Detainees & Prisoners
When the war began, I was living with my wife, Ikhlas ‘Issa, 32, and our three children, Baraa Salem, 8, Iman, 5, and Layan, 2, on the fourth floor of a four-story building in Beit Lahiya, very close to Jabalya Refugee Camp. My cousins lived in the other apartments in the building. At first, we didn’t leave our home. I thought the war would end after a few days, but later I realized it was nothing like previous wars.In December 2023, the military attacked Beit Lahiya and our house was hit. We had to flee and moved to my wife’s family home in Jabalya Refugee Camp. We stayed there for a few days and then were displaced again. This time we went to UNRWA headquarters in western Gaza City. We stayed there for five days and then returned to my wife’s family home. From time to time, I managed to visit our home in Beit Lahiya, which was partially destroyed in the bombardment. In February 2024, after several months of displacement, I repaired the damage as best I could and we moved back home. Other relatives of ours also moved back to the building.I gave my son Baraa my watch. He started crying and said to me, “I’m so happy you’re my father, I love you.” I hugged my children and kissed them. I could feel they were going to arrest me.During the second invasion of Jabalya Refugee Camp, in May 2024, the Israeli military attacked the area around Kamal Adwan Hospital, which is located in Beit Lahiya not far from our home. Our building was directly hit by a missile that penetrated our floor and exploded on the second floor. About 25 members of my extended family were killed. My wife, the children and I survived the attack unharmed. We went down to the second floor. The sight there was horrific: bodies and wounded people everywhere.That same day, I moved with my wife and children to my aunt’s home in Jabalya Refugee Camp, where we stayed for about four months. From there, we moved to the apartment of our neighbor who had fled south, and lived there for about a month until October 2024, when the military invaded Jabalya Refugee Camp again. The military ordered us over loudspeakers to go to the Civil Administration checkpoint east of the camp.I walked towards the checkpoint with my wife and children. The children cried nonstop, and my wife was terrified. She kept telling me, “Haitham, I’m really scared they’ll arrest you at the checkpoint. If the military takes you, I’ll die without you.” Because my wife and children were so afraid, we decided to turn back and not continue to the checkpoint. We went back to Jabalya Refugee Camp, to my brother’s home. But the shelling around us didn’t stop and only grew heavier, and the military dropped leaflets ordering us to evacuate. In the end, on 17 November 2024, we decided to go to the Civil Administration checkpoint after all. When we were standing at the checkpoint, my wife cried with fear. I gave my son Baraa my watch. He started crying and said to me, “I’m so happy you’re my father, I love you.” I hugged my children and kissed them. I could feel they were going to arrest me.Just then, the soldiers at the checkpoint called me to come over. I went over to them, and they took a photo of me and gave me a white uniform to wear. They started hitting me right away. It felt like they were breaking my body. In the evening, they took me and the other detainees in two trucks to an area that was turned into a military camp east of Jabalya Refugee Camp. We all had our hands and feet tied. When we arrived at the camp, the soldiers forced us to get down on our knees with our heads down. They rubbed our heads in the gravel and kicked us. I was trembling with cold. A female soldier came up to me, and I told her I was cold. She left and came back with a blanket. The other detainees didn’t get blankets.We all had our hands and feet tied. When we arrived at the camp, the soldiers forced us to get down on our knees with our heads down. They rubbed our heads in the gravel and kicked us.We spent the night there. In the morning, a bus arrived. They put us on it, hitting us while they did so. They drove us to Sde Teiman Prison. When we arrived, I couldn’t pee because of the beatings I had received. Later, I saw there was blood in my urine. A doctor examined me and told me there was no treatment. He advised me to drink water.They interrogated me constantly. During the interrogations, the soldiers beat me badly and broke one of my ribs. They tried to scare us and break our spirits all the time. Twice a week, they carried out suppression operations: they threw stun grenades into the cells, injured detainees, forced us to kneel with our hands on our heads, and swore at us. The soldiers made me a “shawish,” in charge of the other detainees, and ordered me to slap them. They told me, “If you don’t beat the detainees, we’ll beat you.” When I slapped the detainees, I apologized to them. The soldiers beat me and cursed me anyway. Those were the hardest days of my life. They showed no mercy or compassion towards any of us.On top of all that, we suffered from getting very little food. In the morning, we got a small slice of bread and a piece of apple, cucumber or tomato. At midday, we got a spoonful of tuna with a slice of bread. Sometimes they also gave us a spoonful of jam. When the soldiers brought us the food, they slid it under the door and pushed it with their shoes. Sometimes, they poured dish soap or water on our food and forced us to eat it. If we refused, they beat us. Sometimes the food arrived soaked in rainwater. The soldiers would tell us, “Eat like birds, like animals.”Sometimes they set