The Gaza Strip

No recourse: Patients cannot get proper treatment in Gaza or elsewhere

The health care system in the Gaza Strip is severely lacking and cannot fully provide for the needs of the local population. Approximately a year and a half ago, we reported on the difficulties of patients in Gaza who go untreated. Little has changed since. The flaws in the system are due, in part, to neglect over the nearly four decades of Israel’s direct occupation of the Gaza Strip, and to the Israeli siege on the Gaza Strip imposed after Hamas came into power in June 2007 - a siege with which Egypt has been cooperating for its own reasons. As part of the siege, Israel limits the import of medical equipment into Gaza. It also imposes restrictions on doctors traveling outside the Gaza Strip to pursue further medical training and specialization.

Wheelchairs at Erez Crossing. Photo by Medical Aid for Palestinians, Oct. 2011
Wheelchairs at Erez Crossing. Photo by Medical Aid for Palestinians, Oct. 2011 

One outcome of this situation is a harsh reality in which many patients need medical treatment that can only be provided outside the Gaza Strip - in the West Bank (including East Jerusalem), Jordan, or Israel. As a rule, Israeli authorities permit patients to enter Israel for medical care only in life-and-death cases. Although permits are sometimes issued for people suffering from severe but non-life threatening conditions, even then the treatment is sometimes cut short because authorities refuse to issue additional permits. The criteria for issuing permits for what Israel calls “quality of life” medical care are unknown. This leaves patients in a constant state of uncertainty. Many have no choice but to go without care, including people suffering from severe orthopedic problems, hearing and visual impairment and other grave illnesses.

Given the lengthy bureaucratic process involved in receiving a permit and the undeclared criteria for eligibility, even some patients in critical condition have not received permits in time and have not received the care they needed in time.

As noted, the bureaucratic process is an arduous one, be it for obtaining lifesaving treatment or for other medical care: patients must first get a referral from their physicians to submit to the Department of Civil Affairs in Gaza. The department schedules an appointment for the patients at the relevant hospital and files a request with the Israeli authorities for entry permits for the patients and those who are to accompany them to hospital. Once the request is filed, a few of the applicants are summoned for interrogation by the Israel Security Agency at Erez Crossing. If the Israeli authorities refuse to issue a permit, they provide no explanation for the decision. In some cases, the day of the appointment arrives with no answer from the authorities, so the patient is back to square one and must go through the whole process all over again.

In December 2015 the media reported that Israel had raised the minimum age threshold for people accompanying patients, now allowing into Israel only individuals over the age of 55. This means that in most cases, parents will not be able to accompany their children going in for treatment and often enough neither will grandparents, who tend to be young in the Gaza Strip. Admittedly, an exception to the rule can be made if the person undergoes a “security assessment”, but experience shows that this lengthy procedure is usually unsuccessful.

WHO (World Health Organization) figures: Requests by patients from Gaza to enter Israel via Erez Crossing for treatment in the West Bank, Israel or Jordan

YearTotal no. of requestsApprovedDenied UnansweredSummoned for interrogation
2015 (through October) 18,07714,1431,0352,899146
201418,26614,9215282,817179
201313,77612,120401,616178

Rafah Crossing, the only exit point from the Gaza Strip not controlled by Israel, is under Egypt’s control. But Egypt also limits passage through the crossing, in both directions. Apart from a few days a year, Rafah Crossing has been closed since 2013, effectively shutting off the only alternative route for receiving medical treatment outside of Gaza.

According to the World Health Organization (WHO) and Gaza’s Ministry of the Interior, Rafah Crossing was open for only 24 days in 2015. On four of those days, it was open only to pilgrims returning from Mecca. In 2015, only 148 Gazan patients were allowed into Egypt for treatment. In comparison, from June 2012 to July 2013, when Rafah Crossing was regularly open, Egypt allowed in for treatment some 4,000 patients a month.

From September 2015 to January 2016, B’Tselem’s field researchers in the Gaza Strip collected testimonies from patients who were referred by their doctors for treatment in the West Bank (including East Jerusalem), Israel or Jordan and submitted requests for permits to enter Israel accordingly, but were denied or received no answer.

Israel cites security considerations as the reason for the prohibition on Gazans entering its territory, based on the absurd premise that each and every applicant constitutes a potential security threat. These arguments do not justify the sweeping ban on entering Israel in order to access medical care, especially as every applicant is subjected to stringent security checks.

Giving Gazans a permit to enter Israel in order to access medical care is not an act of charity on the part of Israeli authorities. A decade after the Disengagement Plan, Israel still controls the movement of Palestinians in and out of Gaza: it controls almost all of Gaza’s land and sea borders and prevents the operation of an airport and seaport there. With few exceptions, Israel also does not allow Gazans to travel abroad via Allenby Crossing, which connects the West Bank and Jordan, or via Israeli airports.

This extensive control obliges Israel to permit Gazans, including those in need of medical care that is not lifesaving, to leave the Gaza Strip. This includes the duty to allow Gazans passage through Israel in order to reach the West Bank and Jordan. Depending on the circumstances, Israel can require individuals to undergo a security check as a criterion for receiving a permit.

