Khan Younis, Gaza Strip, Palestine – With a heavy heart, sharp eyes and trembling hands, Abu Muhammed Ghaith meticulously searched through the thick nylon bags used as makeshift shrouds for those killed in Gaza. Inside the morgue of Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, in the south of the country, he hoped to find traces of his missing son. Instead, he encountered only unidentified body parts and fragmented remains.
The vision left him crumpled to the ground, overcome with grief and exhaustion. Still, he gathered his strength and continued searching for any trace of 17-year-old Muhammed, shifting his attention from bodies to personal items: a pair of sandals patched with yellow plastic or an orange sweater, a black jacket, pants tracksuit – anything. it could belong to his son.
“Has anyone seen a patched sandal with a yellow sole? Please, if you find him, let me know,” Abu Muhammed pleaded with others who, like him, had come to the morgue early Tuesday to look for their loved ones among the remains of dozens of bodies that the Palestinian Civil Defense had recovered. under the rubble of Rafah, south of Khan Younis, on the Egyptian border. Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees and leaned against the wall. “I’m no longer looking for his body, just his sandal. Do you see where we are? » he muttered, a mixture of sorrow and helplessness in his voice.
A ceasefire that took effect Sunday between Israel and Hamas allowed hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to return to their mostly demolished homes in Rafah and elsewhere in the Strip. Incessant bombing over the past 15 months has forced nearly 2 million Palestinians to move into Gaza, many without the ability to properly recover the bodies of their loved ones who perished under the bombing and rubble.
Devastated infrastructure and Israel’s targeting of ambulances and civil defense also hampered their ability to reach bomb-hit sites.
Muhammed has been missing since November. He had left the family’s displaced camp in al-Mawasi for what he said would be a quick trip to collect their belongings from their home in Rafah.
He never came back.
Abu Muhammed is certain that his son was killed by Israeli gunfire or shelling while trying to return home. “He wanted to take some of our things and go back to camp. But he didn’t bring anything back, and he didn’t come back either,” he told Tel Aviv Tribune.
“A few bones”
In the days following the partial withdrawal of the Israeli army from Rafah, local rescue teams and medical personnel recovered dozens of remains and body parts, which were transported to the Nasser and European hospitals in Khan Younis for identification. With the news circulating, families whose loved ones have disappeared have flocked to these sites, hoping to find a solution.
For Abu Muhammed, it was his last hope of finding his son.
Since the day he disappeared, Abu Muhammed has spared no effort in searching for him. He contacted the Red Cross, the Ministry of Health and anyone who could help. He even returned to his destroyed house in Rafah, searching through the rubble. “I looked everywhere. Her mother is on the verge of losing her mind and her sisters are desperate for answers,” he said.
The war has killed around 47,000 people, according to Gaza’s health ministry. However, the world-renowned medical journal Lancet expects the actual number of deaths to be 41% higher than the reported toll.
In May, the United Nations humanitarian organization OCHA said that more than 10,000 people were buried under rubble in Gaza, adding that it could take up to three years to recover these bodies, given the very rudimentary tools available in the area. .
After hours of searching the rubble of his destroyed home in Rafah, a heartbroken Faraj Abu Mohsen found no trace of his son. On his way back to Khan Younis, where his family is displaced, the 42-year-old found body parts and torn clothes about 200 meters from the ruins of his house – items he recognized as belonging to his son.
“I had given up hope of finding him alive. On the way back to Khan Younis after searching all day, my foot hit some bones. I pushed them aside and discovered the clothes belonging to my son: his black shirt, blue pants and sneakers. I knew it was him,” Faraj recalls sadly. He gathered the remains into a bag, buried what he could, and promised to return for more.
“None of us imagined that all we would have left of him would be just a few bones,” he said, his voice heavy with grief.
Identification challenges
Inside and outside the Nasser Hospital morgue, a heartbreaking scene unfolded. Desperate families described physical or clothing characteristics in the hope of identifying their loved ones.
“My son recently had a dental implant,” one mother said.
Another father shouted: “He was wearing blue jeans. »
Others talked about height, build or unique items like a cowboy hat or patched sandal.
Adding to the pain were the austere inscriptions written on the shrouds: “Skull without lower jaw”, “Bone fragments”, “Rib cage” or “Upper and lower limbs”. Instead of names and ages, medical teams documented details of Palestinians killed by Israeli artillery to help families identify the remains. Alongside these notes were descriptions of personal items found with the remains – damaged rings, watches, shoes or ID cards.
The lack of DNA testing capacity in Gaza is significantly hampering identification efforts, said Dr. Ahmed Dhahir, a forensic consultant with Gaza’s Ministry of Health, adding that Israel has long restricted the entry of DNA testing equipment. DNA testing in the band. “Without this technology, many bodies remain unidentified, leaving families in perpetual anguish,” he said.
Dr. Dhahir described the identification process: the remains are first recovered by rescue teams, then examined and documented. Details such as pickup location, date and any personal items are recorded. Given the condition these bodies were found in, forensic experts rely heavily on circumstantial evidence, such as clothing or personal belongings, to guide families.
“We are following legal protocol by keeping the bodies for up to 48 hours to allow families to identify them. After this, the remains are buried by the Ministry of Endowments and Civil Defense in a designated cemetery, with specific numbers and records kept for possible future identification if testing equipment becomes available,” Dr Dharir said.
He also noted that a third of the remains found so far in Rafah – around 150 cases – remain unidentified.
“The most difficult cases are those involving partial remains: a skull, leg bones or rib cage fragments. These are carefully numbered and catalogued, but without DNA testing, definitive identification is often impossible,” he added.
Families in the dark
Current forensic resources in Gaza are limited, with only three specialists available in the southern region and none in the north, Dr. Dhahir explained, adding that this shortage was straining an already overwhelmed system, especially with the large volume of remains found following Israeli attacks.
For families like Abu Muhammed’s, the inability to locate or identify their loved ones prolongs their grief. “We just want to know his fate,” Abu Muhammed said. “Even if there is only one bone left of my son, we want to bury him and say goodbye.”
Forensic teams are facing increasing pressure, not only from families, but also from the growing number of remains. Dr Dhahir stressed the need for international assistance. “We urgently need DNA testing equipment and trained specialists to help identify victims. This is not just a closure for families: it is a humanitarian necessity,” he said.
As efforts continue, families cling to hope, even if it is faint. For Abu Muhammed, the search for his son has become a daily ritual that he cannot give up despite the emotional burden. “I can no longer count the shrouds that I have opened. I don’t know if I’ll ever find it again, but I’ll keep looking,” he said.
The tragedy of the unidentified remains underscores the broader human cost of the conflict. Beyond the staggering death toll lies an equally painful reality: families left in the dark, searching for answers amid the rubble of their lives.
For many, closure seems like an unattainable dream – a dream stolen by war and the lack of resources to heal its wounds.
This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.
