Aid pallets parachute down from the sky, a lifeline descending upon Gaza’s weary and hungry populace below.
On the ground, the vast majority of Gaza’s residents are displaced, crammed into makeshift tent camps across a fraction of the territory. They face a daily struggle for basic necessities like food, water, and medicine. Their homes, businesses, and entire neighborhoods—once the fabric of their lives—have been obliterated, leaving behind little but rubble and a haunting question of what future awaits them.
Two years have passed since Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, ushering in a period of immense military action by Israel in Gaza. This relentless campaign has wrought destruction almost unparalleled in contemporary warfare, fracturing and dismembering society. Family lineages have been brutally cut short, with local health officials reporting over 67,000 deaths—a devastating toll representing one in every 34 Gazans.
An image shows a group of people standing amidst tents near extensively damaged buildings, with a large fireball visible behind a tower. This captures the aftermath of the Israeli military bringing down a high-rise building in Gaza City.
Another photograph depicts individuals grieving and embracing amidst a scene of sorrow, mourning those lost in an attack on a cafe near Gaza City. Official figures indicate that over 67,000 Gazans have been killed, a tragic loss of life for a significant portion of the population.
Just last month, a United Nations commission issued a harrowing conclusion: Israel had committed genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. Israel vehemently refutes this claim, asserting its military actions are solely aimed at dismantling Hamas and securing the release of hostages captured during the group’s October 7th attack, which tragically claimed 1,200 lives.
In a glimmer of potential progress, Israeli and Hamas negotiators were scheduled for discussions in Cairo, focusing on a possible exchange of Israeli hostages for Palestinian prisoners. This agreement could pave the way for a newly proposed plan by President Trump to halt the conflict, following numerous unsuccessful diplomatic efforts.
Yet, amidst these complex negotiations, fundamental questions persist: Who will assume governance of the territory, and who will bear the immense cost of reconstruction to rebuild the lives of Gaza’s inhabitants?
For now, however, most Gazans are consumed by the immediate necessity of survival, leaving little room to contemplate a distant future.
“Thoughts of life after the war only emerge once the fighting ceases,” shared Hamza Salem, a former gas station attendant who tragically lost both his legs during the early, intense phases of Israeli bombardment.
Lives Shattered, Bodies Scarred
Before the war, Mr. Salem’s life in northern Gaza revolved around his wife, three sons, and five-year-old daughter, Rital, who loved making beaded bracelets and had just started kindergarten.
“Life was good, thank God,” Mr. Salem recalled.
Then, the war began, altering everything irrevocably.
In the initial weeks of the conflict, an Israeli strike near Rital tragically severed her right arm above the wrist. Her father, Abdel-Nasr Salem, was also injured in the attack. The Israeli military stated it targeted Hamas military infrastructure.
Just three months later, after the family had sought refuge in southern Gaza, Mr. Salem himself was struck, resulting in the amputation of both his legs above the knee.
Both father and daughter have since faced immense challenges accessing medical care amidst Gaza’s collapsed healthcare system.
An image portrays Hamza Salem carefully navigating the damaged steps of his ruined home in Gaza City, observed by onlookers, with clothes and rugs hanging nearby—a stark depiction of life amidst widespread destruction.
Another photo shows Mr. Salem in his wheelchair, alongside his daughter Rital, at a clinic where she was fitted for a prosthetic arm in May. This highlights the difficult journey of recovery for those severely wounded.
Hospitals in Gaza have been repeatedly evacuated, raided, and attacked by Israeli forces, who accuse Hamas of using them for cover. According to the World Health Organization, less than half of Gaza’s 36 hospitals are even partially operational.
As the conflict intensified, essential medical supplies dwindled, making cancer treatments and dialysis nearly impossible to access. When Israel imposed a complete blockade on aid entering Gaza this spring, widespread hunger quickly followed. By August, a consensus of global experts tragically declared a “man-made” famine, impacting over half a million Gazans with severe starvation, acute malnutrition, and death.