Testimonies

‘Awatef Abu Daher and her son Na’im who requires urgent medical care in Israel. Photo by Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem, 7 Jan. 2016

Testimony of ‘Awatef Hamuda Hussein Abu Daher, 41, a widow and mother of four. A nurse at the Palestinian Red Crescent’s al-Quds Hospital in Gaza, she lives in Deir al-Balah. Her infant son was born with congenital defects in the heart and in other internal organs:

My husband was killed in the war in the summer of 2014, when he went back to check on our house. I was pregnant at the time. Routine check-ups during the pregnancy found that the fetus had defects in the heart, stomach and intestines. Hospitals in the Gaza Strip are not equipped to deal with these problems, so I was sent to give birth in Israel. My son Na’im was born on 11 March 2015 at Tel Hashomer Hospital in Israel.

After the birth, Nai’m was kept at the ICU in Tel Hashomer for about a month. I stayed with him and my other kids stayed with my sisters. I was on the phone with them all the time. After about a month, Na’im’s life was out of danger. My sister Ibtisam took over from me at the hospital, and I went back home to my other kids. Ibtisam stayed with Na’im for a whole month until he was discharged. Then they came home.

We were told to come back for examinations and follow-up in June 2015. My daughter Mais was sick and I was very busy with my hospital work and at home, so Ibtisam took Na’im for the follow-up in Israel.

At Tel Hashomer, they found that Na’im had blockage in a coronary artery. They hospitalized him and tried to perform cardiac catheterization on him, but it didn’t work. So they opened him up and cut off the blocked section of the artery. Na’im stayed in hospital for 18 days. During that time, I replaced Ibtisam at the hospital. I stayed there with him for about a week and then we went home to Gaza.

On 1 August 2015, I took Na’im for a check-up at the hospital, after we got a permit to enter Israel. The doctors said that his condition was stable but scheduled him for another operation on 1 December 2015. We went back to Gaza the same day. When the date of the operation drew near, I filed a request for a permit with the Department for Civil Affairs, as always. My sister was supposed to go with Nai’m.

We filed the request but got no answer. On the scheduled date, Ibtisam took Nai’m to Erez Crossing and waited for about two hours by the DCO office. The clerks there said that she didn’t have a permit. Ibtisam went back to the Department of Civil Affairs in Gaza and asked them to request a permit for me instead of her, so that we’d make it in time for the operation that day. They tried, but again received no answer from the Israeli side.

We scheduled a new date for the operation on 5 January 2016 through the Department of Civil Affairs. I filed another request for a permit for me and for Na’im, but again we received no answer. On 7 January 2016, the Department of Civil Affairs notified me that the Israeli DCO at Erez Crossing wanted to summon me for a meeting with the Israel Security Agency at the crossing. I’m still waiting for them to schedule the meeting.

Na’im is suffering from lack of oxygen. Sometimes, when he’s short of breath, he turns blue. He’s on medication. Right now he’s at my sister’s place, because she lives closer to the hospital and is also at home so she can care for him. I take him home on the weekends.

I can’t stop worrying. I’m scared I won’t get a permit, especially since I heard that Israel is refusing to give permits to people under the age of 55 who wish to accompany patients.

* Given to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh

'Ali Bashir. Photo by Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem

Testimony of ‘Ali Khader Muhammad Bashir, 46, a married father of eight and owner of a clothing store in the town of Deir al-Balah. He is hearing impaired and suffers a neurological problem:

About fifteen years ago, I started suffering from hearing problems. Five years later, I got a hearing aid with the financial help of the Deaf and Dumb Society in Gaza. Over the years, I’ve gone from doctor to doctor in the Gaza Strip and they prescribed me all sorts of medications, but nothing made me better, quite the contrary.

Three years ago, I also started suffering from problems with my balance as well as vertigo and weakening of the nerves in my legs. I don’t know if it’s connected to the hearing problems. I was hospitalized in Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis for ten days, but they couldn’t help me and my health kept getting worse. I can’t lift heavy things any more because it’s too difficult.

Every doctor who examined me diagnosed me with something else. I took a lot of drugs that the doctors prescribed but nothing helped.

A few months ago, in May 2015, I was referred to Palestine Hospital in Cairo, but Rafah Crossing was closed so I couldn’t go. Two months after the set date the doctors gave me another referral, this time to a-Najah Hospital in Nablus. The appointment was set for 15 July 2015 and I filed a request for an entry permit through the Department of Civil Affairs in the Ministry of the Interior. I waited but no answer came, so I called the department and the officials there told me that the Israeli side had refused to give me a permit.

Three months later, I got another referral for a-Najah Hospital and was told to come in on 12 October 2015. I filed another request for a permit with the Ministry of the Interior, but three days later they notified me that it was refused. I asked to renew the referral but managed only to get a referral for a hospital in Egypt, under the assumption that hopefully Rafah Crossing would be open.

Getting the referral renewed every time is a hassle and a nightmare. I have to go to Deir al-Balah again and again until I’m given the referral, and every time I have to close my store and waste an entire day running around between doctors and offices.

Nowadays I can’t keep my balance at all and I can’t stand up straight. I keep feeling that I’m about to fall down. That means that I can’t pick anything up from the floor because I can’t bend down for fear of falling over. I even have to pray seated on a chair. I still have hearing problems, too. It’s hard to hear clients, so fewer and fewer come to my store. Because of all these problems, I stopped attending family events and social gatherings.

