Three days of unchecked abuse: Israeli soldiers severely abuse six Gazan detainees, incl. three minors

8 May 2016

On 10 October 2015, Palestinian youths from al-Bureij Refugee Camp in the central Gaza Strip staged a demonstration near the perimeter fence. B’Tselem’s investigation found that some 300 youths took part in the protest, which began in the afternoon and lasted until the evening. Some protesters threw stones at soldiers stationed behind earthworks on the other side of the fence, a little way off from it. The soldiers fired tear-gas at the protesters. During the clashes, six or seven youths tore out an iron gate set in the fence and began heading into Israeli territory. Military forces, including several jeeps, began combing the area in search of them. The troops also used flares and dogs. When the youths realized a pursuit had been mounted, they split up and began running in different directions, some into Israel. Others tried to turn back towards the fence, where clashes between soldiers and protesters were still underway.

Palestinian protesters stand at Israeli border fence. Ibraheem Abu Mustafa, Reuters, 13 October 2015

Six protesters who crossed the border were apprehended by soldiers that evening. Three of them, minors, told B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh that the military used dogs to capture them. The soldiers, men and women, who arrested them used extreme violence during the arrest and while en route to a military base. At the base, whose location is unknown to the minors, soldiers severely abused the six detainees. For three days the detainees were kept tied up out in the open, repeatedly beaten, denied food and drink, subjected to various degradations, and denied sleep by blaring music and cold water poured on them. One of the teens told B’Tselem that during that time, soldiers burned his arms and legs with cigarettes.

One of the three teens arrested, ‘Abd a-Rahman Abu Hamisah, 15, told B’Tselem on 24 February 2016 how the soldiers captured and abused him:

A few minutes after I joined the demonstration, I went ahead with some other guys and we tore out the iron gate that’s part of the border fence. I entered Israeli territory and Israeli military jeeps started pursuing us, about five jeeps. The soldiers fired all around us. We kept running east into Israeli territory, into the vegetation. We ran a long way and couldn’t see the border any more. It was already evening and he sun had gone down. By nightfall, I realized we were in trouble and got scared. I couldn’t go back towards the border because the demonstration was over and the soldiers were occupied only with looking for us. I didn’t mean to go any further into Israel. I just wanted to get away from the soldiers and the gunfire. We kept running until 9:30 at night. The soldiers sent up flares and released dogs to pursue us.
Two dogs caught up with me. One got me by the left leg and other stood on my chest. The same thing happened to ‘Abd a-Rahman ‘Aydi, who was with me. Two other dogs attacked him. I started screaming because I was afraid of the dogs. A couple of minutes later, some soldiers came and pulled the dogs off us. Then they ordered us to undress completely and we stayed like that, naked, for a few minutes. Then we put our clothes on and the soldiers ordered us to sit on the ground.
A soldier tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. The same thing happened with ‘Abd a-Rahman. We were taken in one of the military jeeps to some military base about ten minutes’ drive away. There they took us out of the jeep, freed our hands and untied our blindfolds. One of the soldiers took me into a room with a desk and a computer. Two people in civilian clothes were sitting there. They didn’t introduce themselves. One asked for my name, which organization I belong to, and where I live. After I answered his questions, another soldier took me and sat me down on the ground in the yard of the base. He tied my hands again with plastic cable ties and blindfolded me again. They took ‘Abd a-Rahman into the room, too, and then sat him down in the yard not far from me. I could just see him from under the blindfold.
Then the soldiers put on music. There were a lot of men and women soldiers there and they started dancing. Every few minutes, one of them hit us with a rifle butt or slapped or kicked us. We stayed like that for three days, out in the yard of the base. They gave us only a bit of bread and some water and beat us every once in a while. The soldiers played soccer while we were in the yard and kicked the ball at us. We were so battered that our entire bodies ached. At night, when they knew we’d fallen asleep from exhaustion, they came over with a bucket of water and poured it on us. It was very cold, especially at night, and they constantly kept us from sleeping.
Once, when I was in a lot of pain during the night, a soldier came and took off my blindfold. He ordered me to drink a yellow liquid from a cup he was holding. I asked him what it was and he said it was medicine. It tasted bitter. My throat burned and I drank the entire contents of the cup. Then I no longer knew what was happening, I slept for several hours. When I woke up, I felt dizzy.