dogs on us, which attacked us, head-butted us with their muzzles and even peed on us. We were allowed to shower only twice a week. At first, they let us change clothes after 40 days. After that, we only changed clothes three months later.The soldiers would tell us, “Eat like birds, like animals.” Sometimes they set dogs on us, which attacked us, head-butted us with their muzzles and even peed on us.I stayed in Sde Teiman Prison for about four and a half months, until 9 April 2025, and then they transferred me to Ofer Prison.At Ofer Prison, a lot of detainees had scabies and fungal infections. I caught them too. We received no treatment. Every time we asked for medication for the scabies and infections, they told us to wash our skin with water and soap. One time, we were given bleach, and some detainees were so desperate, they washed the infected parts of their skin with it. It only burned them even more, and we poured cold water on them. Some detainees suffered from scabies for months. Their skin became red and bled from scratching, and they couldn’t sleep at night. The itching was so bad that some detainees tore out their hair in sensitive body parts. They bled and screamed in pain day and night.There was very little food at Ofer Prison, too. All we got were very small portions of bread and eggs, just enough to keep us alive. We were beaten and oppressed constantly. Sometimes I cried from the force of the blows all over my body, especially because I was still suffering from the broken rib.The showers were a nightmare, too. They would put five detainees in a shower together, and after one minute, they would yell at us to get out. We were given only dish soap to wash ourselves. In the winter, the soldiers would sometimes wake us up to shower in the middle of the night. It was more torture than bathing.On 25 August 2025, they transferred me to Negev Prison (Ketziot). During the transfer, they beat me.They would put five detainees in a shower together, and after one minute, they would yell at us to get out. We were given only dish soap to wash ourselves. In the winter, the soldiers would sometimes wake us up to shower in the middle of the night […].The food at Ketziot Prison was better than the food at Sde Teiman and Ofer. The portions were small and not filling, but the food was more varied. We were given eggs, chicken breasts, beans, lentils, bread and hummus. But we were never full there, either, and survived on very little. On Saturdays, we got a small piece of cheese and some olives. Sick detainees were left in the hands of God. They were not given medication, except for people with chronic illnesses.On 5 October 2025, the prison administration informed me that I was going to be released and transferred me to another wing. I was very happy to finally see my family. I remembered that my daughter Layan’s birthday was on 17 October, so I made her a bracelet and a beaded ring as a gift.Before I was released, a doctor examined me and the other detainees, measured our height and weighed us. From there, they took us to the Shin Bet interrogation rooms, where they asked us personal questions about ourselves, our families and our detention. On 12 October 2025, the day before my release, Red Cross representatives arrived and asked us to fill out a questionnaire ahead of our release. We refused to fill it out and wondered why they hadn’t come earlier. The next day, on 13 October 2025, they tied our hands and feet and put us on buses that took us to the Kerem Abu Salem [Kerem Shalom] Crossing. There, they removed the cuffs. We entered the Gaza Strip and were taken on another bus to Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis. We were very happy and excited. There were about 50 released detainees, and people were waiting at the hospital to welcome us, joyful and cheering. It should have been the best day of my life.Everyone reunited with their families, but I looked around and couldn’t see anyone from my family. Finally, I spotted Muhammad, one of my cousins. I asked him, “Where’s my family? I haven’t seen any of them. Is my family okay?” He said yes. I kept asking, “And what about my wife and my children?” He said, “Remember God, Haitham.” I didn’t understand what he meant and asked again about my wife and children. Muhammad asked me to be patient. He left, and then another guy from my family came up to me. He told me that my wife and children were with God, that they had all been killed. When I heard the news, I felt like a lightning bolt hit me in my heart and mind. I felt that my life stopped. It was the worst day of my life.Later that day, I met my parents and siblings. I was a wreck. I felt like I was falling apart. They took me with them to the IDP camp they’re staying in, in Deir al-Balah. The air was full of grief and sorrow over the death of my wife and children. Now I’m living in a tent with my parents and one of my brothers. I got out of my prison only to find that I’d lost my wife and children. I lost my home, too. I lost everything. I stay in the tent all the time and don’t go anywhere. I live off the memories of my wife and children. I feel like a body without a soul.* Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 31 October 2025* Ikhlas ‘Issa, 32, Haitham Salem’s wife, and their two daughters, Iman, 5, and Layan, 2, were killed in an Israeli attack on a tent they were shelter in, in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood of Gaza City on 8 September 2025. Their son Baraa, 8, was injured in the attack and died of his wounds a few days later, on 12 September 2025.
19 January 2026