Over the years I’ve spent a lot of money on treatments that didn’t help me at all. I spent thousands of shekels on medication that wasn’t available in government pharmacies.

*Given to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh 

'Adnan Barbakh. Photo by Muhammad Sa'id, B'Tselem

Testimony of ‘Adnan Wasfi ‘Adnan Barbakh, 51, a father of eight and former administrator in the Palestinian Authority. He lives in the a-Sheikh Nasser area in the town of Khan Yunis and has a heart condition:

In 2005 I had a serious heart attack at home. My family took me to Nasser Hospital in central Khan Yunis and the doctors said I had to undergo cardiac catheterization. They kept me there for a week and then transferred me to the Palestine hospital in Cairo, where I underwent open-heart surgery. I stayed in the Cairo hospital for about a week and then returned to Gaza, with instructions for follow-up and prescriptions for daily medication.

The illness has made my life very difficult. I’m constantly exhausted, I have to watch my diet and I have to avoid dust and strong wind. On 15 September 2015 I started feeling short of breath and felt as if I was suffocating. My sons wanted to take me to hospital but I wouldn’t go, because I thought it was an attack that would pass once I took my medicine. But my condition kept getting worse and now I feel constantly short of breath and tired.

On 20 October 2015 I went for a check-up at Nasser Hospital. The doctors said I had to undergo cardiac catheterization and revascularization. They gave me an urgent referral for surgery in al-Hayyat Hospital in Jordan and the procedure was scheduled for 1 November 2015. The idea was to leave Gaza via Erez Crossing.

I filed a request with the Department of Civil Affairs in the Ministry of the Interior and was told I would get an answer by phone within a week. A week later I hadn’t heard from them, so I went back to the department and they said they were still waiting for an answer from the Israeli side. In the meantime, my condition is getting worse every day. I get tired walking even short distances. I see how worried my family is.

In early January 2016 I was told that Rafah Crossing would open for two days, so I thought of making the journey through Egypt. But the crossing was packed with people trying to get out of Gaza. For two days running, I went there and waited for hours in long lines but couldn’t get through.

* Given to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sa’id

Ulfat Kasab. Photo by Khaled al-‘Azayzeh, B’Tselem

Testimony of Ulfat Muhammad Khaled Kasab, 16, a ninth-grader who has a defect in her pelvic bone. She lives in a-Sheikh Radwan neighborhood, Gaza City:


I was born with genu valgum (knock-knees) and had several rounds of surgery in Gaza and in Egypt, but they all failed. In 2008, I went to Egypt and underwent five months of treatment with my mother and two sisters, all of whom have the same problem. My father came with us. In Egypt, they operated on me and I traveled back to Gaza in an ambulance. Because of all the treatments and operations over the years, I’m two years behind on my studies. In 2011 I went back to Egypt with my father to see a private doctor. He told us the treatment I needed wasn’t available in Egypt.

In February 2014, I was referred to al-Makassed Hospital in [East] Jerusalem. The Israelis refused to give my father a permit so he could accompany me. My mother had surgery around that time so I went to Jerusalem with my aunt Manal. I got there on 9 February 2014 and had surgery to straighten my left leg. The doctors inserted a graft in my leg and secured it. The operation was a success. I stayed in hospital for twelve days and then went back to Gaza.

Since then, I’ve been to al-Makassed Hospital several times for follow-up and other treatments. The last time was in February 2015. On that visit, they scheduled me for another operation on 20 October 2015 to lengthen my left leg.

This time, I didn’t get a permit and missed the operation date. When I was informed that the Israeli side had refused my permit, I felt very bad and I completely broke down. I’d been hoping so much that the pain and treatments would stop and that I’d be able to walk normally without crutches and without people staring at me in the street. I’d also hoped to go back to school on a regular basis. The refusal dashed all my hopes. I was scheduled for another appointment on 8 May 2015 and again on 3 November 2015, but the Israeli side refused to issue me a permit.

Now, I take vitamins and calcium and painkillers prescribed by doctors in Gaza. I get around on crutches and my legs hurt very much. I go to school by bus, and on rainy days I prefer to stay home because I’m afraid of slipping with my crutches, making my condition even worse. Because I’ve been out of school so much, my grades have really slipped and I’m now in the ninth grade instead of the eleventh.

I was so happy when I started feeling better after the treatments in al-Makassed in Jerusalem. I started hoping that I could have a normal life after years of suffering, and that people would stop treating me like a cripple. Like all girls, I dream of studying and getting married. Now, I’m frustrated and an emotional wreck because I can’t complete the treatment.

* Given to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh אל-עזאייזה. 

Testimony of Asmaa Da’ud ‘Othman ‘Ashur, 54, a mother of seven. A homemaker who livesin Khan Yunis, she suffers from diabetes, high blood pressure and thyroid dysfunction:

In late 2012 I started suffering pain in my pelvis. I went for several medical exams and was told I had to have a cyst removed. On 13 January 2013 I underwent surgery to remove the cyst in Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis and was then sent home. A few days later, I felt terrible pain in area that was operated on and I went back to hospital. The doctors gave me painkillers and antibiotics and sent me home.