Soldiers watch protesters on other side of perimeter fence separating Israel and the Gaza Strip. Photo taken by demonstrators.

Tawfiq al-‘Awawdah, 17, was also one of the teens arrested. In his testimony to B’Tselem on 5 April 2016, he described the abuse he was subjected to at the military base where he was held for three days:

After I was arrested, they took me to a military base. The soldiers put me on the phone with someone. He asked my name and why I’d come to the border. Then they took me into the yard and I stayed there with the others for three days. They left us out there even though it was very cold. During those three days, the soldiers tortured us. Sometimes, while we slept, they poured cold water on us to keep us from sleeping. They wouldn’t give us any food or drink and wouldn’t let us go to the toilet. Every now and then, a soldier came and tightened the handcuffs, making it really hurt. At other times, soldiers came and beat us all over our bodies with the butts of their rifles. Sometimes, soldiers played soccer and kicked the ball at us; at other times, they put on music and kicked us in the face and all over our bodies.

Muhammad Muhsein al-‘Azazi, 15, also told B’Tselem about the violence to which he was subjected during the arrest and the abuse he underwent for three days:

One of the military jeeps caught me as I was trying to get back into Gaza. About seven soldiers got out of the jeep. Then another jeep drove up and several soldiers got out. They pointed their guns at me. They ordered me to stop and raise my hands. One of them told me to take my pants off. I refused, because he was trying to humiliate me. The soldiers came towards me and one hit me in the back with a rifle butt. He pulled my pants down and the boxer shorts I was wearing. Then he put my shorts back on and tied my hands behind my back with plastic handcuffs. They threw me face down on the ground, and then three soldiers turned me so I was lying on my right side and started kicking me with their boots and hitting me all over my body with their rifles. One blow hit me in the teeth and I broke a front tooth. I felt myself swallow it. They especially focused on hitting my stomach and I started vomiting blood.
After a while, they left me just lying there. Then another jeep drove up and stopped right beside me. The driver got out and started beating me. Then they put me in the jeep and continued beating me until we got to a military base. There they took me out of the jeep and sat me down on the ground outside. After about an hour, they took me to an intelligence officer in civilian clothes who started interrogating me. He asked me why I had come to the border and why I had thrown stones. He wanted to know the names of my relatives and where I live. Throughout the investigation I was still only in my underwear and shivering with cold.
After about fifteen minutes, they took me out of the room and brought me a shirt and pants. As they led me out of the room I saw five other guys who had been at the demonstration at the border and had also been arrested. They were all sitting on the ground, blindfolded and handcuffed. The soldiers sat me down with them. Each one of them was interrogated, one by one.
A while later, I saw the officer leave the interrogation room. One of the soldiers came over, took my clothes off again, and switched my handcuffs to narrow plastic ones. He tied my hands behind my back and tightened the cuffs until my hands really hurt. When I cried out in pain and asked them to loosen the handcuffs a bit, one of the soldiers tightened them even more. After that, every time a soldier went by, he hit me.
Three days went by like that. I sat with the other guys outside, on the ground, and they came over to beat us whenever they felt like it. Sometimes they played music and beat us in time with the music playing in the background. When we asked them for water, they brought some and poured it over our faces. Sometimes, they played soccer around us and the kicked the ball at us.
One time, when we were so thirsty we begged them for water, a soldier who spoke Arabic came over and gave me something to drink. I thought it was water but when I drank it, it tasted bitter and I felt dizzy. I realized it was alcohol. Another time – I think it was the next day – I asked for water and they gave me alcohol again. After I tasted it and refused to drink, they poured it on me.
For three days we were subjected to relentless abuse. We shivered with cold and they poured cold water over us; they kept us from sleeping; and at some point I was hit in my left shoulder with a sharp object and I started bleeding. They wouldn’t help me. They put cigarettes out on me, on my left leg and on my right arm.

On 28 December 2015, al-‘Awawdah and al-‘Azazi were convicted of infiltration and disturbance of the peace. Abu Hamisah was convicted of infiltration only. As part of the plea bargains they signed, the three teens were sentenced to four to six months in prison. In the court transcript, the judge noted that the probation officer who met with Muhammad al-‘Azazi reported that the arrest, and especially the time at the military base, were traumatic for the boy.

