Deir el-Balah, Gaza, Palestine – Amani Madi still can’t believe that she and her family survived the bombing that hit Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the middle of the night.
In the open space where the attack on the displaced people’s tents took place early Monday, the smell of smoke prevails, and burnt cans and food are scattered on the ground among charred blankets and clothes .
People come and go. Most of them were living in tents and trying to find everything left behind by the fire that destroyed their fragile homes.
Bodies on fire as they ran
The attack ravaged the makeshift camp set up by displaced people in the hospital courtyard, killing at least four people and injuring at least 40.
“It was 1:10 a.m. when a huge explosion shook everything,” recalls Madi, 37, a mother of six, sitting in the remains of her burned tent.
“I looked outside and saw flames devouring the tents next to ours,” Madi said. “My husband and I carried the children and ran to the emergency building.
“At the entrance, I saw my five-year-old son, screaming and bleeding. I took him to the doctors and discovered he had shrapnel in his stomach.
The doctors managed to bandage Ahmed but had to leave the shrapnel where they had hit him, explaining to Madi that it would require delicate surgery to remove it, an operation which is not possible given the Gaza’s severely damaged medical sector.
Many repeatedly displaced Palestinians find themselves in schools and hospitals, setting up tents again and again, using whatever materials they can find, huddled close together due to lack of space.
Israeli bombs spread the fire through the crowded tents within minutes while Civil Defense officers struggled to put it out with the limited capabilities they had.
“People – women, men and children – were fleeing the spreading fire, screaming,” says Madi. “Some of them were still burning, their bodies on fire as they ran. Terrifying, horrible,… incredible.
“Where are we supposed to go?” It’s almost winter. Is there no one to stop this holocaust against us?
Madi’s tent was next to that of Jamalat Wadi, which was practically in the center of the bombardment.
Wadi, 43, says: “It’s a miracle that we survived, me and my seven daughters. »
“I woke them up screaming, as our burning tent fell on our heads.
“My neighbor, her son and her husband were burned alive. No one could save them,” she said, crying bitterly.
Like many others, Wadi was forced to flee several times, first to Shujayea, then to Rafah, Nuseirat and Khan Younis before seeking refuge at Al-Aqsa Hospital.
“Now we’re on the streets again, but I won’t stay here after this. There is nowhere safe.
“Hospitals and schools are on the front lines of Israeli attacks. What have we done to deserve this?
“One leg fell to the ground.”
Maha Al-Sarsak, 17, lives in a tent adjacent to those that burned. Her family’s tent was not affected, but she witnessed the first moments of the explosion and fire.
Al-Sarsak walks through the carnage left by the bombings crying.
She has been displaced to Al-Aqsa with her family for nine months.
After the hospital compound was repeatedly targeted, she said, she stopped sleeping at night for fear of another Israeli bombardment.
“I was awake. What I feared happened…for the seventh time. I heard the knock coming from the direction of the tents in front of us. I screamed for my mother and my (eight) siblings, and we ran towards the hospital building.
“I saw our neighbor Umm Shaaban (Alaa Al-Dalu, 37 years old) completely burned and her body charred with that of her son (Shaaban, 20 years old).
“When they were moving the victims, I saw one leg fall to the ground,” Al-Sarsak added, crying.
“They said the south was safe, but there is no security. People were burned alive and we had a very terrifying night. Every time the hospital is targeted, we are terrified,” says Al-Sarsak.
“But last night was the most terrifying. The fire ravaged the tents and people’s bodies in a matter of moments. Oh, God, have mercy.