Mu'taz Ahmad 'Abd al-Wahab Madani, 16 – 'Askar Refugee Camp, 5 January 2025

On 5 January 2025, military jeeps entered 'Askar Refugee Camp. A group of youths, including Mu'taz Madani, 16, threw stones at the jeeps, and one threw an improvised explosive device (IED) at them. Soldiers opened fire at the youths and struck Madani. He was taken to Rafidya Hospital in Nablus, where he was pronounced dead.

Mu’taz’s mother Fatimah Madani, 52, a mother of four, said in a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb'i on 16 March 2026:

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On Sunday, 5 January 2025, at around 7:00 A.M., I woke Mu'taz up for school. He got up immediately and took a shower. He loved order and cleanliness and always laid out his clothes and things the night before. After showering, he kissed me and left.

Before he went, he told me he was planning to go with friends to Nablus city center for the anniversary celebrations of the founding of Fatah. He said they would hang out and get shawarma and that he might get home late. I told him not to stay out late because he had classes and a technology exam. He said the test was easy and he would get a high grade.

Later that day, a bit after 3:30 P.M., I called him. He said he was in the camp with friends. I asked him to get me a few things and he came quickly to bring them to me. He asked for pocket money. I reminded him I’d given him some that morning, and he said I’d had promised to spoil him that day. I gave him money and he grinned happily.

That evening, around 6:30 P.M., my sisters and my daughter Najah were visiting. After they left, I heard there were military forces near Tal 'Askar. I called Mu'taz and asked where he was. He said he was in the camp buying a hotdog, which he loved. I told him there were troops in the camp. He said he would come home immediately, as he always did.

But he never came back. I kept calling him, but he didn't answer. I told my husband and my son Murad, and they went looking for him. Around 7:40 P.M., I saw a report on Telegram that someone was injured in the Tal ‘Askar area. I called my husband, Murad, and the mother of one of Mu’taz’s friends, who said he wasn’t home. Later we learned someone was killed. I was shaking with fear. Why wasn’t he home? Why wasn’t he answering the phone?

When my son Murad called and said he couldn’t find him, I told him someone killed. He tried to reassure me that the paramedic had said it was a 22-year-old. Soon after that, my husband’s brother came and told us the army had grabbed Mu’taz and beaten him badly, and he was in hospital.

I got dressed immediately and drove there with my husband. He called a friend who works there, and we learned Mu’taz was dead. It was a terrible shock. I fainted.

I woke up at the hospital. I couldn’t believe it. I asked to see him. He was lying on a bed covered with a thin sheet, without a shirt after resuscitation attempts. I saw the wound under his neck and on his chest. I hugged him and smelled him, but they pulled me away.

I was taken home, and since then our lives have been consumed by the pain of loss and all the memories. The pain gets worse every day, and I miss him more and more. My husband and I are home alone now. Mu'taz was our spoiled baby and the only one still living at home. His older brother, Murad, 32, and his sister Najah, 24, are married. His brother Muhammad, 30, has been in prison for 12 years. Mu’taz was the one who kept me company at home.

Mu'taz was our whole world. He was a loving child who helped with everything, especially because my husband has been ill for many years. He took care of everything around the house – he did the shopping, and handled things with local offices and services. He was a gentle, loving boy, including towards his nieces and nephews. He especially loved Murad's daughter Roz, and used to save his pocket money to buy her chocolate.

Our lives have changed completely. This year he was supposed to take his matriculation exams. Whenever I hear about students now, I imagine him among them.