The pain lasted for several months. There were times when I couldn’t even get out of bed. The incision from the operation didn’t heal and an abscess developed there. The doctors drained the pus twice and said that the area hadn’t healed because I have diabetes. Some of the doctors said the operation hadn’t worked.

In the end, the doctors at Nasser Hospital referred me for further treatment at a-Shifaa Hospital in Gaza City. For a whole year, they examined me and took X-rays and gave me more medication and more painkillers, but they couldn’t find exactly what was wrong with me. By then, I could no longer walk.

In November 2013, the doctors referred me to al-Makassed Hospital in East Jerusalem. When I got there, the doctors couldn’t work out why I was unable to walk. They gave me medication and local treatment for the infected wound in the small of my back and sent me back home.

I’ve also been to public and private clinics in Gaza. In the end, the doctors at Nasser Hospital referred me again for treatment outside the Gaza Strip, this time to al-Mezan Hospital in Hebron. On 30 April 2014, I went to Hebron and the doctors said I needed surgery on my spine. But when I got back to Gaza, the doctors said the surgery was risky and advised me not to go through with it, so I decided against it.

I’m confined to a wheelchair. I’m also in terrible pain and can’t sleep. I keep taking sedatives and painkillers. After my latest check-ups, I was told that I am suffering from erosion of my pubis and have to undergo another operation. The doctors are afraid to perform the surgery in Gaza, so they referred me to a-Najah Hospital in Nablus.

My son went to the Department of Civil Affairs at the Ministry of the Interior several times and the hospital set my appointment for 19 November 2015. The department submitted the medical referral with a request for a permit to enter Israel, and we were told they would notify us when they had an answer, but we never heard back from them. On the day of the appointment, my son went to the department offices at 8:00 A.M. and was told that the Israeli side had denied the request without any explanation.

* Given to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sa’id

Testimony of Faruq Iyad Muhammad al-Hams, 19, a resident of Yabnah Refugee Camp in Rafah. He has a benign growth in his shoulder that is pressing on nerves, causing him intense pain and limiting movement:

Faruq al-Hams. Photo by Muhammad Sabah, B'Tselem

I am currently studying education at al-Aqsa University in Khan Yunis. Four years ago, I started feeling pain in my back. I went to the local clinic in the camp and the doctors gave me medication and painkillers for two years, but I didn’t get any better. It got difficult to move my left shoulder and things slowly got worse, to the point that it hurt too much to move my left arm. That made it difficult to sleep because lying down made it hurt even more, so I started sleeping sitting up.

I went to an orthopedist who sent me to do an X-ray and an MRI. The orthopedist checked the results and said I had a lump in my shoulder that could be cancerous. I was sent for a CT scan. The doctor who checked the scan said that the lump was benign but should be removed immediately because it’s pressing on nerves. She sent me for a biopsy that confirmed that the growth was benign.

The doctor referred me for surgery in a-Najah Hospital in Nablus and the surgery was scheduled for 4 August 2015. I filed a request for a permit through the Department of Civil Affairs but didn’t get an answer from the Israelis. The surgery was rescheduled for 16 August and I applied again for a permit, but again got no response. I set two more appointments, for 3 November and again for 8 December, but both times received no answer. In the meantime, I’ve submitted a request with the Ministry of the Interior in Gaza to go to Egypt in the hope that the crossing will be opened.

My back and left arm cause me incredible pain. My arm is almost paralyzed and I get dizzy with pain. It makes it very hard to study and I can’t attend classes regularly. I go to the university only once or twice a week and my grades have seriously slipped. My grade point average went down from 85 to 69. It’s hard to function at home and I can’t even dress without help.

* Given to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah

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בילאל אל-משהראווי במיטתו. צילום: אולפת אל-כורד, בצלם, 14.3.23

