Palestinians Return to the Rubble in Northern Gaza
In the wake of a fragile ceasefire, thousands of Gazans have headed back to the ruins of northern Gaza, hoping to find remains or clues about loved ones buried beneath collapsed homes. The task is daunting: an estimated 10,000 people are still trapped in rubble, and the territory spans roughly 60 million tonnes of debris. For many families, every fragment recovered is a step toward closure.
The Human Cost of the Conflict’s Aftermath
Among those returning is Ghali Khadr, 40, who spent two days pleading with his parents to flee to southern Gaza. When an Israeli airstrike hit their home, the family’s story was permanently interrupted. On Sunday, Khadr sifted through shattered concrete and twisted metal, finding only fragments of bone, a stark reminder of the losses that haunt him and countless others. “My father, a retired ambulance driver, was known for his strong will and patience. He did not know fear and was always optimistic,” Khadr said, underscoring how the war shattered not just buildings but family lives.
Challenges Facing Rescue Workers
Civil defence teams, now able to operate after the halt in fighting, confront a monumental search. Roads are blocked, heavy equipment is scarce, and rescuers must rely on pickaxes and sledgehammers to break through dense rubble. The danger is ever-present: there are many unexploded ordnance scattered through streets and buildings, complicating every careful move. Khaled al-Ayoubi, 64, northern Gaza’s civil defence chief, explained their immediate focus: “At first, we are focusing on collecting the corpses lying in the streets to preserve what remains of them, especially with the presence of stray dogs that have been attacking bodies.”
Limited Resources, Urgent Need
The shortage of heavy machinery means many searches are painstaking and slow. Some families have begun searching themselves, often traveling back from exile to their ruined neighborhoods in the hope of finding even a single clue. The director of humanitarian support, Dr. Mohammed al-Mugheer, projected that with the arrival of heavy equipment, recoveries could accelerate, potentially allowing authorities to identify and inter the dead within six months to a year. Until then, the work remains a race against time and memory.
Stories of Loss and the Need for Closure
For residents like Yahya al-Muqra, 32, the search is personal and ongoing. He lost contact with his brother Sharif after an airstrike on 25 July. Al-Muqra visited the ruins but found no trace of Sharif’s body. The absence of a grave compounds a profound ache: “My heart is broken because my brother has not been buried yet. Even a single bone would allow us to lay him to rest and feel some relief,” he said, illustrating how the lack of remains robs families of final goodbyes.
Why the Search Continues
Rescuers see in each fragment a form of tribute to those who vanished. “Families feel that recovering the bodies of their martyrs is a way to honour them and preserve their souls, and it reassures them that their loved ones truly became martyrs and are no longer alive,” said Fadi al-Salibi, 35, a civil defence worker. The emotional weight of not knowing where, when, or how a loved one died drives people to endure long, difficult searches, often under sweltering sun and amid the clamor of construction and debris.
Looking Ahead
As northern Gaza slowly recovers from the devastation, the community clings to the possibility that even a fragment of bone, a piece of clothing, or a trace of a footprint could bring some measure of closure. The ceasefire offers a brief window for families to attempt what many fear may be their only chance to say goodbye to those who disappeared beneath the rubble. For Ghali Khadr and thousands of others, the hope is tempered by the stark reality of what remains buried under the remains of a city learning to breathe again.
