Deir el-Balah, Gaza Strip – In a small, narrow room with white tiles, a man works diligently each day, standing for long hours above a raised platform with white fabrics hanging from the railings.
For more than a month, Abu Saher al-Maghari has stood atop this platform, gently tending to the bodies arriving at the Al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Hospital in the center of the Strip. Gaza.
This calm-looking 53-year-old man has been wrapping the dead for 15 years in this hospital. But since the Israeli offensive on the Gaza Strip began on October 7, al-Maghari has witnessed a massive influx of bodies, many of them mutilated.
Asked about the bodies he saw, al-Maghari began to cry.
“I have never experienced such a difficult time in my life,” al-Maghari said, wiping tears from his white beard.
“Throughout my years of work, I used to hide between 30 and a maximum of 50 natural deaths daily, and in the case of previous Israeli military escalations, this number could reach around 60,” recalls he.
Today it envelops about 100 bodies, and sometimes this number can reach 200, depending on the intensity of the bombings and the areas targeted by Israeli warplanes.
“Most of the bodies arrive at the hospital in a very bad condition,” al-Maghari said. “Torn limbs, severe bruises and deep wounds all over the body. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
“My heart breaks because of the children’s torn limbs”
The largest number of victims he receives are children and women, and the nature of their injuries and injuries is unknown to him.
“What saddens me most is wrapping up the children,” al-Maghari said. “My heart breaks as I collect the children’s torn limbs and place them in a single shroud. What did they do?”
Over the past 34 days, more than 10,800 Palestinians have been killed in Israeli attacks on the Gaza Strip.
This number includes more than 4,400 children and 2,900 women, leading the United Nations Secretary-General to call Gaza a “graveyard” for children.
According to Mohammed al-Hajj, a spokesperson for the hospital, the bodies of at least 2,476 Palestinians have arrived at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital since the start of the war on Gaza.
The hospital had a capacity of 200 beds before the war, but was forced to add more due to the more than 5,300 wounded who arrived at the hospital over the past month, al-Hajj said.
“We increased the capacity to 431 beds, which presented us with a dilemma and a challenge in terms of managing this expansion,” he said.
Al-Maghari, who sometimes works with an assistant, wrapped the bodies that arrived at the hospital.
“I start my day by wrapping the dead and the killed from six in the morning until eight in the evening without stopping,” he told Al Jazeera after setting aside time for the prayer of afternoon.
Some of the arriving bodies are already in an advanced state of decomposition with visible bones and an unbearable odor after spending days under the rubble of bombed buildings.
Other bodies arrive in pieces, some burned beyond recognition, al-Mahgari said. It’s something new, he said. The injuries are so unfamiliar to him that he wonders if the nature of the missiles and explosives used in the Israeli attacks is different from what came before.
Farewell moments – heartbreaking and cruel
Despite the daily horrors, al-Maghari continues to do his job as always. He said he strongly believed that family members should have the right to say goodbye to their loved ones.
“My mission presents me with a great challenge,” he said. “The parents outside are going crazy with grief, screaming and crying for their child. So I try to be as compassionate as possible and work to make bodies presentable so they can say goodbye.
Al-Maghari focuses on the general appearance of the dead, wiping away blood and dust, then writing their names on their shrouds.
Surviving family members are particularly shocked to see the torn body parts of their loved ones, which he carefully places in a shroud.
“These final goodbye moments are always heartbreaking and cruel,” he said. “Sometimes I get featureless bodies, because of the shrapnel. Here I tie the shroud to prevent family members from remembering their loved ones in such a graphic state.
Often, he has to wrap the bodies in ambulances that arrive at the hospital because it is simply too difficult to transport the dismembered body parts to his work space to wash and wrap them.
Al-Maghari said the number of bodies arriving at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital doubled after the mass displacement of residents from Gaza City to towns in the southern Gaza Strip, which increased after on October 13.
“Every day, women, men and children, all civilians, are killed in Israeli attacks on their homes or public places or while traveling south,” he said.
“No time to cry”
Al-Maghari believes that discussing the harmful consequences of this work on one’s mental health is a “luxury” in light of the catastrophic conditions facing the health sector.
“Dealing with this number of torn and burned bodies, mostly children, requires a high level of psychological strength that not all human beings possess,” he said. “I face a real test every day. We don’t have time to cry or break down at the same time, but we’re only human.
Al-Maghari’s work in these dangerous conditions does not give him the opportunity to think about his family, who live in the Nuseirat refugee camp in the center of Gaza City.
“Like all parents, I am afraid for my family, but I can barely communicate with them or be reassured,” explains this father of five children.
“When I go home, I am unable to talk to my family,” he added. “All I ask them is to leave me alone, even if they miss me. It’s out of my control.
As the Israeli bombing and ground offensive continues, he knows there is a possibility that Israeli strikes will hit closer to home.
“I often imagine that my children could be among the victims I will surround at any moment,” al-Maghari said. “Everyone is targeted, without exception. »