The accounts given by these minors paint an alarming picture of severe abuse by soldiers misusing their power with no one reining them in. The fact that soldiers can so easily turn a military base into an exterritorial area in which they can treat minors as they please with no one to control their actions is, in part, the consequence of a law enforcement system which for years has enabled security establishment personnel to employ violence against detainees, including minors, without then being subjected to any accountability.

On 2 May 2016 Israeli daily Haaretz reported that the MPIU had launched an investigation of this case. However, past experience has shown that these investigations usually lead to no further action, because they were not meant for uncovering the truth, but for creating a semblance of a functioning law enforcement system.

Suggested items

No Accountability

Human Rights in the Occupied Territories

The report surveys the broad spectrum of issues regarding the Israeli authorities' human rights record in the West Bank and Gaza Strip over the past year, the 44th year of the Israeli occupation. An interactive version of the report is available online and distributed through social media. The report documents a sharp increase in the number of uninvolved Palestinians killed by the Israeli security forces in the Gaza Strip in 2011. There was also an increase in the number of Israeli civilians killed by Palestinians, compared to 2010.

21 March 2012

אמבולנסים ליד מתחם המגורים של המשפחה בליל האירוע. התמונה באדיבות המשפחה

A Routine Founded on Violence

Soldiers hold 21 members of Palestinian family, 7 of them minors, in storeroom, and attack and beat some of them; six spend night in hospital, one remains in custody

