The Gaza Strip

Israeli human rights organizations: Clear and present danger to the lives of tens of thousands of civilians

An Israeli Call for Urgent Humanitarian Action In Gaza

9 Israeli human rights organizations publicly called on the government and army today to stop the disproportionate harm to civilians in the Gaza Strip, in the light of clear and present danger to the lives and well-being of tens of thousands. In a joint letter to Prime Minister Olmert, Defense Minister Barak, Chief of Staff Ashkenazi, GOC Southern Command Galant, and Attorney General Mazuz, the organizations wrote:

Since the beginning of the campaign in Gaza on December 27, a heavy suspicion has arisen of grave violations of international humanitarian law by military forces. After the end of the hostilities, the time will come for the investigation of this matter, and accountability will be demanded of those responsible for the violations. At this point we call your attention to the clear and present danger to the lives and well-being of tens of thousands of civilians.

The level of harm to the civilian population is unprecedented. According to the testimony of residents of the Gaza Strip and media reports, military forces are making wanton use of lethal force which has to date caused the deaths of hundreds of uninvolved civilians and destroyed infrastructure and property on an enormous scale. In addition, Israel is also hitting civilian objects, having defined them as "legitimate military targets" solely by virtue of their being "symbols of government."

Caught in the middle are 1.5 million civilians in extreme humanitarian distress, whose needs are not being adequately met by the limited measures taken by the army. That distress is detailed in the Appendix to this letter. Its main points are as follows:

  1. The fighting is taking place throughout the Gaza Strip, whose border crossings are closed, so that residents have nowhere to flee, neither inside the Gaza Strip nor by leaving it. Many are unable to escape from the battle zone to protect themselves. They are forced to live in fear and terror. The army's demand that they evacuate their homes so as to avoid injury has no basis. Some people who did escape are living as refugees, stripped of all resources.

  2. The health system has collapsed. Hospitals are unable to provide adequate treatment to the injured, nor can patients be evacuated to medical centers outside of the Gaza Strip. This state of affairs is causing the death of injured persons who could have been saved. Nor are chronic patients receiving the treatment they need. Their health is deteriorating, and some have already died.

  3. Areas that were subject to intensive attacks are completely isolated. It is impossible to know the condition of the people who are there, whether they are injured and need treatment and whether they have food, water and medicine. The army is preventing local and international rescue teams from accessing those places and is also refraining from helping them itself, even though it is required to do so by law.

  4. Many of the residents do not have access to electricity or running water, and in many populated areas sewage water is running in the streets. That combination creates severe sanitation problems and increases the risk of an outbreak of epidemics.

This kind of fighting constitutes a blatant violation of the laws of warfare and raises the suspicion, which we ask be investigated, of the commission of war crimes.

The responsibility of the State of Israel in this matter is clear and beyond doubt. The army's complete control of the battle zones and the access roads to them does not allow Israel to transfer that responsibility to other countries. Therefore we call on you to act immediately as follows:

  1. Stop the disproportionate harm to civilians, and stop targeting civilian objects that do not serve any military purpose, even if they meet the definition of "symbols of government."

  2. Open a route for civilians to escape the battle zone, while guaranteeing their ability to return home at the end of the fighting.

  3. Provide appropriate and immediate medical care to all of the injured and ill of the Gaza Strip, either by evacuating them to medical centers outside of the Gaza Strip or by reaching another solution inside the Gaza Strip.

  4. Allow rescue and medical teams to reach battle-torn zones to evacuate the injured and bring supplies to those who remain there. Alternatively, the army must carry out those activities itself.

  5. Secure the proper operation of the electricity, water and sewage systems so that they meet the needs of the population.

Participating organizations:

Adalah - The Legal Center For Arab Minority Rights In Israel, Amnesty International Israel Section, Bimkom - Planners For Planning Rights, B'Tselem - The Israeli Information Center For Human Rights In The Occupied Territories, Gisha - Legal Center For Freedom Of Movement, Hamoked - Center For Defence Of The Individual, Physicians For Human Rights - Israel Public Committee Against Torture In Israel, Yesh Din - Volunteers For Human Rights.

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מוחמד אבו סכראן, בן 17, כשנה לאחר פציעתו. צילום: אולפת אל-כורד, בצלם, 1.8.22

The Gaza Strip

Time does not heal all wounds: Gazans injured in the May 2021 fighting describe life one year on