The Gaza Strip

Israel preventing 8-year-old Palestinian from leaving Gaza for medical treatment

Bilal al-Masharawi (8) from the a-Zeitun neighborhood in Gaza City has a respiratory disease and chronic pneumonia. The treatment he needs is not available in the Gaza Strip. All the adults who applied to escort him to East Jerusalem have been rejected. In February, the human rights organization Gisha filed a petition to the Beer Sheva District Court demanding that Bilal's mother be allowed to exit Gaza to accompany him to the hospital in Jerusalem, after a request she submitted for a permit was refused by the Israeli authorities on the grounds of a "security block." A request submitted by Bilal's father had also been refused on the same grounds. In a court hearing on the petition, which took place at the very same time as Bilal's hospital appointment, the state attorney tried to claim that the mother cared more about accompanying her child herself than her son's health, given that there are some 20 other relatives in Gaza who the state is willing to allow out, though he refused to reveal their names. Despite Bilal's difficult medical condition, the judge, Chana Slotky, accepted the state's position denying the mother access. All attempts by Gisha and Bilal's parents since then to find out which members of the extended family can, as far as Israel is concerned, exit Gaza as Bilal's companions have been unsuccessful. In a testimony she gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 14 March 2023, his mother, Aya (28), who also has three other children, said: My son Bilal has had chronic lung infections since birth, which have caused bronchial tube expansion, phlegm and shrinkage of the right lung. We’ve been monitored and treated in Gaza hospitals ever since he was born. All he gets there is inhalation and an injection that calms his lung. Sometimes, he’s admitted for a few days. He’s treated every month or month and a half. Because of the bad cough, he now has red spots on his face and bloodshot eyes. The infections are so bad he’s developed a small hole in his heart. In December 2022, we got to a-Rantisi Hospital in Gaza. He had a lot of tests done and the doctor told us he had a very weak immune system and lung problems, and that he couldn’t accurately diagnose him because there isn’t the right equipment in Gaza. He referred us for treatment at al-Makassed Hospital in Jerusalem. The same month, that doctor gave me a No. 1 form [referral] and a financial coverage guarantee from the Palestinian Authority, and we were given an appointment at the hospital for 8 January 2023. We already applied for an exit permit in December. At first, we put down my husband, Muhammad (30), as the escort. After we were told the application was under review, we filed another one and put my name down as the escort. But the day before the appointment, I got a text message on my phone saying I was under review and denied on security grounds, and that Bilal was also under review by the Israeli authorities. I went to the Gaza Coordination Office right away and put down my mother, Sanaa Subhi al-Masharawi (52), as Bilal’s escort. Two days later, my mother got a text message on her phone saying she was denied. While we were waiting for the permit, Bilal was monitored and treated at the hospital in Gaza. He received inhalation, antibiotic spray and an immune system boost. Every time his pain got worse and his fever went up, I took him to a-Rantisi Hospital right away for inhalation and monitoring. On 15 February 2023, at around 2:00 P.M., I went to a meeting with the Israel Security Agency at Erez Crossing. It was a very long day. I was inspected at the checkpoint, and then they put me in a room and the interrogator asked me about people I know. I told him my son was sick and needed treatment. He asked about my other children and their health. I told him my son Mu’az (11) has had pelvic issues since birth and that Asil (6) has vision problems. The questioning took a long time, and when it was over they took my ID card, which stressed me out because I was afraid they would arrest me. After about half an hour, they gave me back my ID and I went home. It was almost 6:00 P.M. We missed the first appointment and made a new one for 19 February 2023. Again, at first we put down my husband as the escort and then me, and again, we got text messages to my phone and my husband’s phone that both he and I were denied for security reasons. We went to the Gaza DCO to see what else we could do, and they told us they’d done everything possible and there was nothing more they could do. When I was in their office, I asked the clerk to check more family members. I gave him the ID numbers of Bilal’s grandparents and aunts on my husband Muhammad’s side and on my side. We checked about 20 names, and he told me everyone was denied. Bilal was discharged from a-Rantisi Hospital on 19 March 2023, after a five-day stay due to high fever and severe coughing. He is still waiting for an appointment at al-Makassed Hospital. The family received another referral and another appointment for 9 April 2023.

28 March 2023

משפחת אבו סאע בימים יפים יותר. התמונה באדיבות המשפחה

The Gaza Strip

Married but apart: Women from Gaza with spouses from the West Bank forced to raise children alone

