly rejecting the forced displacement. Since October 13, 2023, when the IOF ordered evacuations to the south, they have continued to target civilians even in those supposedly safe areas, further undermining the claim of safety.

On December 27, 2023, after the Israeli tanks withdrew, my brother ventured back to our home, only to find it in ruins. Our backyard was devastated, and our two cars were destroyed.

The suffering in Gaza defies description. The media and news offer only a fraction of the harsh reality we endure daily. Words fail to capture the depth of our plight as the world remains indifferent to our agony. Our lives are overshadowed by unending grief, pain, and terror amid constant bombardment. We lack water, electricity, and basic necessities, often resorting to collecting rainwater for drinking.

Clinging to life has become a profound struggle. I count myself fortunate to have enough power to send this message, which may be my last. We are trapped in a cycle of criminality and injustice, and the world’s silence and cruelty only deepen our despair.