Dunia 'Asaliyah (45), from Jabalya Refugee Camp, talks about her 10-year-old daughter Dima, who was killed by an Israeli missile in the last round of fighting in Gaza on 19 May 2021

I lost my daughter Dima while she was helping me prepare dinner. I asked her to go get an electric baking pot from her sister Dyana, who lives nearby. When she was on her way home, Dima was killed by an Israeli missile that tore her to bits near our home. When I heard the loud explosion of the missile that probably hit Dima, I screamed. I choked up and was terrified. The windows shattered and the glass fell on the dough and pita bread I was making. We were told it was a warning missile and that we had to leave the house. I ran outside quickly, and then someone told me that Dima was suffocating. Outside, I saw a car rushing Dima to hospital. My husband and his brother got to Dima first and took care of getting her to hospital. Then my husband came and told me she was dead. My heart hurt and I felt that I was suffocating. I was in shock.

Dima was very scared of the war. Four days before she was killed, she asked for us to go shelter in an UNWRA school. She said she wouldn't forgive me if anything happened to her. When she heard that we might leave the house, she managed to pack a bag with her toys, just in case.

When they brought me to say goodbye to Dima, I didn't recognize her. She had shards from the baking pot and the missile lodged in her face. Dima was just an innocent girl. What did she do to deserve such a cruel death? She won't be able to wear the holiday clothes I bought her.

It’s been a year since Dima was killed, and all we have is the memories still alive within us. I miss her all the time. The neighborhood kids and her friends miss her, too. My husband thinks of Dima every day, especially on Fridays, when the whole family's present except for her.

When we sit around the dining table, her seat stays empty. The kids mention her and talk about her all the time. I go every day to the place where she was killed by the house and clean it. Every day, I lie down on her grave and cry with such deep sorrow that I can’t even describe it. Dima's friends come to our house every day to visit us, lay flowers on the spot where she was killed and hand out candy to help her soul ascend. When they play outside our house, they recite Dima's name and write it in their notebooks. When I see that, it pains me. They tell me that Dima’s in heaven.

When I pass by Dima's school, my heart aches when I see the children and her friends. I'm very afraid of visiting and meeting her teachers and friends, and I try not to break down and cry.

I’ve kept Dima's schoolbag and clothes. I kiss them and hug them and smell them every day. I miss Dima, my baby. I miss touching her hair and stroking her face.

Since Dima was killed, I haven't gone to any celebrations. Before I leave the house, I always kiss her picture and tell her, "Today, you're not going out with me. I'm going out without you." When I get home, as soon I set foot on the path leading to the house I remember how Dima would run to greet me, and feel deep sorrow. I remember how she used to open the door to welcome me with a hug.

We named my son's daughter after Dima, so her memory will live on in the family. Sometimes it's hard for me to call my granddaughter by her name, Dima. I also find it hard to hear the kids wondering when she'll grow up and be like Dima so they can play with her.

My daughter was a little angel. When I said goodbye to her, I couldn’t recognize her mangled body. Was Dima endangering the Israeli military by holding a pot in one hand and candy in the other? We're simply civilians living in our homes. We're not endangering Israel in any way. The world must feel our pain and remember our little children being killed before our very eyes, without us being able to do anything but cry and ache.

During the 2008 war, I was pregnant and lost the baby. I inhaled phosphorous that the Israeli military fired and miscarried. Then, too, the Israeli military's weapons didn't spare us and the missiles hit our homes. Where are the world leaders while all this is happening in Gaza? We're slowly dying. Where are the human rights conventions that forbid harming children? We asked for those responsible to be prosecuted, but didn't receive any response. I say to the world: Do you want your children to be killed like Dima? To be unable to identify their bodies, like what happened to me?

The war never ends. We're surrounded on all sides. I feel that in the next war, too, someone in our family will pay with their life, maybe me. Our shelters aren’t safe, either, and were targeted and hit in previous wars. Are the children of Gaza in the Israeli military's target bank? Was my child wanted by the Israeli military?

The testimony was given to B'Tselem field researcher Olfat al-Kurd on 15 March 2022.