The Displaced of Northern Gaza: Voices from the Brink of Destruction.


Gaza: As the sun sets over Gaza’s devastated landscape, the horrific echoes of war continue to reverberate across the northern regions. For more than a month, since October 5, Israeli forces have relentlessly bombarded and invaded northern Gaza, reducing entire neighborhoods to rubble, forcing over two million residents to flee their homes.

According to Palestine News and Information Agency – WAFA, the casualties have been staggering, with thousands killed or wounded, the majority of them women and children. In the midst of this chaos, the displaced people of northern Gaza are telling stories of unimaginable suffering, fear, and loss.

The once-thriving towns of Jabalia, Beit Lahiya, and Beit Hanoun are now ghost towns, their streets littered with the debris of homes, schools, and hospitals. Thousands of families have been displaced by the continuous airstrikes, artillery shelling, and drone attacks, leaving them with nowhere to turn but to flee further south, where the situation is barely better.

One such
displaced resident, 48-year-old Said Abu Sharakh, spoke with WAFA near the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, a city in central Gaza that has become a temporary refuge for those escaping the carnage in the north. “I had to leave Beit Lahiya with my family after the Israeli airstrikes destroyed everything in our town,” said Abu Sharakh, his voice heavy with grief.

He recounted the horrors he witnessed as Israeli forces set up military checkpoints at the outskirts of Jabalia, subjecting the displaced to intense scrutiny and abuse. “Women, children, everyone was forced to go through hours of interrogation. Some were beaten, others detained. We barely managed to cross the checkpoint, and many weren’t allowed through.”

Abu Sharakh’s account paints a chilling picture of the journey south. “Along the way, we saw bodies lying in the streets, dismembered remains scattered everywhere. Some of the wounded were unable to be rescued because the ambulance teams couldn’t reach them due to the ongoing shelling and
drone strikes.”

Despite these risks, Abu Sharakh’s family, like many others, was forced to leave in search of safety. He noted that some of his neighbors had not been as fortunate. “Many families have been wiped out, entire households reduced to ashes. My own brother was among those who died, and we couldn’t even get to him in time to bury him properly. He lies under the rubble,” he said, his eyes brimming with tears.

Another displaced person, 35-year-old Yusuf Khaleel, had been living with his wife and three children near the Kamel Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya before the bombing made it too dangerous to stay.

“For 30 days, we lived in terror. The bombs never stopped, the drones never ceased. We would hear the screams of those who were killed, but there was nothing we could do. Ambulance teams were unable to reach the victims because of the constant bombardment,” he recounted to WAFA.

Khaleel’s family survived the ordeal, but not without harrowing experiences. “On our way out, we saw the bodies of civili
ans in the streets, some torn to pieces. The stench was unbearable, and wild dogs were feeding on the remains,” he said. Once they reached an Israeli checkpoint, they were detained for hours, interrogated, and mistreated. Some of the young men in his group were arrested, while others, including Khaleel, were forced to head south toward Gaza City.

“I don’t know how we made it here. It was a miracle,” he added, his voice cracking. “But the suffering doesn’t end. We’re still in danger here.”

Maryam Awadiya, who fled from Beit Hanoun with her children, shared her own heart-wrenching story. “We had no choice but to leave when the airstrikes intensified,” she said. Initially, the family sought refuge at a local school, but before they could reach safety, Israeli drones dropped leaflets instructing the residents to evacuate the area.

“The road was full of checkpoints, and the tanks were everywhere. We couldn’t even find basic supplies for the children – no milk, no diapers,” Awadiya recounted, her voice tinged wi
th frustration. “It was a constant struggle to survive, and everywhere we looked, there was only death and destruction.”

As the war enters its second year, the displaced are finding it increasingly difficult to survive. The United Nations’ humanitarian coordinator for Palestine, Muhannad Hadi, recently visited the region and described the situation as “beyond words.”

“This is no place for human life to persist,” Hadi said, visibly shaken by the conditions he witnessed. “The people here are living in conditions that no one should have to endure. These are the victims of war – children, women, the elderly. This must end.”

The numbers are staggering. More than 10,000 people are missing, and tens of thousands remain trapped under the rubble of collapsed buildings, unable to receive aid. Despite multiple calls for international intervention, Israel has continued its bombardment, violating UN Security Council resolutions and ignoring the directives of the International Court of Justice, which called for measures
to prevent genocide and improve the dire humanitarian conditions in Gaza.

The displaced are now taking refuge wherever they can: in schools, with relatives, or in makeshift camps made from tarpaulins and tents. The United Nations reports that there are now over 1,500 people living in a school that once housed only 500, with food and clean water in short supply.

The most basic human needs-food, water, medical supplies-are scarce, and diseases are spreading rapidly. Children are dying not only from the bombs but from preventable illnesses caused by the lack of sanitation.

The toll on Gaza’s children has been particularly devastating. As the Israeli assault rages on, it is clear that this war is not only destroying buildings but also the very fabric of society. The displaced families of Gaza-who have lost everything-are now struggling to survive in an environment where hope seems to be fading with each passing day.