By Ahlam Hammad and Doaa Al-Harazin – Gaza
“An evacuation warning feels like a bullet piercing the heart,” says 35-year-old Israa Shammaly, who has been forced to flee her home 18 times since the start of the Israeli war on the Gaza Strip.
Shomaly, a married mother of five, lives in a house in Gaza City’s upscale Al-Rimal neighborhood—once one of the city’s most prestigious areas—now repeatedly targeted by Israeli military operations and ground incursions since the war began.
Over the course of the 21-month-long, unprecedented war, Shammaly and her family have constantly moved from one place to another inside Gaza City, fleeing death and searching for a safety that no longer exists.
A False Alarm
One terrifying night, Israeli fighter jets carried out a heavy airstrike on the “Dream Building”—a residential complex directly across from Shammaly’s home—completely destroying it. Fortunately, no casualties were reported as residents had received a prior evacuation warning, according to Shomaly.
The following morning, she heard screams and chaos outside. “I looked out the window, and it felt like doomsday. People were running hysterically through the streets—women, men, children—evacuating their homes and apartments. I didn’t even know why at that moment,” she says.
She later learned that the Israeli military had issued a warning about bombing the nearby “Afghani Tower,” causing widespread panic among her neighbors. But in the end, the threat turned out to be false.
“Most of the neighbors evacuated, abandoning their homes and scattering in all directions. My family and I refused to leave, as did the owners of the Afghani Tower themselves,” Shammaly explains.
While the rest of the residents in her building fled, Shammaly and her family stayed put. “Everyone else in our building fled south (to areas in southern Gaza), but we remained in our apartment and refused to leave.”
The decision to stay was far from easy. “Every day, we got calls from relatives and friends asking, ‘Has the tower been hit yet?’ We’d say no, and they’d beg us to leave, warning that we’d be killed under the rubble and no one would be able to reach us.”
Though the constant fear took a psychological toll, Shammaly held firm in her decision to stay. Months have passed, and the tower still stands—damaged by some artillery shells during repeated Israeli ground incursions, but not destroyed.
Repeated Displacement and Constant Fear
Umm Mohammed, a 36-year-old Palestinian mother of three, lives with her ailing mother-in-law in a modest home. Since the war began, she’s been displaced four times—starting in Rafah on the Egyptian border in southern Gaza, then to Deir al-Balah, Nuseirat Camp, and now Maghazi Camp in the central Strip.
She has her own story with evacuation warnings. “The Israeli army called and said our home was in danger because it’s near the security fence east of Maghazi. They ordered us to evacuate immediately and stay at least 100 to 200 meters away. They also told us to alert the neighbors—this was at dawn.”
“We left with nothing—no clothes, no belongings. My children and I ran into the street with the neighbors and headed to the nearest school in Maghazi Camp, waiting for the strike that never came. Hours later, we returned to the house, plagued with anxiety over an attack that never happened.”
The experience was traumatic. “Can you imagine waking children up at dawn, terrified, not knowing what to take with us? And we had a sick elderly woman who couldn’t walk. We were scrambling for a wheelchair or anyone to help carry her—my husband couldn’t do it alone. People were screaming, running. Some women fled in their nightgowns. It was horrifying.”
Today, Umm Mohammed still lives in what she calls a “threatened home.” She insists that living in a tent is impossible, especially with children and an immobile elderly woman. “We’ll stay here—whatever happens is in God’s hands.”
She adds, “Words can’t describe what we’ve been through. As a mother, I fear even sending my kids to the store, the market, or to charge the phone—because of attacks on markets and vendor stalls. So many people have been killed or injured for no reason. Enough war.”
“Stop the War”
Nearby in the same camp, 57-year-old Mustafa Abu Khaled lives with his seven children—two of whom are married. Since the war began, he’s been displaced nine times, moving between central and southern Gaza. He describes the journey as “miserable and hopeless.”
He recounts one of the most terrifying nights: “I was staying near a family who got a warning that their home would be bombed. My neighbor Abu Mohammad came knocking on our wooden tent door at dawn, shouting, ‘Get up, there’s going to be bombing!’ I woke my wife and children, then ran to wake my two married sons in their tents. We all ran into the streets, not knowing where to go.”
“In the end, we found a school in Maghazi and decided to wait there for a few hours until the house was hit and we could return. We stayed until 10 AM before my wife and I went back to our tent—our sons stayed in a classroom with relatives. We had no choice but to return and leave the rest to God. We live moving from tent to tent, displacement after displacement. Some even sit on the rubble of their former homes. This is our reality.”
With a heart full of sorrow and a voice weighed down by pain, Abu Khaled speaks to the world: “Enough war. Enough humiliation. We die a thousand times every day—from bombing, disease, and even helplessness in providing for our families. Does the world understand how it feels when a father can’t give his child one shekel (around $0.27)—and even that buys nothing anymore? It breaks you. Stop this war. Let us live a little in peace—without bombs, without drones—so we can mourn our dead, heal our wounds, and reclaim just a sliver of our former lives.”
According to local and international organizations, about 2.3 million Gazans are currently crammed into an area no more than 20% of Gaza’s total territory—roughly 360 square kilometers. This drastic contraction is the result of repeated Israeli evacuation orders.
Even this limited space continues to shrink, with constant displacement orders and military operations—particularly in northern Gaza, where towns like Jabalia, Beit Hanoun, and Beit Lahiya have been completely depopulated. In Khan Younis, over 95% of the city has been evacuated. Meanwhile, Rafah has remained under full Israeli occupation since the 6 May 2024 ground invasion.