Experts warn that the combined effects of malnutrition and profound trauma could severely impede mental and physical development, casting a long shadow over the health of an entire generation.
Tess Ingram, UNICEF’s spokeswoman in Gaza, highlighted the daily struggle children face against illness and death. “This creates a level of toxic stress that is not just harmful, but potentially life-threatening long term,” she stated.
Israeli officials have downplayed the severity of hunger, asserting their efforts to facilitate aid entry, and have dismissed the famine report as “an outright lie.”
The Israeli military maintains it targets only military objectives and adheres to international law, accusing Hamas of constructing infrastructure like command centers, weapons depots, and tunnels within densely populated civilian areas, and booby-trapping civilian roads and homes.
The World Health Organization reports that over 167,000 Gazans have been wounded, with more than a quarter suffering “life-changing injuries,” including over 5,000 who have lost limbs.
With Gaza’s borders sealed by Israel, its residents are trapped, unable to seek refuge from the relentless bombardment as refugees in other conflicts might. The critically wounded face immense difficulty obtaining permission for medical evacuations abroad, exacerbating their suffering.
Mr. Salem recounted that Rital’s severed arm was lost in the aftermath of the attack, making reattachment impossible. Due to critical hospital shortages, he was forced to purchase necessary anesthesia and medications from local pharmacies.
He also shared that the blast that injured him rendered him unconscious. When he awoke ten days later, he discovered both his legs had been amputated.
Compounding his ordeal, inadequate sanitation at the hospital resulted in an infection. He was discharged without medication, left to manage agonizing pain on his own.
A poignant image shows Mr. Salem in his wheelchair, accompanied by his daughter Rital and their family, traversing a dusty road. Beside them, a vehicle overloaded with personal belongings highlights the mass displacement. This scene captures their flight to southern Gaza following a new Israeli assault on Gaza City.
In September, the family was forced to flee once more after Israel initiated another assault on Gaza City. They made their arduous journey to central Gaza on foot, with his father and sons painstakingly pushing his wheelchair across damaged, sandy streets.
Currently, the Salem family is sheltering in his sister’s house, but they possess scant clothing, limited funds, and no tent, leaving them vulnerable should another displacement become necessary.
“We have no other place to go,” he expressed.
Communities in Ruins
The United Nations estimates that a staggering four out of five buildings in Gaza have been either damaged or completely destroyed. By last December, over 50 million tons of rubble choked the territory—an amount so vast it would require 105 trucks working for 21 years to clear. The World Bank, in February, assessed the physical damage at an astonishing $29.9 billion, a sum nearly double the annual economic output of both Gaza and the West Bank combined.
Beyond the statistics, the true cost lies in the intangible. When familiar landmarks—the local shop for groceries, the cafe for friendly gatherings—are wiped away, the very essence of daily life, and the memories tied to it, begins to erode.
For Nidal Eissa, a father of three and owner of a bridal shop in Gaza City, his world revolved around the apartment building he shared with approximately 30 family members. Now, satellite imagery confirms it lies in ruins, along with the nearby orange grove, his trusted butcher shop, and the barbershop where he once brought his son.
Nidal Eissa’s Neighborhood: Before and After
An interactive graphic, based on satellite images from Planet Labs (June 2023 vs. September 2025), vividly illustrates the dramatic transformation of Nidal Eissa’s neighborhood in Gaza City. It highlights the destruction of key landmarks including his home, nearby schools, medical clinics, pharmacies, butcher shops, barbershops, supermarkets, and the bulldozing of an orchard, showing the profound impact of the conflict on the community’s physical landscape.
His family’s home, now destroyed, was a repository of countless cherished memories.
“I spent my happiest days and years in this home,” shared Mr. Eissa, 32.
It was a central gathering place for family milestones: new babies celebrated with sweets, weddings honored with feasts, and lost loved ones mourned with traditional bitter coffee and dates.
His children attended local schools, and the family relied on a nearby United Nations-run clinic for medical care.
His bridal shop, “White Angel,” was conveniently located a short drive from his home.