About 15 months after the round of fighting that took place in Gaza in May 2021 (operation “Guardian of the Walls”), Israel rained fire on the Gaza Strip once again, launching a new “round” of fighting (Breaking Dawn). The fighting in August 2022 lasted three days and claimed the lives of 49 Palestinians. Over the past few months, B’Tselem has spoken to several of the wounded in the May 2021 fighting, who are still struggling to rehabilitate themselves. In that round, 233 Palestinians were killed, including 38 women and 54 children. More than half took no part in the fighting. According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, tens of thousands lost their homes and dozens of health care, and infrastructure facilities were damaged. The wreckage of buildings and fallen utility poles blocked streets and roads, impeding the passage of ambulances and other vehicles evacuating casualties. The damage to the electricity grid and the water infrastructure also made it difficult for hospitals to operate. In their testimonies, the wounded give their personal perspective on how they and their families are coping with the challenges of rehabilitation. In addition to the personal stories, the testimonies shed light on the wider context in which the wounded from this round of fighting, and previous ones, live as they desperately try to rehabilitate. Rehabilitation after a serious injury is a tough process under any circumstances, with complex physical and mental health aspects. In Gaza, however, it is tougher still, as the number of wounded keeps growing from one round of fighting to the next, while Gaza’s health infrastructure continues to crumble as a result of the Israeli blockade. According to the World Health Organization, two out of 30 hospitals in Gaza stopped functioning during the May 2021 fighting due to damage, and the others functioned on a partial basis only. In addition, 57 out of 93 primary care clinics stopped functioning, while the rest functioned partially. Gaza’s health care system is grappling with a dire shortage of medicine, equipment and physicians, particularly doctors with up-to-date training. Despite this, as part of its blockade on Gaza, Israel continues to restrict the entry of medicine and advanced medical equipment into Gaza and denies physicians exit for training, further harming the wounded and denying them proper rehabilitation. Israel also denies many of the wounded access to medical institutions in the West Bank, just a few dozen kilometers away, to receive medical treatments they need and are not available in the Gaza Strip. According to Handicap International, there are currently about 50 non-governmental rehabilitation centers in Gaza that rely on funding from foreign foundations. They suffer from staff shortages, have trouble training staff, and are only able to offer physiotherapy and psychosocial support. Occupational rehabilitation with assistive devices, for instance, is rarely available. When it comes to prosthetic limbs, Gaza currently has only two orthopedic rehabilitation facilities, one run by the Red Cross and the other, established in March 2022, operating with Qatari funding. Israel eschews responsibility and has absolved itself of any payment of compensation for almost all injuries, citing “warfare action” through legislative enactments, leaving Palestinian claimants with infinitesimal odds of receiving monetary compensation for the harm and suffering Israel caused them. Victims of the fighting in Gaza suffer extreme financial hardship and have no access to the kind of support that can enable rehabilitation. They live in constant fear and terror of more rounds of fighting, with the feeling that at any given moment, they could once again become targets for Israeli fire. We spoke with young adults and students who were severely injured, as well as parents of severely injured children, some of whom have lost family members and some have sustained permanent disabilities. They described their daily struggles, as they cope with debilitating physical and psychological injuries. Testimonies collected by B’Tselem field researchers in the Gaza Strip: Testimony of Muhammad Abu Sakran (17) from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, who was severely wounded by a missile that landed in the doorway of his home and killed his grandfather and his father’s cousin. He still has a motor disability in his legs and in one hand, and life-threatening shrapnel lodged in his head. He gave his testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 1 August 2022. I was badly injured in the war last year. On the last day of Ramadan, 12 May 2021, at around 8:30 P.M., I was at home with my grandfather and my father’s cousin when suddenly, a missile was fired at our house. I spent a week in the ICU at a-Shifaa Hospital. Over the past year I’ve been treated at the El Wafa Rehabilitation Hospital, on the Doctors Without Borders wing. I’ve undergone surgery on my left leg and have had physiotherapy, occupational therapy and psychotherapy. Before the injury, I had a normal life. I went to a vocational school every day from 7:00 A.M. to 2:00 P.M. I liked carpentry class and gym class, and hung out with friends a lot. After school, I’d have lunch at home and then work a little at repairing bikes, which was a hobby of mine. I also helped my grandfather plow land and tend to his crops. Since the injury, I’ve stopped going to school and stay home most of the time. I have unbearable headaches and can’t use my right hand because of a neurological problem. When I do go outside, I use crutches. I hate them and the way my body looks, deformed by the shrapnel. I get irritated easily and am aggressive with my brothers. It’s killing me mentally. My medical condition is not improving and I simply can’t do anything on my own – no sports, no cycling. Whenever I see our front door, it reminds me of the missile that hit our home and killed my grandfather and my father’s cousin, so I withdraw into myself and cry. I watch shows and movies on my phone most of the time, but nothing makes me happy anymore. I keep remembering my time in hospital after the injury and thinking about my grandfather, who would take me to work with him. My life has become a nightmare of memories and pain. Testimony of Muhammad’s father, Hisham Abu Sakran (44) That night, Muhammad was home with his grandfather, Ahmad Ibrahim Abu Sakran (64), and my paternal cousin Muhammad Nahed Abu Sakran (25). Suddenly, a missile was fired at the house and they were both killed. Muhammad, who was next to them, was severely injured. When the missile landed, I was on the second floor. I rushed downstairs and found my father dead. I saw Muhammad lying next to Muhammad Nahed, and there was a lot of blood. There was smoke and debris everywhere. I picked them both up and carried them out to a car that was there, which took us to a-Shifaa Hospital. Someone brought my father to the hospital, too, and the doctors told me he’d been killed. Later, my cousin Muhammad Nahed also died of his wounds at the hospital. I was told my son had been martyred. Someone else said he was in the ICU and needed a blood transfusion. At around 1:00 A.M., the doctors asked me for blood for Muhammad. I waited until 3:00 A.M. without knowing how he was, and then I was told he was still in a very serious condition. They told us to pray for him. When I went into the room to see him, he was lying in bed without moving, hooked up to tubes everywhere. I couldn’t process it. I left the hospital and went home to say goodbye to my father and bury him. Muhammad spent a week in the ICU, and then he lay in hospital for about two months. My son Tamer (38) stayed with him the whole time he was in hospital. He had trouble talking and couldn’t eat or drink. After