Israel’s apartheid regime prevents thousands of Palestinian families, in which one spouse is from the West Bank and the other is from the Gaza Strip, from living together as a family in the West Bank. These families are forced to make an impossible choice between living together in Gaza – at the cost of separating from family in the West Bank and enduring the harsh living conditions and financial hardships in Gaza – or living apart, with one spouse raising the children on their own. The ban is part of Israel’s separation policy, designed to isolate the Gaza Strip and implemented since the 1990s. Israeli-imposed restrictions were tightened when the second intifada began in September 2000, peaking in 2007, when Israel put the Gaza Strip under a blockade, imprisoning residents inside it. Since then, Israel has allowed residents to leave Gaza only in rare, exceptional cases it defines as “humanitarian,” treating these permits as a gesture of goodwill towards the recipients rather than their right. Israel has made it clear that, as a rule, marriage does not justify passage between the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, and the Israeli Supreme Court upheld this position, giving it a legal seal of approval. This state of affairs belies Israel’s claim that it has no responsibilities towards Gaza’s residents after having implemented the disengagement plan in 2005. Using its near complete control over all crossings – in both the West Bank and the Gaza Strip – and over the Palestinian population registry, Israel dictates Palestinian subjects’ daily lives and meddles in their most basic relationships: with spouses, parents and other relatives. The main victims of this Israeli policy are women from the Gaza Strip who married residents of the West Bank. They are left to raise their children alone in the harsh conditions of the Gaza Strip, with no hope or certainty regarding their future. B’Tselem collected testimonies from some women forced to live in this way. Yasmin ‘Abd al-Basset (35), a resident of Gaza City, lives with her four children in the Gaza Strip. Her husband lives in the West Bank. On 6 September 2022, she told B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh how Israel has repeatedly refused her applications for a permit to travel to the West Bank, so the family can live together: I came with my family from Saudi Arabia to the Gaza Strip in 1994. In 2009, I married my husband, Muhammad ‘Ali ‘Abd al-Basset ( 37), who is originally from ‘Azzun’ Atmah in Qalqiliyah District and has a West Bank ID card. Before the wedding he entered Gaza through Rafah Crossing, alone, without his relatives from the West Bank. We lived in Gaza until 2016, and during that time had three sons; ‘Abd al-Karim, who is now 12 years old, ‘Ali, now 10, and ‘Amru, now 8. At the time, my husband worked in bookstores and at a glass workshop. In March 2016, his father fell ill, so he applied for a permit to cross over to the West Bank for me and for our three sons. The applications were approved, but when we got to Erez Crossing with the children that month, we waited for four hours and were then informed that I was denied passage and wouldn’t be able to cross. They gave no explanation. In the end, my husband crossed the checkpoint with ‘Abd al-Karim and ‘Ali. I wouldn’t let him take ‘Amru, who was still nursing and stayed with me. It was awful being separated from my two sons. I collapsed. I was afraid I’d never see them again. I had hoped to leave Gaza with my husband and the boys, but then everything went black. ‘Amru and I went back to my family’s house. I couldn’t stop crying and didn’t eat for several days. I felt that we were a burden for the family. It was terribly crowded in the house. Three weeks after my husband left, ‘Ali got sick. He had a throat infection and was admitted to hospital in Qalqiliyah for ten days. I asked my husband to send me his medical reports and applied for a permit to travel to the West Bank so I could be near ‘Ali, but my application received no response. My husband filed several applications for me to go to the West Bank, but they were all rejected by Israel. After about two months, in May 2016, my husband returned to Gaza with ‘Abd al-Karim and ‘Ali. They came in through Erez Crossing, and we all lived together in an apartment we rented. We also bought furniture and appliances, and my husband went back to work at the glass workshop. Our son ‘Iz a-Din was born on 20 February 2021. In October 2021, my husband’s father took a turn for the worse and became fully paralyzed. This time, my husband applied for a permit for himself only, in order to visit him. He received the permit and went to the West Bank. After about a month, in November 2021, he renewed his ID card and applied for a change of address for me and for the children, but we’re still waiting for the request to be approved. Now my husband is in the West Bank, taking care of his father together with his brother, and I live in Gaza with our four sons. I’m suffering terribly from our family being torn apart. My son ‘Abd al-Karim is going through puberty, and it’s hard for me to deal with him alone. He feels like he’s a grown-up, doesn’t listen to me and complains that his father is not around. He has a problem with his left eardrum and needs regular check-ups, so I take him once a month for a check-up. I noticed he has facial tics and when I ask him why, he says it’s because he’s tired and also because he misses his dad. When ‘Amru talks to his father on the phone, he’s angry, and sometimes tells him that he hates him for leaving and abandoning us, but keeps asking when he’ll take us to the West Bank to be with him. When my husband returned to the West Bank at the time, ‘Iz a-Din was only eight months old. He basically doesn’t know his father. I’m supposed to take him to a-Shifaa Hospital next week for surgery on his testicles. It’s hard for me to take responsibility for everything on my own, while their father is supposed to be by my side and helping me raise our children. I do everything I can to provide for my children, even though their demands are increasing day by day. Our financial situation is tough. I work as a librarian and my husband sends us money from the West Bank every month, but it’s not enough. My father, who lives off aid from the Welfare Ministry, can’t help. I signed the boys up for a soccer club in the summer, but because I don’t have enough money, they’ll have to stop going. In July 2022, I heard that Israel approved applications for permits to visit family in the West Bank, so I submitted an application with the Civilian Affairs department in Gaza, but I haven’t received an answer yet. I stay on top of the news to see if I can apply for a change of address. I’m still hopeful it can happen. Muna al-Astal, a 36-year-old mother of four from Khan Yunis, spoke about the difficulty of raising children alone, as her husband is in the West Bank and Israel refuses to allow the family to join him, in a testimony she gave B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh on 6 June 2022. My husband Riyad (47) and I got married in 2004 in Gaza. Riyad has a West Bank ID card and shortly after we got married, he went back to the West Bank and started working in Israel, and I stayed in the Gaza Strip. He managed to visit us in Gaza a handful of times, sometimes via Erez Crossing and sometimes via Rafah Crossing. There were two years in a row when he didn’t visit at all. The last time I saw him was a year ago. About 12 years ago, my husband submitted an application for me and for our four children, who were all born in Gaza, to register our address in Qalqiliyah. About 10 months ago, in October 2020, the request was approved. I cried for joy and prayed and thanked Allah. I sent my old ID card to my husband, so he could go to the Ministry of the Interior in Qalqiliyah and change the address, but they only changed the address of two of our four children, ‘Abd al-Jawad (15) and Dima (12). For Muhammad, who was three years old, and Maram, who turned 16 just months earlier, they did not change the address. All my joy was gone in an instant. After about eight months, they registered Muhammad on my ID card, but to this day they haven’t added Maram, even though her father and I and all her siblings are registered in Qalqiliyah. About seven months ago, I had to get Maram a new ID card with a Gaza address. Right after that, her father submitted another application for her to change her address to Qalqiliyah. Until her change of address is approved, the children and I will remain in Gaza, away from my husband. I can’t leave Maram alone in Gaza. Our youngest, Muhammad, is already four years old. He doesn’t know his father and calls my husband’s brother “Dad.” Maram has become very sensitive and cries every time she sees her friends spending time with their parents. Her daughter Maram (16) described the rift in her family in her testimony: Only my mother and