The Unprotected: Gaza's Lost Generation
The Unbearable Loss
I woke up beneath the rubble, surrounded by darkness, dust, collapsed concrete and the screams of my six-year-old son Nasser crying hysterically above the ruins, trying to reach my buried fingers.
In those moments, I believed I was dying.
What I did not yet know was that a part of me had already died.
The Fate of My Children
When I emerged, I discovered that my 51-day-old baby Ryan had been recovered lifeless after spending more than an hour trapped under the debris.
His body was so small that I wrapped him in part of my own clothing, afraid he would feel cold.
I was told Yaman, my seven-year-old, had suffered only minor injuries and had been taken to the hospital.
The truth, however, was that my little boy had died before reaching it.
A World That Failed
Like countless mothers in Gaza, I had feared hunger for my children.
I had feared displacement, terror and interrupted education.
But despite everything, I never dared to think of death.
Ryan never had the chance to grow up and enjoy his childhood.
The Data of Loss
- 21,000 Palestinian children massacred
- Thousands of other Palestinian mothers have had to bury their children since January 2024
The Impact on Survivors
My surviving son, Nasser, became an only child after losing both his brothers.
He spends long hours staring silently at photographs of Yaman on a mobile phone as though he is trying to understand how a child can disappear so suddenly.
A Call to Action
Why have all of these special days, organisations and laws when they do nothing to stop the massacres of children?
Ryan and Yaman were taken away from me in January 2024.
Thousands of other Palestinian mothers have had to bury their children since then.