two weeks on the ward, he was able to eat light food. From there, he was transferred to El Wafa Rehabilitation Hospital and put on the Doctors Without Borders wing for two months, where he had physiotherapy and occupational therapy. He was barely able to move at that point – he had trouble moving his right hand because of neurological damage, and had fractures in his left leg and shrapnel in the right. He got a lot of stitches and they put platinum in his legs. He was in constant pain and I was there most of the time, to help him as much as I could. After about two months at El Wafa Hospital, his platinum implants were corrected at a-Shifaa Hospital. Then I took him home, where his mental health just kept deteriorating. He stopped eating and drinking almost entirely again, and got angry and yelled most of the time. We went to Doctors Without Borders again, and they gave him mental health support. He also continued with physiotherapy there, and in May 2022 the outer platinum was removed from his left leg and the bone was treated. Now he uses crutches. Muhammad’s body is full of shrapnel and he’s still very weak. The doctors say he’s in danger because of a piece of shrapnel that’s stuck in his head, close to his brain. We’ve been warned he must never bang his head, because the shrapnel might move and damage his brain. Even sneezing could cause it. Until he was injured, Muhammad studied carpentry at the vocational school in Gaza. He hasn’t gone back to school since then and stays home most of the time. He’s very anxious. Testimony of ‘Abdallah Islim (23) from Gaza City, who was severely injured by a missile Israel fired at a car near which he was standing. Six people were killed in the attack, including a friend of his and a relative of the friend. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 18 May 2022. On 12 May 2021, at around 10:30 A.M., I was walking with ‘Abed al-Ghazali (28) to the restaurant we worked at on al-Wihada Street, in order to open up despite the bombings. When we got to al-Mughrabi Street, we ran into ‘Abed’s cousin, Nader al-Ghazali (46), outside the sewing shop he works at and chatted with him for a while. Just then, a car stopped a few meters away from us. I caught a glimpse of three passengers inside and suddenly, there was a strong blast. ‘Abed flew up in the air and hit the steel door of a store near us. I stayed put. There was blood everywhere and I felt very dizzy. I moved a few meters away and I realized I’d been hit by shrapnel along the entire rightside of my body. I fell down and recited the Shahadatein [“There is no God but Allah, Muhammad is Allah’s prophet”]. About three minutes later, there was another bombing. I felt I’d been hit in the stomach. I got up and walked a few meters to a nearby drugstore, and asked the pharmacist to help me check on ‘Abed. I was bleeding from the right eye and my clothes were soaked in blood, so he got scared and called out for help. A few young guys who were there drove me to a-Shifaa Hospital in their car. After three days in hospital, I was told ‘Abed and his cousin Nader had been martyred. I stayed in hospital for 15 days. In July 2021, I had abdominal surgery, but they couldn’t get all the shrapnel out and I’m still in pain. I also had chest surgery and some of my bones were removed. Since then, I’ve also been suffering from shortness of breath and chest pain, and I have trouble sleeping at night. I’ve have hearing loss in my right ear and the retina in my right eye is damaged. I don’t go out of the house much. I couldn’t go back to the restaurant, so I’ve lost my livelihood. I was the sole provider for my family, and now the whole family is suffering. Before that, we wanted for nothing. We ate well and I provided for everyone’s needs. I also paid university tuition for my sister Hanadi (24) and my brother Shadi (19), but they only managed to finish one semester and then I couldn’t cover their tuition anymore because of the injury. Before my injury, I managed to save up about 2,000 USD to buy a transit car for extra income, but I’ve spent almost all my savings on my medical care. Ever since I’ve been out of work, our situation has been getting worse. I don’t know how we’ll be able to go on. Testimony of Mu’awiyah al-Wahidi (43), a father of two from a-Zeitun neighborhood in Gaza City, who lost his right leg when a missile fired by Israel landed near his workplace. He gave his testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 18 May 2022. On 12 May 2021, at around 11:00 A.M., I was in my barbershop when suddenly, I heard a loud explosion outside. Right after that, Nader al-Ghazali (46) came into the barbershop in a panic, saying: “Help, Mu’awiyah! I can’t breathe!” He was in a terrible state. I took him outside and we walked about 30 meters from the barbershop. He was bleeding from the mouth, and then he fell down. I tried to give him first aid. I looked at the street and saw at least four martyrs lying near the car that had exploded. I recognized Sa’id al-Hittu and his wife Maysoun al-Hittu among the dead. Three minutes later, another missile landed right next to us and Nader was instantly killed. My right leg was severed and didn’t stop bleeding for 20 minutes. Everyone around me was in a panic – we were all scared there would be another airstrike. People gathered round me and called an ambulance. When it came, the paramedics took me and left all the martyrs on the street. I was taken to a-Shifaa Hospital and must have blacked out on the way. At the hospital, I was taken into surgery and my right leg was amputated. I later found out they’d planned to amputate my left leg, too. It was in a bad state, but they decided to treat afterwards. After a week in hospital, I was transferred to the care of Doctors Without Borders, which treats injured people and also operates at al-Awda Hospital in the northern Gaza Strip. I remember hearing the Israeli airstrikes on the way. I was discharged after about 40 days there, with an amputated leg and a lot of problems in the other leg. That was when my ordeal really started, and it’s been going on for a year now. To this day, my whole body is in pain. Twice a week, a team from the National Physiotherapy Authority visits me at home. My left leg is barely there and I need a hydraulic prosthetic, which should carry some of my body weight and make it easier for me to walk. But at Hamad Hospital in Gaza they told me they wouldn’t be able to help me get it, because Israel isn’t allowing prosthetic parts into Gaza. There’s a special wheelchair, too, that could make it easier for me to work, but it costs about 1,500 US dollars and I can’t afford it right now. One of the charities gave me an electric wheelchair that helps me move around outside, and sometimes I get donations from people. I live on the fourth floor without an elevator and it’s very difficult for me to go up and down the stairs, so I stay home most of the time. I feel like a burden to my family. Because I can’t help around the house anymore, my wife is also overworked and she’s started to suffer from a herniated disc in her back. My helplessness is affecting the entire household. My two sons, Sadim (8) and Siraj, (11), were top students. Since my injury, their grades have gone down. They see me so upset that I break things at home. It’s been a year since my injury and it’s still really hard to get out of this mental state. I became a victim of the Israeli army while I was at work, even though I was no threat to Israel in any way. Sometimes, when I go to the barbershop, I see the burning car and the martyrs lying on the ground in my mind’s eye. I remember how I picked up the martyr Nader al-Ghazali and ran from the other missile. It makes me cry and choke up every time. Once in a while, I try to go to the barbershop, but when a client comes in and asks for a haircut, I can’t always do it. All I want is to get the barbershop running well again and go back to work. I worked as a barber for 25 years and was the only breadwinner in our house. Despite my handicap, I get no disability pension from anyone. I feel like I’ve gone from business owner to beggar. Testimony of Ishaq Fayad (51), a father of six from Beit Hanoun in the northern Gaza Strip, who lost his right leg when a missile hit his home directly. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 19 May 2022. On the night of 14 May 2021, we were hosting about 60 relatives, half of them children, in our house on al-Ba’ li Street in central Beit Hanoun because our area was considered safer. Shortly before midnight, we heard explosions that kept getting closer to us. When they grew louder, everyone started shouting in fear. I tried to reassure them and told them they were safe. I went up to the top floor. When I got there, while I was still in an open-air part of the stairwell, there was a big explosion that threw me at least three meters away. A few seconds later, there was another explosio n from a missile that hit the neighbors’ house. Rubble from the walls and roof of our building was scattered everywhere. Only the pillars stayed standing. My right leg was nearly cut off. It was still connected by a piece of skin and an artery, and I tried to pull it towards me. Shrapnel from the missile had hit my left leg and it didn’t stop bleeding. I crawled down the stairs to the ground floor. When I got to the street, I saw a lot of people running in a panic, looking for family members. I was dizzy. My son Ibrahim (22) and his wife Ghazal (22) carried me to the house of our neighbors, the a-Z’anin family, where they tied my leg to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later, they took me outside so an ambulance could take me to hospital. About 15 minutes later, an ambulance arrived and took me to hospital in Beit Hanoun. There, I was bandaged, and then I was transferred to the Indonesian Hospital in Beit Lahiya. My son Jasser (23) went with me. I must have blacked out along the way. I woke up the following afternoon in hospital. Four days later, I was transferred to Nasr Hospital in Cairo, where I had about ten operations on my legs. I was also fitted with a fixator on my right leg. I was in terrible pain and lost a lot of weight during that time. I looked like a skeleton and was barely recognizable. My mental health was very poor. I’m lucky my wife Warda was there with me the whole time, supporting me. I stayed in hospital in Cairo for nine months, and on 13 March 2022 went back to Gaza. I continued treatment with Doctors Without Borders at al-Awda Hospital. The doctor there told me my right leg had to be amputated. I was shocked the situation was so bad. About three weeks later, my leg was amputated. I had two more operations on my leg, and I’m still having physiotherapy. I’ve also developed diabetes and hypertension but unfortunately, government drug stores in the Gaza Strip don’t carry the medicine I need, so I have to pay for it out of pocket. For instance, the pill I take for leg infections, Flucoral, costs 13 shekels (~4 USD) a pill. Since my leg was amputated, I’ve barely left the house, because I live on the second floor without an elevator. I’ve already fallen down the stairs. Before the injury, I was always on the go because I trade in sheep and goats. I’m not used to being unemployed and sitting at home. At least close friends come over to keep me company sometimes. Testimony of Majd al-’Ajleh (21), a law student from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, who was injured by a missile fired by Israel when he was standing near his home. Since then, he has had a motor disability and speech difficulties. He gave his testimony to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah on 26 May 2022. On Sunday, 15 May 2021, I set out from my house in a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood. When I was still close by, at around 1:00 P.M., a missile fired from an airplane landed near me. Three of my cousins were killed in the strike: Yihya al-'Ajleh (24), Seif a-Din Abu al-'Ata (18), who had fled from his home in the eastern part of the neighborhood and was killed near his uncle’s home, and Muhammad Bhar (17), who was killed in the doorway to his brother’s home. My brother Muhammad and I were severely injured. I woke up at a-Shifaa Hospital after I was unconscious for 25 days. During that time, I had head surgery because of a fracture in my skull and abdominal surgery because of shrapnel that entered it and caused hemorrhaging and damage to the intestine. On 11 June 2021, I received a permit to go to al-Ahali Hospital in Hebron, where I had surgery on my right leg and arm. I was discharged from there about six months later, on 5 December 2021, and returned to Gaza unable to walk or talk. The head injury paralyzed the right side of my body, which is why I couldn’t move my right leg and arm. They’re both still in a cast. I still need a bone transplant on the left side of my skull. I’ve had months of physiotherapy and speech therapy at the ICRC hospital in Gaza, but I still have a hard time talking and walking. I’m using crutches until I get a prosthetic fitted at Hamad Hospital. My life has changed since the injury. My arm and leg are paralyzed, and I hate being treated like a disabled person and seen as handicapped. I need help most of the time because of the paralysis, and I’ve come to realize my life won’t go back to what it was. I see a psychotherapist to help with the mental challenges. Until the injury, everything was normal – I was a third-year law student at al-Azhar University in Gaza. But I haven’t gone back to school because of my condition. My dream was to go into law so I could help people exercise their rights. My mother also wanted her eldest son to be educated and successful. I’m worn out asking my mother and brothers for help all the time. They help me get dressed, eat, drink and go to the bathroom, and also come with me to all the treatments. I can’t move around freely, or even just go outside or hang out with friends. I’ve lost some of my close friends, who feel I’ve become a burden. I go from one treatment to another, from one hospital to another, hoping this suffering won’t last too much longer. Testimony of Lina al-Matrabi’i (27), a mother of three from a-Sabra neighborhood in Gaza City, whose five-year-old daughter Sarah was severely injured when a missile fired by Israel penetrated the ceiling of her home. She gave her testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 22 May 2022. On 14 May 2021, at around 8:30 P.M., my husband Zaher (43) was sitting in the living room and I was feeding five-year-old Sarah when suddenly, without any warning, a missile fell through the ceiling of the room. The apartment above us had been bombed. Sarah and I were covered in debris and I was afraid my husband had been killed, and that our house was marked as a target by the Israeli army. Sarah kept crying under the rubble. I managed to pull her towards me, and then my husband came and got her. I was about five months pregnant and shrapnel from the missile penetrated my belly, back and right arm. I put on my prayer clothes and we took Sarah outside to look for an ambulance or another car to evacuate her. She fainted several minutes later, and only then an ambulance came and took her to a-Shifaa Hospital. She was put in the ICU. She had damage to the skull that caused meningitis, an open fracture to the spine, and shrapnel that penetrated her spine and paralyzed both legs. The doctors told us her injuries were very dangerous and asked us to pray for her. Sarah woke up three days later, and they