my brothers received permission to change their address to Qalqiliyah, where my father has lived for a long time. The Israeli occupation refused to let me move there with them, and I’m the only one still registered in Gaza. My father lives a few kilometers from Gaza, and I can’t get to him just because there’s a checkpoint. I’m not a terrorist. I just want to live with all my family together. It’s my right to travel through all Palestinian cities without obstacles and reach him. I can’t remember the last time I woke up and hugged my father like other children. I also can’t remember the last month of Ramadan when Dad sat with around the table with us during the breakfast meal. I only see him on the phone screen, which is very hard for me because it’s not real. I wish I get the permit and we can all move in together. Hanan Abu Sa’ (34), a resident of Gaza, lived in the United Arab Emirates with her husband and three children for seven years. After her husband was laid off during the coronavirus pandemic, they had to return to the Occupeid Territories – he to Tulkarm and she to Gaza with the children. On 5 June 2022, she spoke with B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh about the difficulty of raising the children without their father and Israel’s refusal to approve their applications for family reunification. I met my husband, Ayman (34), in the United Arab Emirates and we got married there. We lived there until 2019 with our three children, who were born there: Jud (9), Ahmad (7) and Ward (5). When the coronavirus pandemic broke out, problems started at my husband’s workplace. He was working as an electrical engineer and was eventually laid off. The children and I went back to live in the Gaza Strip, and my husband returned to Tulkarm, where he was born and where his family lives. That’s how our family was torn apart. He found a job there, and he in a rental with roommates to save money. He sends about half of his salary to us. The last time we met was in October 2019, when I went with the children to meet their father in Turkey. Ward, who was two years old at the time, squealed with joy when she saw her dad at the airport. We spent three months there together, and then I went back with the children to Gaza and my husband returned to Tulkarm. Traveling with the children was very difficult, especially through Rafah Crossing. Ahmad keeps recalling the experiences he had with his father and says the only thing he wants is his dad. One night, Ward fell and hit her head and I had to take her to hospital, so I left Jud and Ahmad, who were very small, alone at home. It’s very hard to cope with the kids without my husband, especially now that Jud has a thyroid infection. She has to get surgery to remove a tumor on her neck. I’m afraid of the responsibility of consenting to the surgery alone, without my husband, because the doctors say it’s an operation that can put her at risk. Our family is in pieces. The children suffer from their father’s absence, so I try to call him whenever there’s s a good internet connection. Sometimes my husband gets within a few kilometers of Gaza and calls to say he’s close by. It makes me cry, knowing he’s so close to us but we can’t see him. I know his family in Tulkarm is also giving him a hard time because we’re torn apart. I’m scared that in the end, we’ll have to get divorced and there will be no solution. Because I live alone, people are constantly checking on me. Because of the mentality in Gaza, it’s hard for me to be independent and sometimes I have to come home before it gets dark, even if I haven’t finished my errands. It’s been almost two years since my husband last filed for a change of address for me and the children, and we haven’t received an answer yet. Update: Hanan Abu Sa’ traveled with her children to Egypt hoping to reach Jordan and from there enter the West Bank. However, she reported that after an exhausting journey and difficulties at the crossing, the Jordanian authorities denied them entry and they had to turn back. Marwah Abu Hamadah is a 37-year-old mother of three. In 2019, she and her second husband, a resident of Bethlehem, got married in Cairo. She lived with him in the West Bank for about two years, without an official status and in constant fear of being deported along with the baby she had meanwhile. When her father fell ill, she returned to Gaza, but Israel rejected all her applications to return to the West Bank. For over a year, she and her infant daughter were separated from her husband. On 26 July 2022, before her application to return to the West Bank was approved, Abu Hamadah told B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd about the hardship and uncertainty in her life: My husband, Muhammad a-Sha’er (52), a resident of Bethlehem, and I met at Cairo University in 2017, where we completed our Ph.D.s that same year. After two years, we got married in Egypt. We wanted to return to the West Bank, but it was difficult to get an entry permit because I’m registered as a resident of Gaza. Ultimately, we managed to get the permit, and I crossed Allenby Bridge on 28 August 2019. We arrived in Bethlehem, and on 9 October 2019 filed an application to change my address from Gaza to Bethlehem. The application still hasn’t been approved. We lived in Bethlehem for two years. I worked as a lecturer at Palestine Ahlia University. On 15 December 2020, I gave birth to our daughter, Misk, in Bethlehem. Because the address on my ID card is in Gaza, every time we drove to the university was hell. We took detours to avoid checkpoints, and were constantly afraid soldiers would arrest me or deport me back to Gaza without the baby. We were afraid the army would raid our house, as they sometimes do in our neighborhood. In May 2021, my father, Khalil Abu Hamadah (74), fell ill and I was afraid he would pass away before I could say goodbye to him. I decided to go to Gaza to visit him and took Misk with me. We entered Gaza without prior coordination, and got in easily because I’m registered as a resident there. I only found out later that Misk’s address is also listed in Jabalya, Gaza, and not in Bethlehem. My sons from my previous marriage, Muhammad (16) and Majd (13), live in Gaza. It had been nine years since I left Gaza to study in Cairo, and they stayed with their father, my ex-husband. When I lived in Bethlehem, I tried calling them almost every day, but he wouldn’t let me talk to them. I sometimes managed to communicate with them through my sister Najwa. Since I returned to Gaza, I’ve been seeing them twice a week. The condition Majd has had in his left ear from a young age has grown worse. His ossicles are eroding, and he has trouble hearing from his right ear. He needs surgery to remove part of the ossicle. Almost a year ago, on 31 August 2021, I heard on the news that Israel was going to approve changes of address. I applied to the Ministry of Civil Affairs in Gaza, and my husband applied at the same time to the DCO in Bethlehem. I also submitted a request to return to work at the university in Bethlehem, after the management contacted the DCO on 10 September 2021. On 7 October 2021, the DCO informed me that my request was denied as it did not meet the criteria. I filed another application on 10 October 2021 and got a security refusal on 24 October 2021. My name wasn’t on the list of 4,000 applications for changes of address by Gaza residents that Israel approved. I didn’t receive any response to my last application, from 28 October 2021. Later, on 21 June 2022, I filed to change Muhammad’s address from Gaza to Bethlehem, so he can move in with me as soon as my application to return is granted. Majd doesn’t have an ID card yet, so there’s no need to submit an application for him. I lost my job at the university and can’t find work in Gaza. My husband sends us money so I can provide for Misk, but our relationship is suffering and I feel that everything is falling apart, that my life is torn between Gaza and the West Bank. I live under terrible pressure and don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. People in Gaza look down on me because I’m far from my husband, and everyone keeps asking me why I live like this. It’s been over a year since Misk and I returned. She was five months old at the time,and since then, she’s only seen her father on the phone screen. Sometimes she grabs the phone from my hand and calls out to him: “Baba! Baba!”. My top priority now is to get Majd the best medical care and go back with Misk to my husband and to my work in Bethlehem. I ask all relevant parties to pressure Israel to help the women who are stuck in Gaza. I know of hundreds of similar cases. In what country does a woman live with her children in one place while her husband lives in another? Update: Marwah Abu Hamadah managed to book her son Majd an appointment to be treated in Bethlehem on 17 August 2022 and receive entry permits for him, her daughter Misk and herself.