Early in the conflict, a strike on a nearby truck during heavy Israeli bombardment damaged his shop. He managed to salvage what he could—dresses and accessories—and relocated them to his apartment.
However, these salvaged items were also lost in August when the apartment building itself was bombed. Both Mr. Eissa and his cousin Walid Eissa confirmed that the Israeli military had issued a warning to a neighbor, allowing the family to escape before the building’s destruction. The Israeli military later stated it had targeted a “military objective.”
Now homeless, his extended family has dispersed in search of shelter. Mr. Eissa, his wife, and children currently live in a tent in southern Gaza.
An image shows Nidal Eissa, a former bridal shop owner, sitting with four young children on a mattress outside a tent in southern Gaza. He holds a toddler aloft, symbolizing his family’s displacement after their Gaza City neighborhood was largely destroyed.
An aerial view, captured from a French aid plane in August, reveals the staggering scale of destruction across a smaller city in Gaza. Most buildings are reduced to rubble, with only a few structures partially standing, underscoring the unprecedented devastation of modern warfare.
He harbors a profound hope: to rebuild his life in a Gaza freed from Hamas’s rule.
“If the war concludes with meaningful solutions and a change in the governing system, I will open a business and remain in my homeland,” he asserted. “The most crucial aspect is a change in the regime that has led us to this ruin and destruction.”
Childhoods Erased
Mahmoud Abu Shahma, 14, is another young life shaped by the conflict, living in a crowded tent near the beach.
His mornings are spent queuing for water, a precious commodity for drinking and bathing. He prepares tea over a wood fire and subsists on spiced bread or whatever meager provisions he can find. The remainder of his days are spent wandering the camp; he has been out of school for over two years.
“No one has asked me to study,” he remarked. “If a school were available, I would go.”
Tragically, Mahmoud’s parents were both killed, making him one of thousands orphaned by the devastating war.
The conflict has virtually eradicated any semblance of a normal childhood. Children have been wounded, killed, lost family members, and endured relentless deprivation.
An aerial view showcases a school building repurposed as a shelter, surrounded by a tent camp housing displaced individuals in central Gaza. Aid workers warn that the combined effects of trauma and disrupted education could severely hinder the development of an entire generation of children.
A composite image features Mahmoud Abu Shahma, 14, standing outside a tent in a southern Gaza camp, highlighting his two-year absence from formal schooling. Accompanying video depicts daily life within the camp, where ad hoc educational initiatives attempt to fill the void.
Tareq Emtairah, director general of Taawon, a Palestinian charity aiding orphans, stressed, “You are creating extremely difficult conditions for mental, human and physical recovery.”
In April, the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics reported that over 39,000 children had lost at least one parent in the war, with approximately 17,000 losing both.
Mahmoud Abu Shahma resides in one of seven tent camps in southern Gaza, which collectively shelter over 4,000 children who have lost at least one parent. An additional 15,000 children depend on these camps for essential services like food and medical care, according to camp manager Mahmoud Kallakh.
Aid workers observe that many children suffer from frequent nightmares and severe anxiety. Some have experienced such profound mental and physical trauma that they have ceased to speak.
A series of images portrays the stark reality of childhood in Gaza’s tent camps. One photo shows Mohammed Shafqa, an 8-year-old orphan, and his brother Ahmed, 4, in their makeshift classroom. Mohammed, who struggles with literacy, remarks, “I cannot remember my school clearly.” Another image depicts children playing soccer in a tent, and a solitary toddler stands bathed in sunlight, underscoring the innocence lost amid displacement.
An image captures Rateel al-Najjar, 8, kneeling in an ad hoc school within her camp, diligently taking notes on a purple backpack. She expressed joy in learning but also highlighted the school’s urgent need for basic supplies like chairs, crayons, notebooks, and pencils.
The education system has crumbled entirely, even for children whose families remain intact.
UNICEF reports that over 700,000 children are without formal schooling, and almost every school requires rehabilitation or complete reconstruction.