only let us see her after six days. Then she was transferred to the pediatric surgery ward at a-Shifaa Hospital for four days. She was in really bad shape and couldn’t see or talk. Ten days later, on 24 May 2021, we got permission to travel to Jordan, and we traveled through Erez Crossing to al-Hussein Hospital. There, she had more than ten operations on her back, which included rehabilitating her spinal cord and fixing it in place with screws. She also had skin graft surgery on her legs. She was in a terrible emotional state and barely ate. She kept bursting into tears or shouting, and had nightmares. She had psychotherapy there, too. About four months later, on 23 September 2021, I gave birth to my little boy, ‘Abdallah, in a C-section at the hospital in Jordan. It was one of the hardest times of my life, recovering from the C-section while Sarah was going through rehabilitation. About six months after Sarah’s injury, on 17 November 2021, we went back to Gaza. She was still in pretty bad shape. She couldn’t walk and was confined to a wheelchair. To this day, her condition hasn’t improved. The doctors at Hamad Hospital in Gaza referred her to physiotherapy and I take her every week or two. Sarah is also incontinent, so I drain her urine with a catheter and change her diapers regularly. Because my husband is out of work, we can’t give Sarah what she needs, so we sometimes get diapers donated by charities and aid organizations. We’re renting an apartment for 500 shekels (~USD 153) a month on the first floor of a building with an elevator, so it’s accessible for Sarah. Although Sarah’s condition isn’t stable yet and she’s tired most of the time, I take her to preschool when she’s not getting treatment. Thank God, she loves her friends and they help her and never leave her on her own. She doesn’t really understand the situation, and sometimes asks why the army bombed her and why she’s still sick. I reply that she’s strong. I have to hold her when she bathes, and I also dress her. It’s very hard and tiring, but even though it’s exhausting, I want her to stay as active as possible – so maybe it will take her mind off her disability for a little while. When she’s home, she crawls on the floor or sits on the couch or in the wheelchair. She’s still afraid all the time that something bad is about to happen, and she asks us not to mention the injury or the war. Sometimes, when she looks in the mirror, she asks me to cover her legs because it’s hard for her to see them. Every once in a while, I insist she let herself look at the injury, because maybe it will make it easier for her to accept the situation. She gets spooked by loud noises and is too afraid to stay home alone, so I take her a lot to the beach boardwalk, so she can let go and relax. What did Sarah do wrong? All she was doing was sitting at home having dinner. They bombed us without warning and robbed my daughter of every beautiful thing she had in her life. My heart is broken, but I try to stay strong around Sarah and hide my pain from her. Now she needs to be reassessed at a hospital outside Gaza, because the resources she needs aren’t available here. She’ll only be able to get better care outside Gaza, in hospitals in Arab countries, in Israel or in Europe. Testimony of Hibah al-Bahtiti (32), a mother of six from a-Shuja’iyeh neighborhood in Gaza City, whose six-year-old daughter Farah was severely wounded outside her house by a missile fired by Israel. She gave her testimony to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 19 May 2022. On 12.5.21, the last day of Ramadan, at around 2:00 P.M., I sent my youngest daughter, Farah, out of the house to buy some things nearby. My sister-in-law Siham (30) was cleaning the stairs at the time. She was worried about Farah and called out to her to come back. Suddenly, there was a strong explosion outside. All the glass from the windows and stones from the building flew through the air. Siham yelled: “Farah’s been martyred!” I ran outside and saw a car going up in flames. Inside it was a martyr I didn’t recognize. There were a lot of injured people scattered near the car. Farah was lying on the ground, unconscious, quite close to our house. She was bleeding all over. I went into shock and was afraid she’d been martyred. It crushed me. Her aunt Wafa (23) yelled that Farah was still alive and started looking for a car to get her out of there. She was taken to the ICU at a-Shifaa Hospital, where they said she was very severely injured. Half an hour after Farah was evacuated, another ambulance came and took away Siham, who’d been injured by shrapnel in her left foot. Farah was unconscious for 12 days. That’s a very long time, and I was afraid she wouldn’t wake up. They only allowed her one visitor in the ICU, so my husband Rif’at (39) went. He said she was in very bad shape and that her left leg and arm were completely shattered. I could do nothing for her but pray. Farah had several operations, including a colectomy, and was fitted with platinum implants in her arm and leg. When she came out of the ICU, she didn’t talk and couldn’t hear well. She didn’t recognize any of us and for two weeks, I thought she had gone deaf or lost the ability to speak. I brought her brothers, cousins and friends to see her, and she started responding a little more. We filed several applications for a permit to go to a hospital in Jordan. We only got a permit to leave via Erez Crossing on 3 June 2021. I took her through Erez Crossing to the rehabilitation hospital in Jordan. The back of her head was injured and she had shrapnel in her lungs, abdomen, left arm, feet, left eye and right ear. The shrapnel in her left hand caused neurological damage to the wrist, and the shrapnel that penetrated her feet damaged the tendons. She also lost a lot of skin, and had skin grafts in her abdomen and left leg. She had a lot of other testing and imaging done at the hospital. We returned to Gaza on 5 September 2021, after three months in Jordan, and continued Farah’s rehabilitation at the Jordanian Hospital in Gaza. When her condition improved, she started walking. Now, a physiotherapist from the National Rehabilitation Association comes to our house. She can hold light objects in her right hand, but she still can’t control the left one. Farah is supposed to wear compression bandages that compress the skin to prevent swelling but they’re very tight, so sometimes she takes them off. She needs a skin graft and tendon extension. At the end of the month, we’re going to see a limb specialist. Whenever Farah sees her body in the mirror, she cries and asks why the Israelis did this to her. To this day, whenever she hears airplanes, she’s worried they’re coming to bomb her. I try to reassure her, telling her the war is over and we’re all with her. She has nightmares all the time and is scared of little things, such as water in the shower or doctors and injections. Since the injury she’s had trouble controlling her bladder, so I keep her in a diaper. Until recently, she wasn’t prepared to sleep alone and I slept next to her. Now she sleeps next to her sister, though she’s still scared and can’t relax. When she’s not getting treatments or going for tests, she goes to preschool, but she finds it hard to deal with the kids’ questions about her condition. I keep worrying one of the kids will unintentionally hurt her feelings. We got help from a respectable lady, who took Farah under her wing and covered our trip to Jordan and all our expenses there. But now, our financial situation is very bad. We are crowded into one house with 28 family members. We live only off what my husband makes from his fruit stand, which isn’t enough to provide for our six children: the twins Follah and Fuad (15), Muhammad (13), Ahmad (11), Yusef (8) and Farah (6).