On Sunday, 12 December 2021, at around 1:00 A.M., soldiers knocked on the door of the apartment in which Mahmoud (57) and Nidaa (55) Salhab live with their four children in the neighborhood of Khirbet Qalqas in Hebron. When Mahmoud opened the door, about 20 soldiers came in and demanded to know the whereabouts of his son Anas (24), a student at Hebron University. They then locked Anas in his room on the ground floor of the building and led Mahmoud and three of his children to an adjacent storeroom. Soldiers surrounding the building led other family members who live in the compound to the storeroom, until they were holding 21 of them, including seven minors, in the room along with 10 soldiers guarding them. From the storeroom, the family could hear Anas shouting as the soldiers beat him in the adjacent room. When his brother Ibrahim (16) tried to protest what was happening, the soldiers attacked and beat him, too. In the ensuing argument, soldiers dragged Anas’ cousin, Osama Salhab (24), along the storeroom floor, causing his head to bang into an empty aquarium, which shattered and injured him. The soldiers called a military ambulance that took him to Soroka Medical Center in Beersheba. At around 2:30 A.M., the soldiers left, taking Anas with them, handcuffed and blindfolded. They drove him around for several hours until they arrived at the Etzion Detention Center at around 8:30 A.M. At the center, he was held inside a military jeep until noon. Throughout the entire time, Anas was not given food, water or access to a toilet. He was then taken into a conversation with an ISA officer, who warned him not to participate in Hamas activities marking the movement’s anniversary. The talk lasted less than an hour, after which he was released and sent home with other students who had been called in for a similar warning. After the soldiers left, five family members were taken to the 'Alia Governmental Hospital in Hebron. Three of them were diagnosed with bruises, and two were in shock. At around 5:00 A.M., they were discharged. Osama Salhab was discharged the following day, and then arrested and charged with assaulting soldiers that night. In the dead of night, dozens of soldiers entered a compound in Hebron that is home to about 30 people. They woke the occupants, held most of them in a storeroom and attacked some of them. The result: six members of the family were taken to hospital and two detained – one of them to date. This is incident is not exceptional; it is part of the intolerable routine that the Israeli apartheid regime imposes on Palestinians in the West Bank. B'Tselem field researchers Manal al-Ja'bari and Musa Abu Hashhash collected the following testimonies from members of the Salhab family, who described their nightmarish experience: In a testimony he gave on the day of the incident, one of the brothers living in the compound, Ahmad Salhab (52), a father of four, recounted: On 12 December 2021, at around 1:00 A.M., I was woken by noises and shouting coming from my brother Mahmoud's house. I quickly went outside and my son Osama followed me. We found soldiers there and they led us to a storeroom on the ground floor of Mahmoud's house. My brother Muhammad and his son Nur a-Din (23) were already there with more than 10 soldiers, including an officer. Some of the soldiers were attacking Muhammad's son Ibrahim. Meanwhile, the soldiers brought in my niece Mariam (20), who is Mahmoud’s daughter, and my nephew Salah a-Din (19), who is Muhammad's son. They also brought in my son Amjad (27). We got into an argument with the soldiers, who pushed us and ordered us to sit still on the floor while they continued attacking Ibrahim. The argument turned into a scuffle and then some soldiers jumped my son Osama, punched him, beat him with their rifle butts and kicked him. Muhammad and I tried to wrestle Osama from their hands. They pushed us. Some of them attacked Muhammad, and other soldiers continued beating Osama. They dragged him to the corner of the storeroom, where an aquarium crashed down on his head. I saw Osama lying on the floor, motionless. I saw he was severely injured and even thought he might be dead. The soldiers dragged him outside, and I followed them. Meanwhile, two Palestinian ambulances arrived, and the paramedics put Osama in one of them and gave him first aid. Before the ambulance left, the officer ordered them to transfer Osama to a military ambulance. I heard one of the soldiers say he was going to be taken to Soroka Medical Center in Beersheba. Osama’s head was bleeding and his face was covered in blood. After he was taken away, the soldiers led Anas to a jeep that was parked nearby and drove off with him. My back and left arm were hurting from the soldiers' beating, but I didn't need treatment. My brother Muhammad, my nephew Ibrahim and my son Amjad were taken in the two ambulances to the 'Alia Governmental Hospital in Hebron. A relative also drove my nieces Mariam and Asmaa (17), Muhammad's daughters, to the hospital because they were in shock. Everyone got back from the hospital at around 6:00 A.M. Muhammad, Amjad and Ibrahim had bruises on various parts of their bodies. In the morning, I went to the police station at Kiryat Arba after my relative, who visited Osama at Soroka Medical Center, said he had been transferred there. When I got there, an interrogator took a statement from me about what happened and only then let me see my son. Osama was sitting on a chair and couldn't move. His head was bandaged and his face was wounded. The police officers told me they were transferring him to the detention center at Etzion. In a testimony he gave on the day of the incident, Ibrahim Salhab (16), Mahmoud and Nidaa's son and Anas's brother, said: I was woken by loud banging on our door. I got up quickly and went towards the door. I saw my father open it. Several soldiers came in and asked my father about my older brother Anas. When they saw me, they led me to a storeroom on the ground floor of our house. A few minutes later, they brought my uncle Muhammad and his sons in, and later they also brought my uncle Ahmad and his sons in, as well as other members of the family. The officer ordered me to sit on the floor. I