Sabah Abu Ghanem and her family embarked on the arduous journey back to Gaza City after the cease-fire between Israel and Hamas took hold this month. Their goal was simple: to finally return home from a crowded tent encampment in the southern part of the territory.
Upon arrival, they discovered their neighborhood, like much of Gaza City, had been obliterated. Yet, the skeletal remains of their house still stood, a concrete ghost. They decided to settle in one of its damaged rooms.
“At least, this piece of land is ours,” said Ms. Abu Ghanem, 26, clinging to a shred of ownership. “This rubble I can call mine.”
Since the cease-fire, thousands of Palestinians have streamed back to Gaza City and other ravaged areas in the north. They return to places they fled mere weeks prior, only to find their homes and communities utterly erased. The prospect of rebuilding their lives in Gaza City feels, at best, like a distant dream, and at worst, an impossible one.
For some, the sheer scale of destruction proved too overwhelming. Majdi Nassar, 32, searched for his home in Jabaliya, near Gaza City, but retreated to Deir al-Balah in the south within 24 hours. He vowed to stay away until clean drinking water is restored, a goal that seems far off.
“I could not find any trace of the building where I had an apartment, not even the rubble,” he lamented. “Everything is gone.”
Gaza was already densely populated before the two-year conflict sparked by the Hamas-led attack on Israel on October 7, 2023. Gaza City served as the territory’s vibrant political, economic, and cultural heart. Now, vast sections lie in ruins.
The city has been hollowed out by the mass exodus of its residents to southern Gaza after the Israeli military launched its ground offensive last month. Government buildings, universities, and many hospitals have been reduced to rubble.
Food supplies are critically limited. The electrical grid has been non-operational for two years, ever since Israel cut off power in the initial days of the war. Finding clean water is a constant struggle.
This past week, the United Nations reported “real progress” in increasing aid deliveries, but the World Food Program warned that it would take considerable time to reverse the dire conditions. These conditions led a U.N.-backed panel of food experts to declare parts of Gaza City and its surroundings were experiencing famine as early as August.
Israel, however, denies any famine, attributing food shortages to Hamas, looters, or what it describes as incompetent aid organizations.
The future remains profoundly uncertain. While the cease-fire has halted active combat, it is unclear if it signals an end to the broader conflict. The next round of peace negotiations has yet to be scheduled, and there is no clear timeline for reconstruction.
The Israeli military has retreated to a new deployment line in Gaza but still controls half of the enclave’s territory. On Friday, it reported opening fire on a vehicle it claimed had crossed this new boundary. The Gaza Civil Defense emergency service stated that at least nine people, including children, were killed in the incident.
For some residents, like Ms. Abu Ghanem, the living conditions are so dire that they express a desperate desire to leave Gaza permanently.
One of her first actions upon returning to Gaza City was to walk through the shattered remains of her neighborhood, hoping to recognize a familiar face or landmark.
“There was no one at all around,” she recounted. “There were no services, no water or electricity, and, of course, no markets to buy food.”
Ms. Abu Ghanem was once something of a local celebrity. She was a surfer, a rare sight in Gaza, particularly among women. Her story was featured in international newspapers and documentaries, including “Gaza Surf Club.”
Societal pressures eventually led her to stop surfing. She married and had three children. Still, she continued to swim and harbored dreams of establishing a club to teach girls how to swim and surf.
Now, she says, her only dream is to leave Gaza for the sake of her children.
Before the war, her children discussed school and their aspirations for the future. Today, she explains, they exchange tips on how to start a fire for cooking or where to find water from the few trucks that have set up in town.
“I want them to enjoy a much better life than mine,” she stated. “Gaza is not a place for life or dreams.”
However, others who have returned to Gaza City remain determined to stay.
Fatima Abu Steita, 27, returned with her husband, Abdallah Abu Nada, 47, seeking their home in the Zeitoun neighborhood. But she confirmed they never found it because it was “completely erased.”
“Everything around that neighborhood is flat ground,” she added. “Rebuilding life here feels like trying to plant a tree in stone.”
She now resides with relatives in the Shati neighborhood, describing the living situation as “10 souls under one cracked roof.”
Ms. Abu Seita acknowledged knowing families who “came back, took one look at their street, and left.” Yet, for her, returning to Gaza City, regardless of its condition, felt empowering.
“It’s a return to nothing, yes,” she affirmed. “But it’s also saying: ‘We are still here.’”
However, for those who have chosen to remain despite the widespread destruction, Gaza City feels increasingly perilous.
The territory has endured two years of lawlessness and a near-absence of governance.
Since the cease-fire began, Hamas has started to reassert its authority. In some areas, this involves masked fighters directing traffic. In others, it has manifested as Hamas gunmen killing rivals in brutal street battles and summary executions.
Even before their return to Gaza City, Ms. Abu Ghanem stated she prevented her children from leaving home at night because “everyone outside has a gun, a knife, or even a screwdriver.”
Now, some returnees fear they could become entangled in the escalating internecine violence.
“There is no law or police — people take the law into their own hands,” she said. “An eye for an eye is the law now.”