All universities have closed, many destroyed by Israeli forces who alleged Hamas operations within their premises.
In a desperate attempt to continue learning, makeshift schools have emerged in displacement camps, where children sit on the ground under tarps.
Mayasem, an arts and culture organization, operates one such school in southern Gaza, offering classes in Arabic, English, math, and science.
Eight-year-old student Rateel al-Najjar shared her happiness about returning to studies but noted the school’s critical lack of basic resources: chairs, crayons, notebooks, and pencils.
Rateel, who loves math, dreams of becoming an architect, inspired by an uncle who perished in the war.
Najla Abu Nahla, Mayasem’s executive manager, explained that the school prioritizes mental well-being, focusing on fun, sports, and music over strict academic achievement.
When classes conclude, she observes, the children are reluctant to return to the grim reality of queuing for food or fetching water.
“Here,” she concluded, “they can simply feel like children.”
Economy in Ruins
Before the war, Mona al-Ghalayini stood out as a woman who had successfully ascended into Gaza’s business elite.
Her ventures included co-owning a supermarket and independently owning and managing “Big Bite” eatery, alongside the prestigious “Roots Hotel,” a prominent establishment by Gaza City’s Mediterranean marina.
Today, very little remains of her extensive business holdings.
The supermarket?
“Burned and looted,” she reported from Egypt, where she sought refuge early in the conflict.
Big Bite?
“Also gone.”
The hotel?
“It requires complete restructuring,” she stated.
Last year, she opened Jouzoor, a Palestinian restaurant in Cairo. She contemplates a future return to Gaza, but only if it can offer stability, running water, and electricity—what she terms “the essential components of life.”
The timing of such a return, however, remains entirely uncertain.
“There is no clear vision for anything on which one can build,” Ms. al-Ghalayini, 55, lamented. “The future is uncertain for everyone.”
Even before the war, Gaza was impoverished, a situation worsened by a partial Israeli-Egyptian blockade intended to weaken Hamas. Despite this, resourceful Gazans invested in shopping malls, restaurants, factories, and farms, which provided sustenance and employment for the population.
The war has brought almost all formal economic activity to a standstill, with unemployment rates soaring to at least 80 percent, according to the World Bank.
An image shows Mona al-Ghalayini at her Palestinian restaurant, Jouzoor, in Cairo. She stands on a terrace, dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khaki pants, reflecting her new life outside Gaza.
Another image features Hassan Shehada, 61, standing within a tent used to store his textile equipment and cloth. He once oversaw a thriving business employing over 200 workers who produced jeans, jackets, and other apparel.
The conflict has severely crippled Gaza’s capacity for self-sufficiency in food. The United Nations reports that over 70 percent of irrigation wells, greenhouses, and fishing boats have been damaged or destroyed. By July, less than 2 percent of agricultural land remained both intact and accessible for farming.
The World Bank projects a drastic increase in “multidimensional poverty” in Gaza—defined by a lack of income, education, and essential services like electricity and clean water—from 64 percent before the war to an alarming 98 percent.
The war has utterly devastated the financial stability of many entrepreneurial Gazans.
Hassan Shehada, 61, formerly a prominent employer, once managed over 200 workers producing jeans, jackets, and other garments, largely for sale in Israel.
During the conflict, one of his workshops, housing 60 sewing machines, was destroyed. When his family fled Gaza City for central Gaza, they managed to salvage 20 sewing machines and other supplies. However, constant electricity shortages have rendered them unusable, leaving him unable to work or return home. He continually monitors reports of his former employees, many of whom have been killed.
Despite everything, he holds onto hope for peace, believing that both Israelis and Gazans will eventually recognize their interwoven destinies.
“Israel cannot abandon us, and we cannot abandon Israel,” he declared. “Without genuine peace built on solid foundations between us, nothing will succeed.”
The final image shows a child on a swing, looking out over a sprawling displacement camp in the Al-Mawasi area of southern Gaza. This scene encapsulates the daily reality for countless families enduring the ongoing humanitarian crisis.