30 August 2022

מאי אבו רווידה בביתה. צילום: אולפת אל-כורד, בצלם, 10.12.19

Open-Fire Policy

Turning a blind eye: at least 21 Gazan protestors lose eye from Israeli forces’ fire, 1 teenager loses both

In the last two years, at least 21* Palestinians lost their vision in one eye while participating in March of Return protests near the Gaza perimeter fence. A 16 year old boy lost vision in both eyes. Each of these personal tragedies adds to the alarming casualty count in the protests: more than 200 people have been killed, some 8,000 wounded by live fire, about 2,400 wounded by rubber-coated metal bullets, and almost 3,000 wounded by tear gas canisters.** Israel’s nearly 13-year blockade of the Gaza Strip has severely impaired local health care. As Gaza’s collapsing health care system is grappling with a shortage of medicine, physicians, equipment and medical training, it is unable to offer many forms of treatment. Israel abuses its control over Gaza’s border crossings and denies residents passage to medical treatment elsewhere, including in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, other than in exceptional cases it deems “life saving”. Wounded persons have to make do with the limited treatment options available within Gaza or try to make to another country – assuming they manage to get a permit to leave via Rafah crossing and shoulder the high costs. Meanwhile, just a several dozen kilometers away, are hospitals that could provide the critical care they need. As B'Tselem has previously reported, the use of crowd control measures as lethal weapons, which may result in death or serious injury, has been a feature of Israel’s open-fire policy regarding the demonstrations along the Gaza perimeter fence for nearly two years. This illegal, immoral policy conveys disregard for the lives and bodily integrity of Palestinians. So long as Israel persists in implementing it despite the horrific outcomes, demonstrators will continue to be killed and seriously injured. The ordeal suffered by the wounded, who have to receive treatment and rehabilitation in the Gaza Strip while better care is available elsewhere, is yet another horrifying facet of Israel’s callous policy towards the residents of Gaza. * According to figures published by the World Health Organization (WHO). The figures above were corrected on 27 Feb. 2020. ** According to the Protection of Civilians Database maintained by the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). B'Tselem field researchers in the Gaza Strip collected testimonies from demonstrators who were injured in their eyes by Israeli security forces’ gunfire. Here are three of their stories. Mai Abu Rawida, 20, 6 December 2019 On Friday, 6 December 2019, at around 2:30 P.M., Mai Abu Rawida, 20, from al-Maghazi R.C., arrived with her two sisters at the Return March protest held near the perimeter fence east of al-Bureij R.C., in the central Gaza Strip. After attending prayer in the protest tents, she went with several friends up to a distance of a few dozen meters from the fence, waving a Palestinian flag. At around 3:30 P.M., Abu Rawida went closer to the fence, and then a member of the Israeli security forces fired a “rubber” bullet that hit her in the eye. In a testimony she gave Olfat al-Kurd on 10 December 2019, Abu Rawida said: I’ve been going to the March of Return protests east of al-Bureij R.C. since they started. On Friday, 6 December 2019, at around 3:30 P.M., after I walked away from my friends and stood several dozen meters away from the fence, one of the soldiers fired a “rubber” bullet that hit me in the left eye. I fell to the ground and put my hand over my eye, which was full of blood. Blood was coming out of my mouth. I was sure I’d lost my eye. I screamed and my friends rushed over with some guy. They lifted me up and carried me to the paramedics. The paramedics took me to an ambulance that drove me to the field infirmary and there, the doctors cleaned the wound and sent me to Shuhada al-Aqsa hospital right away. Mai’s friend, Shaimaa Abu Yusef, 26, from a-Nuseirat R.C. said in a testimony she gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 15 December 2019: I walked towards the fence with Mai and a few other girls. We waved the Palestinian flag, and then the army fired tear gas canisters at us and we ran back. After that, we withdrew to about 100 meters from the fence. A few minutes later, Mai walked a few dozen meters towards the fence. I was just turning to head another way when one of the soldiers shot a “rubber” bullet at Mai and she fell down. I ran over to her with some other friends. Her face was covered in blood. I said: “They killed Mai!” Our friends started yelling at the top of their lungs. One of the guys came over, picked Mai up and said she wasn’t dead. I looked at her and saw she was hurt in the right eye. We took her to the paramedics, who were about twenty meters away. They gave Mai first aid and transferred her to an ambulance that took her to the field infirmary. From there, Mai was taken to Shuhada al-Aqsa Hospital. What did Mai do? She waved the Palestinian flag and didn’t endanger the soldiers in any way. Why does the Israeli army hurt us, when all we do is protest quietly? Abu Rawida was transferred from one hospital to another and finally underwent surgery at a-Nasr Hospital, where her ocular cavity was cleaned. Two days later, she was transferred to a-Shifaa Hospital, where she was treated for a skull fracture. In her testimony, she further recounted: When I came out of surgery, my eye was bandaged. I asked my father: “What happened to my eye”? He told me, “You’re okay”, because he didn’t want to shock me. When the doctor examined me, I asked him and he said I’d lost my eye. I’m very sad. I lost my eye just like that, for no reason. I wasn’t a threat to the Israeli army in any way. Sometimes I feel that my face is disfigured. I look in the mirror and I don’t like it. The army ruined my life and my future. As a woman, my life has been ruined. The most important thing for me right now is to get out of Gaza to access treatment and have a prosthetic eye implanted, so I can go back to being myself, so there isn’t such a hole in my face. Muhammad Abu Raidah, 10, 27 December 2019 On Friday, 27 December 2019, Muhammad Abu Raidah, 10, from the town of Khuza’ah, arrived at a March of Return protest held near the fence north of Khuza’ah. He was there to collect metal items and sell them. Muhammad and his friends collect tear gas cannisters fired by Israeli security forces at protestors and sometimes even cut pieces from the concertina wire the military lays be the main fence, looking to earn a few shekels. At around 4:00 P.M., while he was near the fence, Abu Raidah was hurt in the right eye. The hospital found he had been hit by a tear gas canister. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 6 January 2020, he said: The hospital found he had been hit by a tear gas canister. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 6 January 2020, he said: When I was hit in the eye, I passed out and fell down. When I woke up, I was in the European Hospital. I could see only through my left eye and the right eye was bandaged. My head really hurt. For the first four days at the hospital, I was in shock and couldn’t speak to anyone. A few days later, the swelling around my eye started going down, but I couldn’t see anything with it. My bandages were replaced every day. I was released from hospital after ten days. Now I’m home and all I do is sleep. I get medicines and all kinds of eye drops every hour or every few hours. Muhammad’s mother, Jihan Abu Raidah, 41, a married mother of four, spoke about her son’s life since the injury in a testimony she gave B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 6 January 2020: On Friday, 27 December 2019, my children and I had lunch together. I asked Muhammad not to go to the fence, even though he doesn’t go there to protest but to collect pieces of metal and used tear gas canisters. Our financial situation is tough, and he sells the scraps for three shekels and earns some pocket money that way. He went anyway, and I waited at home for him to come back and eat the dessert I’d made for him. At about 4:00 P.M., my daughter, Hanan, told me Muhammad had been hurt. The doctors at the European Hospital told me Muhammad’s eye was in bad shape and he might lose his eyesight. When I saw him, I fainted. There was blood on his face, and I was afraid he was going to die. Muhammad was bleeding and was in pain, but the doctors couldn’t do anything except give him antibiotics and pain killers. They said Muhammad would have to get treatment outside Gaza to save his eye. When his friends came to visit, all he did was cry. He didn’t talk to them. His cousin, Ibrahim, who’s also ten years old, came to visit him every day. He kept asking me: “Why doesn’t Muhammad want to talk to me? Why does he just keep quiet all the time? I miss his voice”. My heart ached for both of them, and I cried a lot too. At home, after he was released from the hospital, Muhammad grew very quiet. Before the injury, he was very active, he was the driving force in the house. He would go out every day to sell vegetables and pieces of metal and aluminum to bring in some money. After he came out of the hospital, he kept telling me, “I want to go out of the house and play with my friends. I want to play soccer and ride a bike. I feel like I’m suffocating. I’ve had enough. I’m bored”. Muhammad still has strong pain in the spot where he was injured, as well as headaches and dizziness. He can only see through his left eye. He gets eye drops and antibiotics. I really really hope he’ll get a referral for surgery in a hospital in East Jerusalem or the West Bank. Muhammad is my youngest and most pampered son. I’m always near him, looking at him, and my heart aches with pain. He’s only a ten-year-old kid who didn’t threaten the Israeli army. I pray to God to give him health, that I see him playing and running in the neighborhood again, that the smile returns to his face. Muhammad Abu Raidah did not receive a referral for treatment in a West Bank hospital and in mid-January 2020, went with his parents to get treatment in Egypt. Saed Mahani, 28, 27 December 2019 On Friday, 27 December 2019, at around 3:00 P.M., Saed Mahani, 28, an unmarried resident of Gaza City, arrived at the Return March protest held near the perimeter fence east of al-Bureij R.C., in the central Gaza Strip. Mahani approached the fence and threw stones at soldiers standing on the other side. At around 4:30 P.M., a soldier fired a “rubber” bullet, hitting him in the eye. Mahmoud Abu Musalam, a reporter and photojournalist who attended the demonstration as part of his work, described the incident in a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 8 January 2020: There were only a few dozen demonstrators that day because the March of Return protests had been cancelled. The guys who came must not have known about it. They stood a few dozen meters from the fence. At around 4:00-4:30 P.M., a soldier, who got out of a jeep, started swearing at them and then fired “rubber” bullets at them. I dropped to the ground and lay flat. I heard about three shots and when I got up, I heard the guys saying one hadn’t gotten up and had been killed. They lifted him up and carried him to an ambulance that was parked on Jakar Road. When they passed by me, I saw he was bleeding profusely from the left eye. He wasn’t talking, and we all kept quiet because we were shocked by the sight of the blood gushing down his entire face. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 2 January 2020, Saed Mahani spoke about what happened: At around 4:30 P.M., I was close to the fence. One of the soldiers fired a “rubber” bullet at me and I was hit in the eye. I fell to the ground. A few protestors came to help me and took me to an ambulance that took me to Shuhada al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir al-Balah. From there, I was immediately transferred to Nasr Eye Hospital in Gaza City. The doctors told me my eye was in really bad shape and there was no choice but to remove it, even though my family and I objected. I was released from hospital after the surgery. Since then, I haven’t wanted to go outside or see anyone. I’ve been injured in the protests before, but losing my eye has really affected me. I’d rather have a hand amputated than lose my eye. I feel frustrated, hopeless and sorry for myself. I never thought I’d lose my eye. I feel like I have no future. I’m going to Egypt with my brother. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get treatment there and have a prosthetic eye fitted. As of 2 February 2020, Egyptian border guards have not allowed Mahani to travel for treatment in Egypt via Rafah Crossing.

24 February 2020

Muhammad Abu Ma'awad, 15, who is paralyzed since he was shot by soldiers on 3 May 2019. Photo by Olafat al-Kurd, B'Tselem, 26 Dec. 2019

Open-Fire Policy

Shoot and abandon: 155 amputees and 27 paralyzed in two years: How Israel punishes those who dare protest the siege of the Gaza Strip