didn't do immediately as he said and asked the officer what I was supposed to sit on. Then he and about 10 other soldiers attacked me. They punched me, beat me with their rifle butts, kicked me and then knocked me down. I kept shouting and asking them to stop hitting me. I asked what I'd done to them. They just told me to shut up and kept beating me. My uncle Muhmmad tried to free me from their hands, and they pushed him and made him sit on the floor. After they stopped beating my uncle and me, the officer and the soldiers moved on to my cousin Osama and attacked him. They knocked him down and dragged him to a corner of the storeroom, and then an aquarium that was standing on a small table fell on him. Osama started bleeding. His head and face were covered in blood and he stopped moving. Everyone in the storeroom started shouting, and a scuffle broke out between my uncles and the soldiers. The soldiers dragged Osama out, and my uncle Ahmad went out after them. All the other soldiers followed him outside. Ahmad came back and told us they'd taken Osama to Soroka Medical Center in an Israeli ambulance. I was exhausted and my whole body was hurting from the beating. I saw my uncle Muhammad sitting on the floor. He couldn't get up. Then I found out the soldiers had arrested my brother Anas. Two Palestinian ambulances took me, my cousin Amjad and my uncle Muhammad to the 'Alia Governmental Hospital in Hebron. In the ER I also met my two cousins, Mariam and Asmaa, who were in shock. I was examined and x-rayed, and they found bruises all over my body. I went home and straight to bed. My brother Osama was treated at Soroka Medical Center and then transferred to the Kiryat Arba police station. From there he was transferred to the detention center at Etzion. I don't know where my brother Anas was taken. In a testimony she gave on 27 December 2021, Nisrin Salhab (12), Muhammad and Intisar's daughter, recalled: That night, I was watching a Turkish show on TV. My mother and my sister Asmaa were asleep. Suddenly, I saw flashlights shining through our windows. I went over to a window and saw a lot of soldiers around the house. I quickly woke my mother and Asmaa. My mother came out of the room and was surprised to find five soldiers holding my brothers Nur a-Din (23) and Salah a-Din (19). The soldiers led us to my uncle Mahmoud's storeroom. Some of my uncles and their children were there. Everyone was sitting on the floor, and the soldiers were pointing their weapons at them. They ordered us to sit on the floor, too, and we all sat down. I sat next to my cousin Mariam, who was crying. I saw the soldiers drag my cousin Anas to another room. I heard his voice and the voices of the soldiers, and it sounded like they were beating him. I was terrified because the soldiers were being barbaric. My cousin Ibrahim got into an argument with the soldiers and they immediately started beating him. A commotion broke out and I saw my cousin Osama yelling at the soldiers in Hebrew. I didn't understand what he was saying. One of the soldiers banged his head into Osama’s forehead and then they got into a fight. At least 10 soldiers stepped in and attacked Osama. They beat him with their rifle butts and dragged him along the floor. His head hit an old aquarium, and it crashed down onto him. Osama's head and face were covered in blood. I was screaming and crying, and shaking with fear. My father and uncles tried to defend Osama, and then the soldiers attacked them and beat them, too. Mariam, Asmaa and I screamed and cried. The soldiers took us and the rest of the women and children out of the storeroom and led us to my uncle Muhammad's house on the second floor. We could hear the shouting from there and realized the soldiers were still beating my father and my uncles. Five soldiers guarded the doorway to the apartment and wouldn’t let us leave. Asmaa was crying so hard, she could barely breathe. Mariam also kept crying, and I was crying and trembling with fear. We stayed like that until the soldiers left. From the balcony, we watched them lead Anas away in handcuffs and take Osama away in an Israeli ambulance. After the soldiers left, we went down to the storeroom and saw my father lying on the floor, shouting in pain. There was blood on the floor and on the wall. Asmaa and I sat down on the floor next to my father and cried. Two Palestinian ambulances arrived and the crew took my father and my cousins, Ibrahim and Amjad, to hospital. A relative also drove Asmaa and Mariam there in his car. Asmaa was having trouble breathing, and Mariam was screaming and couldn't stop crying. In a testimony he gave on 20 January 2022, Anas Salhab (24), Muhammad and Nidaa’s son, related: The soldiers put me in the room next to the storeroom and kept demanding I give them my phone. I told them I didn’t have one. They pushed me and hit me with their hands and rifle butts. I heard my family shouting in the storeroom, but I didn’t know what was going on there. After about an hour, they led me to a jeep outside. On the way, I saw my cousin Osama lying in the yard in front of the house and heard my uncles shouting that he needed medical treatment. I saw ambulances parked on the street. The soldiers put me in the jeep and blindfolded me. The jeep drove to the settlement of Beit Hagai. On the way, I asked for a painkiller for my headache but they didn’t give me anything, not even food or drink. Then the jeep drove somewhere else, returned to Beit Hagai and finally drove to Etzion. We got there around 8:30 or 9:00 A.M. They left me in the jeep until midday without any water or food, and I couldn’t go the bathroom. Then I was interrogated by the regional ISA coordinator, Taysir. He didn’t accuse me of anything but only warned me that I shouldn’t take part in Hamas activities. I told him the soldiers had invaded our home and attacked my family and me. He said it was a troop of inexperienced soldiers who don’t know how to behave with people. I was released less than an hour later. I waited outside Etzion until they let other students I’d seen inside go, and we traveled to Hebron together. There, each of us went home. I had bruises on my shoulder and back and I was in pain for several days.