13 November 2022

פאטמה אל-מסרי. התמונה באדיבות המשפחה

The Gaza Strip

The testimony of Du’aa al-Masri, whose daughter Fatimah died at the age of 19 months after Israel refused to allow her to exit Gaza for medical treatment

For eight long years, Du’aa and Jalal al-Masri tried to have children. Du’aa underwent multiple miscarriages and many expensive, painful rounds of treatment. Finally, in 2020, they welcomed their firstborn, Fatimah, pictured here on a family outing to the beach in Gaza. At nine months old she needed lifesaving treatment, but Israeli policies have rendered the healthcare system in Gaza unable to provide the care she needed. Israel would even not permit her to leave Gaza to receive treatment elsewhere, just dozens of kilometers from her home. Last March, at the age of 19 months, Fatimah passed away. In a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 30 March Du’aa al-Masri recalled: My husband, Jalal al-Masri (38), and I got married in 2012. For eight years, we unsuccessfully tried to have children. I’ve had several miscarriages and went through lots of treatments, which we sold everything we had to pay for. In the end, I managed to conceive and have Fatimah in 2020, after eight years of suffering from the treatments and medications. She gave me such joy. Fatimah was born healthy, but at nine months old, she started coughing. A cardiologist who examined her found she had a hole in her heart. She was discharged from the hospital with an inhalation device that was supposed to help her breathe. Last October, the doctors told us the hole had grown, and she had to go get treatment at al-Makassed Hospital in East Jerusalem. We got a referral for treatment outside the Strip right away. We made an appointment for her for 28 December 2021, and put my mother’s name down as an accompanying person - Yasmin al-Masri (46). The evening before, my mother got a text message that the application was still under review. We had no choice, and we made another appointment for 6 January 2022, but all we were told was that the application is still under review, so we made an appointment for 13 February 2022, and we missed it again - again we were told the application was under review. Over this time, Fatimah’s condition deteriorated, and she became very sick. The doctors suggested we try to expedite the application. We made another application and got an appointment for 27 March 2022, but the Israeli DCO rejected it because it was less than 14 days since we made the last application. I went back to the hospital and asked for a coverage guarantee for a later date and a new medical report. We filed the application again and got an appointment for 5 April 2022. Fatimah died before, on 25 March 2022. On that day, at 10:30 A.M., Fatimah woke up and had breakfast. I picked her up and washed her face. She said to me: Mama, I love you. I love baba. As I held her, I felt she was already unconscious. I opened the door of the house and started screaming. My brother-in-law Adham (40) took her from me, and we drove to the hospital right away. At the hospital, they told me she had died. I felt that Fatimah passed while still in my arms. I started screaming and crying. I can’t get over the shock and the pain. Fatimah was everything to me. Her voice has gone from the house, and I’ll never hear it again. She won’t call me mama and won’t call her father baba. I can’t look at her toys. I gave them all away, her clothes too. Saying goodbye to Fatimah was hard. She lay in front of me for an hour. I looked at her innocent face. I cried. I held her. My baby died because Israel wouldn’t let her get treatment. All of this time, we kept getting calls from al-Makassed Hospital, telling us they were waiting for us. Every time, we told them the application was being reviewed by the Israeli coordination. Fatimah was an innocent baby. If they had told me I had to send her without an accompanying person, I would have - anything to get her treatment. But they didn’t say.

25 April 2022