In March 2018, the Great March of Return demonstrations began along the Gaza Strip perimeter fence, protesting against Israel’s siege and calling for the realization of the right of return. As documented by B’Tselem previously, the unlawful open-fire policy Israel is using against these demonstrations, allowing soldiers to shoot live fire at unarmed protesters who endanger no one, has led to horrific results: in addition to more than 200 Palestinians who were killed, by the end of January 2020, some 8,000 demonstrators were wounded by live ammunition, including 1,500 minors and 150 women. According to World Health Organization (WHO) figures, by the end of 2019, physicians had to perform limb amputations on 155 protesters, including 30 minors. Twenty-seven demonstrators are paralyzed as a result of spinal injuries. The severe injuries are only the beginning of a torturous journey which includes treatments, tests, surgeries, and adjusting to a new reality. In the Gaza Strip the situation is even more complicated: any health system would be hard-pressed to cope with such a scope of injuries, but Gaza’s was already crippled by a shortage of medications, physicians, equipment, and professional training, because of the Israeli siege policy. As a result, many of the injured do not manage to receive the medical treatment they need, which in some cases exacerbates their condition, especially considering the shortage of rehabilitation centers in the Gaza Strip. A small number of those injured manage to receive the medical care they need outside the Gaza Strip – in hospitals in the West Bank (including East Jerusalem), but only in the rare cases that they manage to receive Israeli entry permits, which Israel declared, at the outset of the demonstrations, would be given sparingly. According to WHO figures, from the start of the demonstrations through January 2019, 604 applications to exit Gaza via Erez Crossing for medical treatment in the West Bank (including East Jerusalem) or Israel had been submitted. Only 17% of the requests were approved, while 83% were rejected – directly or by delaying the issuance of a response. In other cases, the wounded are forced to travel to other countries, such as Egypt or Turkey, sometimes at their own expense. Fathi Abu M’awad, from Jabalya Refugee Camp told B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd about the day his 15-year-old grandson Muhammad was wounded: When the doctor told me Muhammad was going to be paralyzed from the waist down, I was in shock. I went out to the hospital courtyard and burst out crying, especially because Muhammad is my first grandchild and very close to me. When they took him into surgery I cried and could barely say goodbye to him. I stood outside the door and waited for Muhammad to come out of surgery, with his father, my son Ramzi, who stood next to me and was deeply distressed about his son. It was one of the hardest days of my life. Some of the wounded described how they were hurt, and the unbearable difficulties they have had to cope with since in testimonies they gave B’Tselem’s field researchers in Gaza: Muhammad a-Za’im, 26, from Gaza City, wounded on 6 April 2018: On 6 April 2018, the second Friday of demonstrations, Muhammad a-Za’im, owner of a stationery store, came to the demonstration that was held next to the perimeter fence east of Gaza City. At around 5 P.M., soldiers shot live ammunition and hit him in both legs. He was evacuated to the first aid tents and from there to a-Shifaa Hospital in Gaza City. After being treated for 10 days, a-Za’im was transferred to Istishari Arab Hospital in Ramallah, to which he was accompanied by his grandfather, and where physicians had to amputate his left leg. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 17 December 2019, he spoke about his life since his injury: When I found out my leg had been amputated, I was in shock. I am young, at the beginning of my life. How could my leg be amputated? After I got home, I also had to have a nerve implant in my right leg, nerve and bone implants in my left leg, and other treatments. I asked to exit for treatment at the hospital in Ramallah again, but I kept getting told that my request was under consideration. I was desperate and frustrated and refused to receive treatment in the Gaza Strip because I was afraid they would harm my leg. In October, I traveled to Egypt with my father for surgery and to receive a prosthetic for my left leg, and I stayed there for nine months. I had to pay by myself both for the trip and for the prosthesis. Now I need another surgery on my left leg. Now I am in a bad mental state. I spend the day sleeping or in front of the computer. I don’t want to see people and don’t get together with my friends very much. I feel I’m a big burden on my family, and especially on my mother, who takes care of me and doesn’t leave the house very much to stay with me. Sometimes I have fits of rage, break things in the house, and feel like I’m suffocating. I can’t ride my motorcycle or play soccer anymore, like I used to. I was offered to participate in swimming competitions and soccer games run by an association for the rehabilitation of people with disabilities, but I refused. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. That’s why I also don’t leave the house too much with my crutches during the day, only at night, in the dark. Since my father has a heart condition and can’t work alone in the store, we had to close it. Maybe one day I will go to school, and I’m also thinking about marriage and starting a family. At night I have a hard time sleeping because of the pain, and all I think about is my injury and treatments. I can only fall asleep after taking painkillers. The pain gets worse in the winter because of the cold. Sometimes I can hardly stand to look at my artificial leg and it depresses me. Israel destroyed my life physically and mentally. Jalal Abu Hayah, 39, father of five, from ‘Abasan al-Kabirah, wounded on 14 May 2018: Jalal Abu Hayah, a civil defense employee who used to provide first aid in the demonstrations, arrived on Monday, 14 May 2018, at around 8 A.M., to a demonstration next to the perimeter fence east of the town of ‘Abasan al-Jadidah. At around 11 A.M., a soldier shot him in the back with live ammunition. He was evacuated to Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, where it was determined that the bullet had hit him in the spine. He was then transferred to the European Hospital south of Khan Yunis to have the bullet extracted. After the surgery he stayed in the hospital for eight days and then was transferred to the Red Crescent rehabilitation hospital in Khan Yunis, from which he was discharged four weeks later, paralyzed from the waist down. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-’Azayzeh on 22 December 2019 he said: After I got out of the hospital I was in very bad shape. The doctors said I had to be turned over in the bed every two hours to avoid bedsores, and my wife had to get up all the time to turn me over. It was very painful. I was paralyzed and I became a burden on my wife, and my mental state was very bad. All I could think about was how to make it easier for her, and I decided to build a bed where I could turn myself over with levers. I built it with my son Muhammad, 17. It took us seven months and I bought all the parts and tools at my expense. When I started using the bed I calmed down. I didn’t need my wife’s help anymore, just an alarm clock. I have very strong pain in the paralyzed part of my body, and I take painkillers that I have to buy myself because they are not available at the public clinics. After a month in bed, I started to get around in a wheelchair. My hobby is to make knives and swords, and after my injury I decided to make swords at home and sell them to make a living. Since I can’t use a circular saw for metal, I designed a metalworking tool. It gives me a lot of satisfaction at work and really helps me make good products. Since I’m in a wheelchair I have a lot of mobility difficulties. We have steps at the entrance to the house, so I built a special passage to get in and out, but I still depend on somebody pushing me up the ramp to the door. Because it is hard to get around, I do not get out of the house much. Every time I want to visit somebody at home, I ask first if there are stairs in the building. I don’t go to a lot of social encounters so as not to be a burden on people, and also because moving from place to place causes me pain. I still receive part of my salary from the civil defense and also get help from a Qatari NGO. Before I was wounded, I sometimes worked as a plasterer, but now I can’t anymore. My condition obviously harms my income and my family’s livelihood. Ahmad al-Khudari 21, from Gaza City, wounded on 1 March 2019: Ahmad al-Khudari, who was a construction worker, arrived on Friday, 1 March 2019, at around 3:30 P.M., at a demonstration near the fence east of Gaza City. About an hour later, a soldier shot him in the right leg with live ammunition. He was evacuated to the first aid tent and from there to a-Shifaa Hospital in Gaza City. Two days later, the doctors amputated his leg below the knee, and he was discharged a week later. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 16 December 2019, he spoke about his life since his injury: After the amputation I went through a difficult period mentally. I felt deep sadness and helplessness. People looked at me with pity because of my condition and I would look at people walking normally and cry. I felt like my spirit was shattered. Before the amputation I worked as a construction worker and helped my father support the family. I played soccer and swam in the sea. Now I use crutches and can’t work in construction anymore. About eight months ago I joined a mental rehabilitation group and we go on excursions and play sports together. I go there almost every day of the week. I’m trying to get back to myself by going back to my hobbies but it’s difficult: I’m an amputee playing soccer, and it can’t be at the level of somebody who has two legs. I also tried to swim in the sea, and I succeeded. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me and I challenge my disability. I try to manage without help in the shower and to make my own food. It’s hard, but I don’t give up. I feel like the children in the street and the neighborhood are afraid of me because of my amputated leg and it bothers me. When my two sisters, Layan, 7, and Lama, 6, saw my stump for the first time, they got scared and ran away. That hurt me deeply. Little by little I got close to them again and helped them not be afraid of me. I’m a young man at the beginning of my life, and I’m afraid I won’t find anyone who will marry me. I think about that all the time. I loved to work and now I can’t. Lately, I’ve been going to the hospital to get used to the prosthetic limb I’m supposed to get next week. I hope it fits and isn’t a problem. Even though the idea of getting a prosthesis is very hard for me, I hope I will get it and people will stop feeling sorry for me. Muhammad Abu M’awad, 15, from Jabalya refugee camp, wounded on 3 May 2019: Muhammad Abu M’awad, a student at a vocational tailoring school, arrived on Friday, 3 May 2019, at around 2:30 P.M., at a demonstration near the fence east of the refugee camp, and at around 7 P.M. was shot in the chest by a soldier. He was evacuated to the Indonesian Hospital next to the refugee camp, and from there, because of the severity of his injury, to a-Shifaa Hospital in Gaza City, where he underwent surgery to remove the bullet and was diagnosed as a paraplegic. Ten days later, Abu M’awad was moved to the Hamad rehabilitation hospital in Gaza City, from which he was discharged a month later. In a testimony he gave on 12 December 2019 to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd, he described what he went through: Before my injury, I was studying tailoring at a vocational school and I was barely at home: I rode my bike, played soccer with my friends, went to play computer games, and shopped in the market for my family. My life was full, and I was happy. Now I’m confined to the house and to a special nursing bed, and all I do is play on my phone or watch videos. I don’t go to school anymore, don’t ride my bike, and don’t play with my friends. All that was taken away from me. When I see the children of the camp playing, and hear them happy and screaming at each other, I miss being with them. I feel sorry for myself, have fits, break things, and cry. We are a poor family: my father doesn’t work and there are eight of us. We rent an apartment in public housing in Jabalya Refugee Camp. I had hopes of working as a tailor and helping my father raise my siblings, but now I’m paralyzed and can’t do anything. I have bedsores that are very painful, and twice a week somebody comes over from an organization to change my dressings. I also have anemia, so I go to the Indonesian Hospital to receive blood units. I really want to have surgery outside the Gaza Strip so I can go back to walking on my feet, to the normal life I used to have, and to the games I used to play. Muhammad’s grandfather, Fathi Abu M’awad, 62, married and father of nine, described his grandson’s condition in a testimony he gave on 15 January 2020 to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd: When the doctor told me Muhammad was going to be paralyzed from the waist down I was in shock. I went out to the hospital courtyard and burst out crying, especially because Muhammad is my first grandchild and very close to me. When they took him into surgery I cried and could barely say goodbye to him. I stood outside the door and waited for Muhammad to come out of surgery, with his father, my son Ramzi, who stood next to me and was deeply distressed about his son. It was one of the hardest days of my life. During his hospitalization, Muhammad kept asking me: “Will I be able to walk?” And I kept saying: “Yes, but you’re going to have to take medicine.” I couldn't tell him the truth about his condition. I kept telling him he would be fine. But when I helped him move his body right and left, or diapered him because he was incontinent, Muhammad would tell me: “I can’t feel the bottom half of my body.” Sometimes Muhammad would try to get out of bed and suddenly realize he couldn’t. It would make him very sad and depressed. At those moments I would go out of his room and burst out crying. After ten days Muhammad was transferred to the Hamad Hospital in Gaza for a month of rehabilitation, alone. We could only come during visiting hours. At night he would call me and say: “I’m scared. Why did they put me in this hospital?” And I would reassure him and say: “You have to get treatment and get better, Muhammad, so you can walk.” But he would say: “You’re lying, Grandpa. Nobody wants me, nobody loves me. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left me alone at the hospital. I’ve had it, I hate the hospital." Since Muhammad was injured, he has been suffering from fits of rage, throwing and breaking objects when he is in severe pain. He stays in bed, and only occasionally goes out in his wheelchair to the camp to meet friends. I see the sadness in his eyes when his friends are playing while he is sitting in his wheelchair. His parents and I are at his side all the time. Muhammad’s mother is mentally ill, suffering from PTSD since the war in 2014. In order to function and take care of her family, she takes pills. My son, Ramzi, doesn’t work and receives a 1,800-shekel allowance from the Ministry of Welfare every five or six months. They are a family of eight and the situation is very difficult. Especially since Muhammad’s injury, because he needs medications, diapers, and food. In the winter they suffer a lot because the rain goes into their house through the roof. I pray to God for Muhammad to get better. He needs a lot of treatment and care. The health ministry refused to let him go abroad for an operation as he wanted to, because they think there’s no point. I do what I can, and I will stay at his side, give him whatever I can, and try to make him happy. Nazih Qdeih, 39, from ‘Abasan al-Kabirah, wounded on 14 May 2018: Nazih Qdeih, a farmer, arrived on Monday, 14 May 2018, at around 10 A.M., to a demonstration near the fence east of the town of Khuza’ah. Six hours later, at around 4 P.M., Qdeih was shot with a live bullet in her right leg and evacuated to the first aid tents, and from there to the European Hospital south of Khan Yunis, where physicians amputated her leg. In a testimony she gave B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 12 January 2020 she said: After I graduated from high school I went to work on my family and our neighbors’ land. I grew some vegetables, plowed the land, and harvested the wheat. I also help my family with the olive harvest every year. I liked farming. I would go out of my house in the morning and come back in the evening. I was happy to support myself and my family. My parents are elderly, and my brother, Suhayb, 34, was also injured in the March of Return and had his leg amputated. He is married and has four boys and two girls. Since I was injured my life has been ruined. I’m unemployed, and I’m home all day and can hardly do anything. I spend most of the time sleeping. My spirit is tired. I cry all the time, my head and my leg hurt. I got a prosthetic leg, but it irritates me, and I don’t use it. Since I live alone with my elderly parents, when I want to do something, like clean the house, I have to crawl on the floor, but it’s very tiring. Sometimes, for instance when I wash the dishes, I stand on my left foot, but that is also very tiring. When I see my friends and neighbors go to their fields, or my family going to harvest olives, I wish I could be with them, plow the land and grow crops. I cry and feel overcome with sorrow. I miss the get-togethers and the joy and the good atmosphere of the wheat and barley harvest in our fields. When I see the girls walking in the street in high heels, wearing nice clothes, it breaks my heart. I cut off my social ties with family and neighbors, and I don’t attend a lot of family events. When I go out of the house it tires me and I don’t like people to see me this way. My life turned dark. Every day it gets harder. I have no future. I think I’m the only woman who had her leg amputated in the March of Return. I really hope I get a wheelchair, because now I can’t go out of the house and support myself.

30 January 2020