‘It’s a nightmare I can’t shake’: The lives robbed by Israel’s Gaza assault
Muna Aman, who lost her husband and three daughters to an Israeli air strike. (B'Tselem) |
“The horror in the Gaza Strip has been going on for so many years. We have reported on the blockade, the poverty, the wars. We have shared stories of life without water, without electricity, without hope. We have explained what international law requires and what conscience dictates. Now, words fail us.”
This admission opens the latest report from Israeli human rights group B’Tselem, which features 35 testimonies from Palestinian residents of Gaza who experienced the inferno of Israel’s 11-day bombing campaign this past May. (Full disclosure: I am on the board of B’Tselem.)
For Israeli Jews, May 2021 is remembered as a month of “clashes,” primarily in East Jerusalem and some so-called mixed cities. Thanks to the Israeli media’s disproportionate coverage of violent acts by Palestinian citizens, the period has been inscribed in their collective memory as a month of Jewish victimization. Israel’s deliberate violent escalation is long forgotten; Gaza, as always, vanished from our consciousness the moment the rocket fire stopped. The so-called “Operation Guardian of the Walls” became just another name among a list of grotesque titles Israel has given to its habitual attacks on the strip.
Palestinians in Gaza, however, experienced 11 days in which the gates of hell opened once more, suffering one of the deadliest and most destructive assaults on the strip to date.
The military campaign killed 232 Palestinians, including 54 minors and 38 women, according to B’Tselem’s records. Of the dead, 137 did not take part in the fighting, while 90 (including one minor) were involved in taking up arms; B’Tselem has so far been unable to determine the status of the remaining five victims. Rockets launched by Hamas and other Palestinian groups killed a further 20 Palestinians, including seven minors. B’Tselem has yet to determine who is responsible for the deaths of a further eight Palestinians, including six children.
Flames and smoke billowing after an Israeli air strike on the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, May 14, 2021. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90) |
Below is a sample of those testimonies. I have focused on the stories of women whose children, partners, and families became part of the army’s “collateral damage” — or as one witness put it, Israel’s “target bank.”
There is, for example, Muna Aman, a 47-year-old mother of six from Beit Lahiya at the northern tip of Gaza, whose husband Muhammad and three of her daughters — Walaa, 24; Warda, 22; and Hadil, 18 — were killed by an Israeli bomb dropped on their home on May 13. A Hamas operative from the group’s military wing lived in the same building as the family, but he was not home at the time of the attack, and it is unclear if he was the target of the bombing. What is clear is that Aman’s husband and three of her daughters, who did not take part in the fighting, lost their lives.
Aman recounts: “On May 13, 2021, at around 11:00 p.m., I woke up suddenly in complete darkness. There was debris, dust, and smoke all around me. I couldn’t see anything. I felt terrible pain all over my body, and it felt like things were piercing it. I also felt burns on my body and face. The pain was so strong, I screamed. Suddenly, one of my daughters came, I don’t know which one, and pulled me out. Just then, I heard another missile and lost sight of her. The place filled with smoke and dust.
“Then the paramedics came. I asked them to look for my daughters. They told me they’d take care of me first and then look for them. I lost consciousness and woke up the next morning at the ICU in a-Shifaa Hospital in Gaza City. I asked my relatives about my children, and they said they were alright. A few days later, the doctors moved me to the orthopedic department, where I was told my husband Muhammad had been killed. I went into shock and cried.
“A few minutes later, I was told that three of my daughters had also been killed – Hadil, Warda, and Walaa. I went into shock. They were my hope, my whole life, especially Hadil, who was the most spoiled and was very attached to me. It was a shock for me. I never thought anything like that would happen to me. I don’t know how to go on living.”
Medics with the Palestinian Red Crescent assessing damage after an Israeli airstrike in Gaza, May 7, 2021. (Mohammed Zaanoun/Activestills) |
The day after Muna was made a widow and a grieving mother, the Israeli army fired a missile at another home in Beit Lahiya that killed Lamyaa Muhammad Hassan al-’Attar, 26, and her three young children: Islam, 8, Amirah, 6, and Muhammad, 9 months. Manar al-’Attar, Lamyaa’s sister-in-law and a mother of five, recounted the massacre; she lives on the first floor of the same building that Lamyaa and her family lived in, one story down from them.
“On Thursday, after midnight, we were all home. That day, there were heavy Israeli airstrikes. My husband Ihab went to the bedroom, and I stayed with my sons in the living room. At around midnight, I told my husband to come to be with us in the living room. As soon as he left the bedroom, it was bombed. The windows shattered and all the doors in the house crashed. We all screamed and cried. We ran from the living room to the kitchen.
“A few seconds later, Ihab said he thought it was over and everything was quiet. But then the house started shaking and I fell over. We looked at each other and didn’t understand what was happening. The fridge fell on my husband and then the ceiling collapsed on us and on top of the fridge. There was a gas leak and we felt that we were suffocating. We screamed and called out for help, but no one heard us.”
After about a quarter of an hour, Bahaa, Manar’s brother-in-law, arrived and helped to pull her, her children, and her husband from the rubble. Already, she says, she realized that Lamyaa and her children hadn’t survived.
“When we were outside, we shone our flashlights on the house and saw it was in ruins. We were sure Lamyaa and her small children were dead. Everyone was looking for her under the rubble and calling out to her. At around 1:00 A.M., my brother-in-law Bahaa said he’d seen Lamyaa and her kids under the rubble and couldn’t save them. He said they’d been killed.”
After the explosion, Manar and her family were forced to leave the home they’d lived in for 21 years. Her son Ahmad, who also witnessed the attack, is still struggling to recover.
“Lamyaa’s kids were always at my house, playing with my son Ahmad. He keeps asking about them and can’t believe they’re dead. He keeps asking us to get them out from under the rubble like we removed some of the furniture. He’s in a bad emotional state. At night, when the power is cut off, he screams and says our house is about to be destroyed and asks us not to leave him.”
The Israeli army explained the massacre of the al-’Attar family by referring to “a network of Hamas tunnels [that] ran close to the house.”
‘We can’t hear Dad’s voice’
Among them were 36 members of the al-Qolaq family (the oldest, Amin Muhammad Hamad al-Qolaq, was 90 years old; the youngest, Adam, was 3). Five members of the Ishkuntana family were killed (‘Abir, 29, and her four children, aged between 2 and 9); the al-Ifrangi family lost five of its members (Rajaa, 41, and her four children, aged between 9 and 15); and 10 members of the Abu al-’Oaf family were also killed.
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