A young Palestinian woman in Gaza has told how her family took the unimaginable decision to return to their home in Gaza City despite being warned that the streets are now ‘a battleground’.
Student Ne’ama Ayyoub, 21, gave a compelling account of the nightmare three weeks she and other civilians have endured since the war began on October 7.
She told us in a moving clip on WhatsApp: ‘I’m not sure I’ll be alive by the time you see this video.
‘Rockets and bombing are non-stop all the time. I wish this awful nightmare will end soon.’
She said her life changed forever after the bombing raids began as a reprisal for the murderous attacks by Hamas terrorists on Israelis living near Gaza, which left 1400 people dead and 230 kidnapped as hostages.
She told how on October 6, she ordered a cake for her only sibling and baby sister Farah’s six-month ‘birthday’, adding, ‘We celebrate her birthday every month because we waited to have her for more than 20 years.’
Ne’ama Ayyoub and her family
Destroyed residential buildings after Israeli air strikes on Tel al-Hawa neighborhood, in Gaza City, on October 30, 2023
Destroyed buildings in Gaza City’s western Tal al-Hawa district, as battles between Israel and Hamas continue for the fourth week
But only a few days later, multimedia student Ne’ama, having fled south with her family, awoke to find that her mother Amira, 39, had written her name on her hand, and done the same for Farah – in case they didn’t survive the night’s bombing and could be identified so they could be buried together.
The morning of October 7 she said: ‘I woke up to the terrifying sounds of explosions and rockets being fired from Gaza.’
Like most of the 2 million residents of the tiny enclave she knew only too well the different sounds made by incoming and outgoing weaponry.
‘I rushed to my parents’ bedroom, asking them what was going on.’
Her father Hazem, 48, a metal worker, told her it was something ‘significant’, but they knew no more.
‘Hours later, photos and videos started flooding our phones. Hamas fighters had crossed the border into Israel, capturing and killing numerous Israelis.
‘How did this happen? It felt like a dream. We thought no-one could cross the border without being intercepted. Everything we witnessed that morning was unprecedented.’
Having lived through four wars in her short life, she and the other civilians in Gaza knew only too well what would happen next, she said.
‘However, I didn’t expect it to be this intense. I knew the situation was dire when my aunts sent photos of them preparing “war bags.” These bags are a Gaza tradition, containing essential documents, money, jewellery, and some water and blankets.’
Then the bombs came – in such number that it was impossible to discern their locations.
She added: ‘We glued ourselves to the news, witnessing residential buildings being demolished on live broadcasts without any prior Israeli warnings. Fear pervaded every soul.’
Ne’ama Ayyoub holding baby sister Farah
Then a week into the war, leaflets and text messages were sent by the Israelis urging a million residents in northern Gaza to evacuate to the south.
‘Initially, we decided to stay, refusing to leave our home under any circumstance. I lived with my four uncles, grandparents, and cousins in the same building. This was my birthplace, and we are a close-knit family, spending most of our time at my grandparents’ home on the third floor.
‘My grandfather who is aged 72, resisted leaving the most, fearing we might not be able to return if we left. Even if we decided to leave, we had no idea where to go. Our group numbered over 30 people, including children.’
But as time went on and the bombing continued, the Ayyoubs reluctantly decided the time had come.
‘The Israeli army issued a renewed warning, and we saw many people already evacuating via social media, we feared we’d regret staying behind. My father reached out to a friend in the Al-Nusirat refugee camp in the south, inquiring if we could join his family, and he welcomed us.
‘We hastily packed essential items like clothes, water, and cooking gas. The journey was heart-wrenching, and I couldn’t bear leaving. Seeing thousands of people on the road fleeing death left a lasting impression on me.’
Her short video clip of the flight south brought home the utterly chaotic nature of the evacuation with children piled into vehicles laden high with luggage.
Only emergency vehicles could be seen on the northbound lane of the highway.
Ne’ama Ayyoub and baby sister Farah
Farah. Ne’ama told how on October 6, she ordered a cake for her only sibling and baby sister’s six-month ‘birthday’, adding, ‘We celebrate her birthday every month because we waited to have her for more than 20 years’
The family were shocked to find the house was already over-crowded.
