A family about to depart for the north on the first day of the ceasefire. Photo: Donya Abu Sitta

Returned to the north – with hope and determination.
Abruptly, tears cover our faces.
Jabalia — Beit Hanoun — Beit Lahia
A land now full of destruction.
And blood.

After 15 months of living in tents that offered no protection from the summer heat or winter cold, the residents of Gaza were allowed to return to their homes in the first phase of the ceasefire. Tens of thousands of families carried their dreams and aspirations to rebuild what remained of their homes, but the reality they found was extremely painful.

The northern region, especially Jabalia, Beit Hanoun, and Beit Lahia, was one of the most affected areas. The effects of the bombardment were on every corner. The destroyed buildings were witnesses to massacres. The schools are devoid of children’s laughter, the houses are in ruins, and the streets are desolate.

The hope for a quick reconstruction evaporated, for there was no water or electricity. People could barely find shelter after the destruction of so many homes.

Among the rubble, dreams have fallen.
The houses that once held hope have collapsed.
Children are looking for lost toys.
Families are looking for a safe place.

When places change

The eyes of Umm Ahmed will be a window onto this story. This name is a pseudonym for a middle-aged woman with silver strands in her hair. She has endured many such wars in her life. Her family is one of thousands that returned to the north. She and her husband Abu Ahmed, along with their children, first lived in Jabalia Camp, a densely populated camp, where the houses are packed closely together. People could hear the neighbors’ sounds. With such closeness, the residents of the camp begin to feel like family.

Umm Ahmed’s family was displaced more than 15 times during the war, moving between Al-Nuseirat, Deir Al-Balah, Khan Younis, and Rafah. Then they returned to Khan Younis and settled in a school next to my house behind Nasser Complex.

When Umm Ahmed heard that return to the north would be permitted, she couldn’t sleep from joy. She wished to finally sleep in her own house, on her own bed. She longed to no longer be a displaced person.

On the first day of ceasefire, before sunrise, the family filled their backpacks with whatever they could carry. They had tea together and started a journey that began on foot, carrying their backpacks. They had to pass through Al-Rasheed Street, where vehicles were prohibited. They left the school near my house at 6 a.m. and reached Nuseirat at 8 a.m., the furthest point they could reach from the south before they had to cross a checkpoint, which the Israeli army allowed them to pass. They reached Jabalia at 4 p.m.

They were shocked by the state of the camp. The entire neighborhood was rubble, as if it had been destroyed by an earthquake. They couldn’t even find the former location of their home until they consulted with the neighbors.

They spent their first day in extreme cold, with a severe shortage of water. Even drinking water was unavailable, Umm Ahmed said. The family’s initial plan was to set up a tent on the ruins of their home and live there, but even obtaining a tent was impossible. Their source of income, Abu Ahmed’s small shop that sold office supplies and food, had also been destroyed.

In the evening of the day after they had left for their home, I saw Umm Ahmed and her children returning to school with their belongings, their faces filled with sadness. I asked her why they had returned to Khan Younis when they had been so eager to go back to their home. She replied, with pain in her voice: “The house is gone, and we don’t have a tent. We couldn’t even stay there for one day, so how can we settle there?”

Another friend, Shorooq Alazbaki, told me how difficult it is to obtain water for daily use and for drinking. She is working to supply water and basic needs for families in the north of Gaza. She said that it requires a walk of 6 kilometers, round-trip.

Yet it is even worse for some people, for whom water is not available at all. The destruction of Gaza’s infrastructure is nearly total, particularly in the northern areas: Jabalia, Beit Hanoun, and Beit Lahia. Water trucks are unable to reach these areas because of streets blocked by rubble. “I see people every day carrying water containers on their heads, walking for hours in the severe cold,” Shorooq said. “They suffer a lot to get water, which is a basic human right.”

Then they returned after seeing the ghosts’ city.
The south has once again become a refuge for them.
No refuge, no safety, no homeland to embrace them.
Just an endless journey between the north and the south.

A cart piled high and moving north, near Al-Mawasi in Khan Younis. Photo: Donya Abu Sitta

Postponing joy

Fayez Al Shareef returned to the north, leaving behind his mother, siblings, wife, and children in the south. He went to repair what was left of his house, with the intention of bringing his family to join him once it was complete. He assured them, “I will return on Sunday and finish repairing the house, then I will call you to come to the north. Please wait for my call.”

However, a month after his departure, Fayez still had not contacted them. Finally, Fayez’s brother called him, filled with fear, asking, “Why haven’t you been in touch with us?”

Fayez responded with a voice full of sadness and frustration, “I am still working on the house. Please do not bring our mother here. The house has no walls and the weather is very cold. She will not be able to endure it for long, and it may take an extra week to clear the rubble from the street so you can enter and exit the house.” His mother remains determined to return home. If she returns, all of them will return.

Fayez’s family’s three-floor house now only has one floor remaining, with half walls and columns standing without support. One floor was completely destroyed, and another was damaged by a missile. Fayez does not have the necessary equipment to speed up the process, and there is also a lack of water. There was sadness in his voice as he finished their conversation. He said, “I advise you not to come to the north. There is no life here.”

When occupying forces target housing in Gaza, the strategy is to either completely destroy houses or leave them standing but unsafe and uninhabitable. Furthermore, the process is deliberately carried out in a manner that makes it difficult to remove the rubble, which could take months or even years. This is just one of the tactics used to forcibly displace the residents of Gaza. Many families were forced to return to the south because they could not find the necessities of life in the northern Gaza Strip, and they found no place to shelter them.

In Gaza, demolition is a weapon.
Ruined homes, poisoned land.
The rubble remains as months go by.
The south is a refuge, but there is no rest.