3 February 2022

סועאד אל-עמור, שלא זכתה לראות את בנה סאמי שנפטר במהלך מאסרו לאחר שנתיים שבהם מנעה ממנה ישראל לבקר אותו. צילום: ח'אלד אל-עזאייזה, בצלם, 23.11.21

The Gaza Strip

Not even a phone call: Israel cutting some 230 Gazan security prisoners off from their families

According to the Palestinian Prisoners’ Club, as of 7 December 2021, Israel is holding some 230 Palestinian residents of the Gaza Strip as security prisoners. About 70 of them are members of Hamas. In early 2020, after the pandemic broke out, Israel canceled family visits for all prisoners. The visits were renewed in mid-June 2020, with the exception of security prisoners ״who are not residents of Israel.” A statement issued by the Israeli Prison Service (IPS) stated that allowing visits to these prisoners will be examined “in the future, subject to opening the border crossings and coordinating with the Red Cross.” Since Palestinians defined as “security prisoners” are barred from talking on the phone with their families, they have no other way to stay in touch with them. In December 2020, HaMoked: Center for the Defence of the Individual filed a petition with Israel’s High Court of Justice (HJC) on behalf of eight human rights organizations, demanding that Palestinian prisoners be allowed to talk on the phone with their families. Consequently, the state allowed every “security” prisoner a single phone call throughout the month of Ramadan. In June 2021, HaMoked contacted the IPS again and demanded that it reinstate visits for prisoners from the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. About a month later, the IPS reinstated family visits for prisoners from the West Bank. The status of prisoners from the Gaza Strip, a few of whom are serving criminal sentences, remains unchanged and their families are still not allowed to visit them. This reality reflects a longstanding Israeli policy. Since 2007, Israel has imposed various restrictions on family visits for prisoners from the Gaza Strip, at times banning them altogether and at others, allowing them only subject to draconian restrictions – including banning children over 16 from visiting their parents in prison. Since 2017, the state has – with HJC approval – barred visits to members of Hamas. The ban on family visits constitutes collective punishment of the prisoners and their families. Israel has attempted to justify the restrictions by citing various security pretexts. However, its claims are baseless and cannot justify the imposition of blanket bans, the isolation of the Gazan prisoners and the great suffering caused to their families, who cannot meet or even talk to their imprisoned loved ones for months or years on end. B’Tselem field researchers Olfat al-Kurd and Khaled al-‘Azayzeh collected testimonies from the relatives of prisoners from the Gaza Strip, who have not been allowed to visit their loved ones for two years: Testimony of Iman Salem (55), wife of prisoner Majdi Salem (48) and mother of their five children: I was born near Ramallah and still have a West Bank ID card. My parents currently live in the area of Bitunya in Ramallah District. In 2014, I visited my parents in Ramallah without my husband and stayed with them for a year, and then Majdi wanted to join us. On 24 August 2015, he tried to leave the Gaza Strip via Erez Crossing. He was detained at the checkpoint and arrested on suspicion of belonging to the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. I was shocked, because I hadn’t expected him to be arrested. He was sentenced to nine years in prison, of which he's served six. I stayed in the West Bank for about a year and then went back to Gaza with the children. I applied several times through the Red Cross for permits to visit Majdi, and was rejected every time. In 2017, I was granted a permit for myself, for my daughter Wisal who was 14 at the time, and for my son Mamduh, who was six. When we got to the prison, we asked one of the guards to allow Mamduh to go behind the glass partition and hug his father, and he agreed. It was a very sad visit. I cried when Mamduh hugged his father. It was a very tough sight. That was the only visit. We haven’t been allowed to visit him since and every time, the Red Cross tells us the Israelis have rejected the request. Then the pandemic broke out, and Israel used it as a pretext to completely ban visits to Gazan prisoners. I sent my husband money and clothes through the families of prisoners from the West Bank. My husband was arrested and locked up when our children were small and really needed him. They really need to see him now, too, especially Mamduh. He keeps asking about his father and saying he misses him. Wisal also asks to see her father a lot. We haven’t been allowed to visit him for four years. I miss my husband, and my children miss their father. Even if Israel renews family visits for Gazan prisoners, of all our children, only Mamduh will be able visit his dad because he’s the only