Tel Aviv Tribune correspondent Maram Hamid from Deir al-Balah wrote about a horrific day and night, saying that Gaza was oscillating between death and life while Israel recovered 4 of its prisoners. Here is the translation of the article:
In Deir al-Balah, Saturday was not normal. The town seemed to be sliding into the bottom of hell. The war returned to its brutality and intensity, and the world fell into chaos, engulfed by bombing and fire.
The previous night, artillery fire continued non-stop in central Gaza, from east of Bureij and Deir al-Balah to al-Maghazi.
I was having breakfast with my children at around 11 am before heading to Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital to prepare my press releases, but everything suddenly turned upside down.
The artillery shelling escalated, warplanes filled the sky, and airstrikes shook our house. They were shooting at houses in Deir al-Balah, around us.
Should we flee or take cover?
The roar of tank fire was accompanied by ceaseless shelling, and helicopters, quadcopters and other drones flew by. Fear took hold of us. Should we flee the house or take shelter there?
The news reported that something was happening in Nuseirat, but the bombing was all around us. Then a strong strike hit a house directly next to Al-Aqsa Hospital. Then we heard that the Israeli army asked the hospital to evacuate.
And it was crazy. At that moment, I thanked God that I was not in the hospital, but I felt the horror that must have been hanging over the people there.
The hospital, overflowing with displaced families and makeshift media tents, was the only medical facility in central Gaza, dealing with a staggering number of casualties.
What is the fate of these people?
Within moments, hundreds of displaced people began fleeing in panic from the hospital, fear written all over their faces. They wander aimlessly in the streets of Deir al-Balah. Amid the chaos, screaming filled the air, and a collective question of, “Where do we go from here?”
The reality was bleak, with conflicting and disturbing reports. Some reported a ground incursion into Nuseirat, others said a specialized unit stormed a house near the Nuseirat market. The frantic bombing, shooting, and aerial and artillery bombardment continued.
There is great anxiety in our country, and nerves are tense. I was trying to reach my fellow journalists who evacuated the hospital, but to no avail.
At some point, I realized they might be launching a ground operation, so I started gathering essentials in a bag.
My brother, who had left for Egypt two months earlier, called, interrupting the chaos. Concern filled his voice as he asked about our safety, warning against leaving because the streets were full of displaced people and bombs.
Silence and hesitation
The barrage of shelling and gunfire continued non-stop for nearly two hours. Then news emerged from the Israeli media, attributing the chaos to a military operation to recover 4 Israelis who were captured on October 7.
There were moments of silence and hesitation as the situation calmed down and the bombing and shooting calmed down. Then we began to see scenes of dead and wounded arriving at hospitals.
People were documenting the victims who fell in the bombing of the market and homes. The bodies of children and adults were cut up and dumped along the road. The tanks started leaving. Terrorism, chaos, and mass losses inflicted by Israel on the people of Gaza to recover 4 of its prisoners.
Initially, the official figures amounted to 50 civilian martyrs, and continued to rise steadily to 226, then to 274, as confirmed by the government media office. The painful questions began: Is Palestinian blood so cheap?
Heaviness on the heart
I felt heavy on my heart, overcome with frustration and deep sadness as I watched the tragedies of those who survived the ordeal.
Communications were down. I was unable to reach many relatives and friends displaced from Rafah to Nuseirat. My husband received a call: his uncle’s wife and cousin had been killed.
My efforts to check on friends yielded no answers until hours later. I came across their social media posts filled with details of the atrocities they endured. Every survivor tells of a miracle of escaping death.
My friend Nour, an UNRWA teacher and mother of 3 children, participated. And on the X website, “I cannot believe what I experienced today. At 11 o’clock, we were next to the tent, Yamen and I, and suddenly the Apaches were above our heads and started firing bombs and bullets at the people in the sea and the tents, and we started running as if it were the Day of Resurrection.”
Like the Day of Resurrection
Islam, my friend who keeps up with her family from Malaysia, was told by her sister what happened. She wrote on the website .
The story is the same for all of us: chaos, hell, screaming, terrorism, continuous bombing, displacement, death at every turn.
Amidst these thoughts, I was interrupted by my daughter Baniyas, who lived every moment with her eyes filled with tears, constantly asking, “Mama, will they reach Deir al-Balah? Are these voices far away?”
I could only reassure her, “Don’t be afraid. What lies ahead?”
The most painful
Perhaps the most painful aspect of the massacre is its depiction in the media and the circulation of photos of recovered Israeli prisoners. Israeli statements praised the success of the operation, but what about the 274 martyrs?
Are we just numbers? Is our blood and suffering so easily ignored? Are the lives of Israeli prisoners more valuable than our own? Why doesn’t the world see us? Why doesn’t he feel us?
We have fallen victim to war time and again, and twice as much to neglect, oppression and indifference.
Just two days ago, it was announced that the United States Floating Pier would be repaired and that its meager assistance would be resumed. However, these trucks were used to commit a massacre in Nuseirat to recapture the Israelis. What logic makes the world allow this?
We do not trust the United States
Is there coordination to eliminate us? We have never put our trust in the United States, and we never will. But how can their insolence reach this level?
We face hunger, bombings, and daily war, and the arriving aid trucks that America claimed were to help us are being used as an ambush for us and a savior for the Israeli prisoners.
The world rushes to protect Israel, attacks us, conspires against us, and dances over our blood, our sorrows, and our tragedies.
We are classified as terrorists every minute and they kill us without hindrance.
Gaza will not forget and will not forgive.
Words, reports and statistics are useless. There is no point in talking.
And every night, after every massacre, I go to bed in our house crowded with displaced people. I hold my son tightly in my arms, pleading with God to shower us with His mercy and spare us more sorrows.
We complain to you – O Lord – of the betrayal of the world, the silence of the Brotherhood, and the pressure of our allies on us.
We will not forgive…and we will not forget.