‘Three families were crammed into the four-room house, and we were the fourth to arrive. ‘Soon, around 50 women were sharing the house. The men congregated in the yard, but the nights were bitterly cold. Not everyone had the luxury of a mattress; they were prioritized for the elderly. I had to sleep on a blanket. Fortunately, we had a crib for Farah.’
But even in the south the bombing continued and Ne’ama recalled: ‘One morning, I woke up to find my name written on my hand, and the same had been done for Farah.
‘I was told that as we were staying in someone else’s house, if the house was bombed, no one would be able to identify us.
‘My mother wasn’t the only one who took this precaution; many mothers in Gaza did the same to ensure their children could be identified if they were killed or injured.’
During the fortnight they remained in the south, Ne’ama managed only one shower in freezing cold water.
‘We had one meal a day due to the shortage of bread caused by Israeli airstrikes on many bakeries. We had to endure lines to use the toilet, an unpleasant experience shared by dozens of people.
‘Every day, the smell of bread being baked on an open fire greeted us as we tried to conserve the cooking gas we had. The house had a water well, which became our primary water source during the conflict. We mixed well water with bottled drinking water to make it more palatable and ensure there was enough for everyone.’
Due to frequent internet outages, the refugees were often unaware of where explosions were, though they were often ‘alarmingly close.’
That was when the family took the most momentous decision of all – to ignore the Israeli warnings and return north. ‘We came to realize that no place in Gaza was truly safe. At the very least, we longed for privacy and the comfort of our own beds. The decision to return was difficult, and we chose to make the journey in two vehicles, one driven by my father and the other by my uncle.
‘The first group, including me, were the “sacrificial lambs” – If something unfortunate befell us, the second group wouldn’t follow.’
The return was nothing short of a journey into hell.
Ne’ama recalled: ‘It left me in shock. It was a desolate city, devoid of people. Destroyed houses stood on either side, blood stains were visible on the streets, and wrecked cars were strewn all over.
‘It was as if I was peering through virtual reality goggles, wishing I could remove them to see Gaza as it was. My father’s greatest concern was Farah, and he urged us to wrap her in blankets to protect her in case of a bombing.’
Ne’ama’s father setting out meagre supplies of food to feed the group of 30 people
Ne’ama’s cousins fill a barrel with water for the family after power cuts knocked out electric pumps
When the family reached their home they were greeted by Ne’ama’s aunt who had stayed behind.
‘I embraced her with tears of relief, unable to believe we had made it home unscathed. But our home was lacking in almost everything – electricity, water, food, and other essentials.
‘My father and uncles worked diligently to address these challenges, seeking sources for bread, water, and fuel to power generators. We currently have enough water and bread for the coming days, but uncertainty looms over our future.’
But new warnings began to be dropped in leaflets from the Israelis, telling the residents who had returned – or never left – that their streets were about to become a ‘battle ground’ as the ground invasion began.
Ne’ama recalled: ‘My mother suggested we take refuge in a kitchen cupboard, though we weren’t sure if she was serious. We didn’t.’
On Friday evening as the ground invasion began, all internet and phone signals were lost.
Ne’ama said: ‘Minutes later, we heard intense bombings in various locations around us simultaneously. We were certain that death was drawing nearer.
‘Without electricity or the internet, we had no access to news updates and had to rely on our instincts to gauge the proximity of the bombings. We couldn’t call relatives or friends to see if they were safe or not.’
Power cuts have left the family getting by on battery-powered lighting
When their internet service resumed, they would learn about the fate of friends and their families. ‘There was so much tragic news we wished we never found out,’ she said.
Faced with the imminent possibility of death, Ne’ama seeks comfort in her Muslim faith.
‘In Gaza, we once heard the call to prayer from the mosques five times a day. But now, most of the mosques lie in ruins.
‘We rely on our phones to determine the prayer times. We don’t long for our old life, which we were never truly satisfied with.
‘However, it now seems like a far better existence compared to the life we are currently enduring.
‘All I ask for is to remain in one piece if I’m killed. At just 21 years old, my ultimate wish is not to be dismembered when I die.’
With grim determination, she and her family have decided to face whatever comes next.
‘We’ve resolved to remain in our house, no matter what. We prefer to face our fate in our own beds, hoping for a warm end. This is my ultimate wish now.’