one under 16. My heart aches for him. He sees other children with their fathers and cries that he hasn’t been allowed to grow up with his father. He says, “ I want to see Dad and hug him.” We don’t have any joy without my husband, even on holidays and special events. The children feel his absence. They really need him by their side. Testimony of Iman ‘Azzam (17), the daughter of prisoner Jum’ah ‘Azzam (53): My dad was arrested on 4 December 2006 and sentenced to 20 years in prison. I was only two years old and don’t remember anything. I was a baby. My little sister Aya, who’s 16 now, was only five months old. Since my dad was arrested, he’s been transferred from one prison to another and is currently in Negev Prison (Ktziot). My mother, Sabah ‘Azzam (48), says that Aya and I went with her to visit him several times. The last visit I remember was when I was 10, and what I remember of it mostly is being frisked by soldiers. I don’t remember what my dad looked like, only the brown uniform he wore. I also remember crying when I saw him. The guards wouldn’t let me go in to hug him, but they did let younger children in. I have three brothers and four sisters who are all older and married. My sister Aya and I also got engaged a few months ago. We haven’t been allowed to visit my dad for more than a decade. When I was little, I went with my mother to a rally outside the Red Cross in Gaza. Nowadays, my brother Fadi (20) regularly attends those rallies. We demand that they allow us to visit my father. My siblings and I have grown up without a father. They took him away from us when we were little. We went through very tough times without him. I need him at every moment. He didn’t attend the weddings of my brothers and sisters: Fadi, Shadi, Yunes, Asmaa and Nidaa. It’s very sad. Even when I got my high school diploma in August, I couldn’t really be happy because I missed Dad. Even at my engagement ceremony a few months ago, I couldn’t really rejoice; I wanted him to be with me. No one can take his place. It’s hardest during the holidays. I see the children in the neighborhood with their fathers, and my dad isn’t here. I only know him from old photographs. Today, I wouldn’t recognize him. He has six years left on his sentence. I hope they pass quickly, and then I can meet him and we can be happy together. My mom has been through these years all alone. It's very hard for her. I see her sitting alone and crying over Dad. She says she's tired and can’t carry on. This is a crime against the prisoners' families. Why are they preventing visits? Testimony of Su’ad al-‘Amur (62), the mother of late prisoner Sami al-‘Amur (39), who died during surgery after not having a family visit for two years: On 1 April 2008, the military raided our home and arrested my martyr son, Sami. He was 26 and was sentenced to 19 years and 11 months in prison. That year my other son, Hamadah (35), was arrested. He was sentenced to 12 and a half years and released a year ago. In the first few years, we were forbidden to visit them after the soldier Gilad Shalit was abducted. All we could do was correspond with them via the Red Cross. After a few years, Israel renewed the visits and in 2013, we visited them for the first time. His father and I went alone because Israel wouldn’t allow their brothers and sisters to visit. At first, my two sons were held in different prisons: Sami in Nafha Prison and Hamadah in Ramon Prison. We’d meet them both at Ramon Prison on the day of the visit. On one visit, I was taken into a room alone and then they brought Hamadah in with his hands and legs tied. I saw him for one minute, shackled. I burst into tears when I saw him like that. A year later my husband ‘Abed, who’s 72 already, stopped visiting because of the long journey and the grueling security check. Since then, I've traveled alone to visit Sami. We waited for hours at Erez Crossing every time, until everyone was inspected. Once, I wasn’t let through the checkpoint. All the other visitors reached the prisons that day, and only I had to go back to Gaza. To this day, I don’t know why. When the pandemic broke out in early 2020 they stopped the visits, supposedly because of the coronavirus. Israel didn’t let us visit for two years. I joined the weekly rallies of the prisoners’ families by the Red Cross offices, demanding the visits be allowed. For two years, I was in contact with families of prisoners from the West Bank. I wired them money every time and asked them to bring Sami clothes and canteen money. In early November 2021, Sami started vomiting and ran a high fever, and was treated in prison. Then he was transferred to Ashkelon Prison. I don’t know why. It never occurred to me that he was seriously ill. On 17 November 2021, Sami passed away while he was undergoing surgery at Soroka Hospital. I learned of my son’s death through the media! It was a terrible shock. We started screaming our heads off, my husband, our children and I. Sami died far away