Rafah, Gaza Strip, Palestine – Palestinian farmer Abd al-Sattari owned two houses in Rafah, Gaza. In the nine months since Israeli forces invaded the southern city, he has been forced into displacement. The 53-year-old lived in the hope that if one house was hit by one of the Israeli attacks, which have razed more than 70 percent of the territory, the other would remain standing to accommodate his family when war broke out. finally finished.
On Sunday, even before the ceasefire took effect, Abd took his eldest son Mohammed and left the rest of their family in their displaced persons tent in al-Mawasi, on Gaza’s southwest coast. . They rushed to one property, then another, only to face the sad reality: his two houses – one in the Shaboura region and the other in Mirage – had been reduced to ruins. Abd’s hopes of returning to normal were shattered.
The long-awaited ceasefire agreement took effect Sunday morning, ending what Palestinians hope will be a horrific war that has killed more than 46,900 people, demolished much of the besieged enclave and forced more than 2 million people to move. Even before the ceasefire began, hundreds of families were rushing to Rafah, having fled following the Israeli invasion, with their few possessions crammed into vehicles, animal-drawn carts and bicycles.
Israeli forces continued their attacks on Gaza, killing more Palestinians just before the ceasefire began. But that didn’t stop some families who had already traveled to their old neighborhoods and set up camp on the ruins of what was once their home, eager to get over the darkest months of their lives.
As they drove through the cratered roads that crisscross Rafah, some families chanted: “We will rebuild. We will live.
“Rafah is gone”
But for many, joy turned to anguish as they returned to devastation.
While inspecting his first house, spanning 200 square meters (2,000 square feet), and his second two-story house of 160 square meters (1,700 square feet), Abd found only destruction. Visits to the homes of his three brothers revealed similar devastation. Without a roof to shelter his family, his dream of ending their seven-month displacement collapsed.
Sitting amid the ruins, Abd called his wife, who was waiting in al-Mawasi camp with the family’s belongings packed into a truck. On the phone, he tells them the news: their homes are uninhabitable, without walls, without water and without basic services. His wife cried bitterly, begging to return despite the devastation, but Abd insisted it was impossible.
Their eldest son, Mohammed, took the phone to persuade his mother to stay put, assuring her that they would explore ways to prepare for a future return.
“The Rafah we knew has disappeared,” lamented Abd. “The streets where we grew up, the places where we worked, are now unrecognizable. »
For Abd’s family of six children, the day was supposed to mark an end to the misery of displacement. Instead, they face the grim reality of rebuilding from scratch.
Abd reflects on their dashed hopes. “We thought we would finally escape the tents and live within the walls again. But now it looks like a new kind of annihilation – this time, not because of the bombs but because of the complete absence of the essential elements of life.”

A desperate return
In the days leading up to the ceasefire, Palestinians in Gaza were preparing for what they hoped would be an end to their misery: more than 1.8 million people were suffering from extreme hunger and hundreds Thousands lived in precarious tents that barely protected them from hunger. a winter that killed babies from hypothermia.
Families like that of Nasim Abu Alwan, who brought his nine children home to find their house destroyed, decided to live among the ruins. “We will carry water from far away if necessary,” Nasim said. “We are done with tents. We will stay in Rafah, whatever happens.
According to United Nations figures, more than 60 percent of buildings and 65 percent of roads across Gaza have been destroyed since October 7, 2023, when the war began.
“More than 42 million tonnes of debris were generated, in which human remains and unexploded ordnance (UXO), asbestos and other hazardous substances are buried,” says the UN humanitarian agency’s report. United Nations (OCHA).
Other residents of Rafah, like Amjad Abdullah, chose to stay in Khan Younis, unwilling to live amid the rubble. “It is impossible to live here,” he declared after finding that his neighborhood was inaccessible even on foot. “Rafah has become a cemetery of buildings. Without water, roads or basic infrastructure, life here is unimaginable.

According to Mohammed al-Sufi, mayor of Rafah, the scale of the destruction in Rafah is “staggering.”
“The city is uninhabitable,” he told Tel Aviv Tribune.
Al-Sufi said that “70 percent of its facilities and infrastructure are destroyed.”
“Key areas like the Philadelphia Corridor, which constitutes 16 percent of Rafah’s land area, remain off-limits, while large swaths of eastern Rafah are also inaccessible,” he added. The Philadelphia Corridor is a strip of land that runs along the border between Gaza and Egypt.
City workers race against time to clear roads, restore water and deal with the dangers of unexploded ordnance. But the municipality warns against hasty returns.
“We need a gradual and cautious approach. Without basic services, life cannot resume,” said one of the workers.
Despite the damage, the inhabitants of Rafah remain rebellious. Families cling to their connection to the city, determined to salvage what little they have left. As one father said: “We suffered too much in exile. Rafah is our home and we will rebuild it – even if it takes a lifetime. »
This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.