Gaza City – When Israel’s war began, families in Gaza faced the agonizing decision of whether to stay in the north or head south to the advertised “safe zones.” Many women who went south, sometimes alone with young children, were forced to leave their husbands behind, not knowing when their families would be reunited.
Since October, the Israeli army has installed checkpoints on Salah al-Din and al-Rasheed streets – the only major routes connecting northern and southern Gaza – preventing movement between the areas.
The fate of tens of thousands of people displaced from the north to the south remains shrouded in uncertainty. Many long for a quick return to their homes and the loved ones they were forced to leave behind.
Here are three stories from women about forced separation:
‘Will I ever see Abed again? I doubt it’: Raheel
When the conflict began, newlywed Raheel, 27, was heartbroken at the thought of leaving her husband Abdel Kareem, also known as “Abed,” behind in Gaza City. However, Israeli forces promised safe movement south, and her father insisted that she leave.
“I fear wars. My body shakes with every explosion,” Raheel confessed.
She sought refuge at her aunt’s house in Nasser, a neighborhood west of Gaza City. However, on October 13, leaflets from the Israeli army urged civilians to evacuate the city as it planned to “operate significantly” there in the coming days.
Trusting these orders, Raheel’s father insisted that she, her five sisters, two brothers and her mother move south, despite her intention to remain at home in the Tuffah neighborhood. “You should be wherever your sisters are,” he told her.
Although the south was considered safe, Raheel was undecided about leaving the city. Breakdowns in communication meant she was unable to notify her husband who was staying with his elderly parents – they were unable to travel south.
Raheel ended up leaving without being able to say goodbye to Abdel Kareem. “I thought it would only be a matter of time and I will be returning to my home very soon,” she explained. “I didn’t know the war would last so long, with no indication it would end,” adding that “I thought going south would protect me.”
Raheel’s journey south was filled with fear and uncertainty. Moving from Gaza City to Khan Younis, to Rafah, to al-Mawasi and then back to Khan Younis, she faced the hardships of forced displacement and life in overcrowded shelters with scarce resources. With every step away from home, Raheel felt the immense weight of separation from her husband and father. Concern about their loved ones suffering from severe food shortages and arbitrary Israeli attacks and bombings further amplified this despair.
Married just a year before the war, Raheel already dreamed of starting a family. But she came to find solace in not having children amid so much chaos. “I thank God every day that I don’t have a baby to worry about in these conditions. The fear would be unbearable,” she shared.
In June, she learned that her brother-in-law was killed during a military operation in Shujayea, Gaza City. “For the first time, I wished I had stayed in Gaza City to support my husband,” Raheel said. “I feel helpless being so far away. Will I ever see Abed? I doubt it.”
Many nights, when there are interruptions in communication, Raheel lies awake, tears streaming down her face as she holds her phone and prays for a message from her husband or father. The sound of bombs in the distance is a constant reminder of the danger they face. “I can’t describe the pain of not knowing if they are safe or if I will ever see them again,” she said.
Despite dire circumstances, Raheel remains resilient, taking on the role of caretaker and protector for her mother and sisters – even as her own heart breaks. “I have to stay strong for them,” she said. “We have to believe that one day we will be reunited with our loved ones and rebuild our lives.”
‘Not knowing his fate is the hardest part’: Walaa
Walaa, a mother of three, faced a similar dilemma. Urged by her husband to seek safety for their young children, they all fled their home in the Shati refugee camp, also known as Beach Camp, in western Gaza City, to a family member’s home in central Gaza. After enduring relentless bombings, the couple was unsure whether to stay together or separate for safety. On November 14, Walaa took her children south, while her husband Ahmed stayed to care for their injured father.
In southern Gaza, 31-year-old Walaa faced difficulties. She had to become a mother and a father while facing life’s difficulties and scarce resources in southern Gaza.
“No one can take care of my children like their parents,” she said. “Every night they cried, wanting to see their father and ensure his safety. I can’t help but try to calm them down.”
Communications blackouts made it nearly impossible to stay in touch.
Children often ask about their father, and his innocence pierces Walaa’s heart. She tries to comfort them, assuring them that they will soon be reunited, but she herself has doubts. “They tell me they miss their dad, and I tell them I miss him too. But there is nothing we can do,” she said in a desperate tone.
Walaa is often unable to sleep, consumed by worry for her husband. “I feel like a part of me is missing,” she confessed. “Not knowing your destiny is the hardest part.”
After eight months of separation, the idea of meeting her husband became a distant dream. “I feel regret. I regret the day we decided to leave the north,” wailed Walaa.
‘I saw them beat my husband and drag him away’: Doaa
Unlike Walaa and Raheel, Doaa and her husband Abdullah decided to stay in northern Gaza, believing that nowhere was truly safe. They moved from their home near the Port of Gaza to the area near Yarmouk Square in the Jalaa neighborhood.
Despite the advance of Israeli tanks, the couple believed that their civil status would protect them, so they remained in place. “We had no relationship with Hamas or any other party,” Doaa confirmed.
Their hope was dashed when the Israeli army invaded the area, terrorizing women and children, torturing the elderly and kidnapping the men. Where they were, Doaa witnessed Abdullah, his father-in-law and brother-in-law being tortured and taken away.
The memory of that day haunts her. “They invaded without warning,” she said, her voice breaking. “I saw them beat my husband and drag him away. My father-in-law was also taken. We were defenseless.”
For almost 60 days, Doaa had no contact with Abdullah, who was transferred to Israeli prisons. Uncertainty and fear tormented her every day. “The nights were the hardest,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep, imagining all the horrors he could be facing.”
When he was finally released in the south, Doaa and his almost 21-month-old daughter were still in the north. However, the Israeli army did not allow anyone to travel to northern Gaza. “Lolo was almost a year old when he was arrested. I doubt he would recognize her if he saw her,” said Doaa, with tears in her eyes.
Adjusting to the harsh realities of life without him, Doaa became her daughter’s sole caregiver and provider. The responsibility of ensuring Lolo’s safety and well-being was enormous. “I had to be strong for her,” Doaa explained. “There was no other choice.” She depends on her family, with whom she continues to move from place to place, escaping death in northern Gaza.
While Doaa’s heart aches to see her husband soon, she also mourns her beautiful home, lost in the Israeli attacks. Everything, she said, reminds her of her husband.
“We continue because we have to,” Doaa said. “For our children, for our families, we have no other choice.”
This story originally appeared on Aljazeera.com read the full story