from me after I hadn’t seen him for two years, not to mention his siblings – they hadn’t seen him since his arrest. I’m full of pain over Sami’s death, far away from his father and me, and I cry day and night. My son was a prisoner and died in prison, and now Israel is refusing to give us his body. They won’t let us say goodbye and hold a funeral for him in the Gaza Strip. I complained to the Red Cross and demanded that they help us get Sami’s body. Israel wouldn’t let me see Sami alive, and now they won’t let me see him dead. Testimony of Muhammad Abu ‘Aram (38), a married father of five and the brother of prisoner Ibrahim Abu ‘Aram (47), a father of two: The Israeli military arrested my brother at the Abu Huli Checkpoint, north of Khan Yunis, on 13 March 2003 and sentenced him to 24 years in prison. He was transferred between prisons and is currently at Ramon Prison. At first, my mother and father and his wife (Sanaa, 37) visited him every other week. But after Gilad Shalit was abducted, Israel barred all Gazans from visiting for five years. It was a very tough time for our family. We were worried and hardly knew anything about what was going on with Ibrahim. Every two weeks, one of his brothers or I went to the Red Cross offices in Khan Yunis or in Gaza to ask how Ibrahim was doing and find out if there was any news about the prison visits. In 2013, Israel allowed us to visit Ibrahim. My mother was suffering from several illnesses at the time, but she went with my father to visit him despite her condition. At the end of the visit, my mother got confused on the way to the bus, and the security forces fired next to her. If the prisoners’ families hadn’t intervened and taken her back to the bus, something terrible would probably have happened. It later turned out that my mother has memory loss (Alzheimer's). Since that incident, the occupation authorities have banned her from visiting Ibrahim. My father suffered a stroke and also had to stop visiting. He now uses a wheelchair. It’s been eight years since anyone from the family has visited Ibrahim. I go to the Red Cross offices in Khan Yunis almost every month to apply for a permit for my brothers and me to visit him. Every time, I’m told that Israel refuses to allow the prisoners’ brothers to visit them. We have no choice but to wire money to Ibrahim through the families of West Bank prisoners, and it’s a complicated and exhausting process. Because we haven’t visited him or brought him clothes for eight years, he’s now forced to buy clothes in the prison canteen, and sometimes he gets hand-me-downs from the families of West Bank prisoners. Now, in the winter, we’re especially worried about him. We’re afraid he’ll be cold and know that clothes are very expensive in prison. Because I can’t see Ibrahim or transfer him clothes and money, I always feel I’m a prisoner just like him. Ibrahim’s children, Bilal (20) and Dunia (21), last visited him when they were little and haven’t seen their dad in nine years. Father asks me every day about Ibrahim and his medical condition, and to make it easier on him I have to lie. I always tell him that Ibrahim’s okay, even though I haven’t heard anything about him. Testimony of Khadrah a-Sa’idi (69), the mother of prisoner ‘Awwad a-Sa’idi (43): When my son ‘Awwad was arrested, he was engaged. The Israeli military arrested him on 2 December 2004 at the Abu Huli Checkpoint in the central Gaza Strip, and he was sentenced to 15 years in prison. In 2012, he got into an argument with a prison guard and got four years added to his sentence. In his first years in prison, ‘Awwad’s fiancée and I visited him every other week or so in Nafha Prison. Since then, he’s been transferred between prisons several times and is now back in Nafha. Israel has banned his brothers and sisters from visiting him all along. Since 2017 I haven’t seen ‘Awwad either, because Israel has banned visits to Hamas prisoners from the Gaza Strip. Since the pandemic broke out, Israel has banned visits for all Gazan prisoners. I live with constant worry over my son. I think about him all the time. Israel is using the pandemic to prevent visits from Gaza, but it does allow families from the West Bank to visit. It’s irrational discrimination that is meant only to collectively punish Gazans. It has nothing to do with the coronavirus. When I was still allowed to visit, it was always a very difficult experience. The night before the visit, I couldn’t fall asleep for fear of missing the bus. I’d leave the house at 4:00 A.M. to wait for the bus on the main street. I stood there in the dark, sometimes in stormy weather, in the freezing cold and rain. When we reached Erez Crossing, the torture of the security check would begin. They’d put me through a scanning device again and again, and then again when we arrived at Nafha Prison. Another search, and then another long wait until the guards finished inspecting all the families who had come to visit.

27 December 2021