The Occupation Killed Every Member of My Family by Bombing Our Home

The crime committed by the occupation forces against my family is not unique among the thousands of crimes inflicted on the Palestinian people since the occupation of Palestine in 1948. However, the crimes committed during this war are particularly massive and heinous, beyond description. I lost all members of my family, my home, and everything beautiful in this war. Now, I am alone, without family, friends, relatives, or a home.

This is a summary of my experience during this war. I am Mohammed Ali Al-Bibi, a 17-year-old tenth-grade student. I used to live with my family in our house in the Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City. Our life was peaceful and beautiful before the war, but everything has changed, and I've lost everything I had.

My story began when my sister, Zuhwa, called me. She and her family had fled in the early days of the Israeli war on Gaza to a school for displaced people run by UNRWA in the Nusseirat camp after their house was bombed and completely destroyed by the occupation. She asked me to bring diapers and some necessities for her baby daughter. I provided what she needed and set out from our house in Gaza City to the Nusseirat camp on foot.

The Israeli occupation forces were stationed near the Martyrs' Junction on Salah al-Din Street, dividing Gaza into two sections. I passed by the occupation vehicles while carrying a white piece of cloth and the diapers and milk for my niece. I saw many bodies lying on the ground and witnessed dozens of martyrs. The occupation allowed some civilians, including me, to pass, subjecting us to thorough inspection.

After a difficult journey, I reached the shelter school and gave my sister the supplies for her baby daughter. On the same day, I returned to Salah al-Din Street to go back to my home and family in the Zaytoun neighborhood. However, the occupation forces prevented us from passing and fired bullets at us, instructing us to return from another street. When we arrived 4 kilometers away on foot, the occupation forces prevented us from passing again. I returned to my sister at the shelter school in the Nusseirat camp.

My brother Ismail had arrived at the displacement school in Nusseirat a few days before my sister. In late December 2023, Ismail left the displacement school and headed to the Malaysian Quranic school on the northern outskirts of the Nusseirat camp, wanting to be closer to Gaza City.

Every day, Ismail tried to return to Gaza City, but the occupation forces fired at him. They had infiltrated the Magra'ah area and the entire Zahraa neighborhood. Despite this, Ismail was deeply connected to our mother and siblings and wanted to return to our family.

In their last attempt, Ismail, aged 20, and my cousin Khamees Ahmed Al-Bibi, aged 23, tried to return to Gaza City. On the outskirts of Wadi Gaza, the occupation forces directly fired at them. Khamees was instantly killed by a bullet to his chest and was identified by the ID card he had in his pocket.

My cousin Ismail was buried, but for the past five months, we have heard nothing about my brother Ismail. Some say he was martyred and buried in the sands after the northern Nusseirat area was raided and the Malaysian school destroyed. Others say he is detained by the occupation forces. I search for Ismail every day, but I know nothing about him. I hope he is still alive, and we can continue our lives together.

Communication with my family was through mobile phones, but it was difficult due to heavy blockage on the mobile network. I bought a SIM card from a national company, but still, communicating with my family was very difficult. My mother constantly reassured me, asking me to stay in school and take care of myself. But the occupation missiles reached them faster, killing them all.

On Tuesday, February 20, 2024, the occupation forces bombed my family's house in the Zaytoun neighborhood, destroying it. All members of my family were martyred. The occupation killed my father, Mohammed Ali Al-Bibi, 44 years old; my mother, Mona Al-Zarad, 42 years old; my brother Ali, 24 years old; my brother Ayman, 14 years old; and my brother Zaher, 10 years old. Also martyred in the bombing were my uncle Ahmed Al-Bibi's family, including his wife and their sons, Mohammed, 18 years old, and Saqr, 12 years old.

The occupation committed a large massacre against my family by bombing our house in the Zaytoun neighborhood. Everyone in my family home were civilians, and there is no justification for the occupation to commit such a heinous crime against them. I lost my entire family and was left alone. Due to poor communication, I only learned about my family's martyrdom 10 days after the occupation's crime. Since then, I have been suffering from severe psychological shock. I cannot comprehend how to continue my life alone. I couldn't bid them farewell or participate in their burial. The occupation killed my entire family, and I know nothing about my brother Ismail, whether he was killed or arrested. I live in constant worry and in a bad mental state.

Since January, I have been living with my sister Zuhwa, 26 years old; her husband Mohammed; and their children: Sabah, 8 years old; Mona, 6 years old; Rahef, 3 years old; and the infant Aziz, 10 months old, who was born shortly before the war. We are all displaced after the occupation destroyed our homes and killed our family in the Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City.

My sister and her children sleep in one of the school classrooms along with about 10 other families. My sister's husband sleeps with the men in a separate building designated for them. I couldn't find a space for myself to sleep in the men's building, so I sleep in a tent in the shelter center courtyard. We are facing difficult living conditions. We need water, food, and cleaning supplies. We need everything, but we only have a small mattress and blanket shared by multiple people for sleeping.

The shelter center management distributes food assistance to us, but it is minimal. They distribute only one bar of soap per family, which is not sufficient. We don't have clean water, and we don't have clothes. We have been wearing the same clothes since we were displaced from our homes several months ago. We have been wearing these clothes throughout the rest of the autumn and winter seasons and now into the spring.

When the occupation forces invaded the central Gaza camps in early January 2024, most families living in the shelter center left the school and fled to Deir al-Balah and the southern Gaza Strip. However, we refused to be displaced again for several reasons. Firstly, we didn't want to face displacement again, and secondly, we didn't have the money to move to another place. We decided to stay inside the shelter center despite the great danger we faced.

We lived in the center for three weeks in extreme danger. The occupation vehicles were very close to the school, and the quadcopter drones roamed inside the school and fired at anyone moving. My sister's husband, Adham, and I were shelled with an artillery shell while baking bread in the schoolyard. We left the bread and ran into the classrooms, and by God's grace, we survived the shelling.

During those three weeks, we couldn't find enough food. Our neighbors would send us whatever was left of their food. We couldn't find flour, and we couldn't find water for drinking or other uses. We lived for three weeks without food or drink, which was very harsh on us, especially on the children. We have been short of flour since the beginning of the war, barely managing to provide one meal a day for ourselves. We bake over the fire, but the amount of bread is insufficient due to the scarcity of flour. We try to ration its use so that one bag of flour lasts for several days.

Before the war, I was a student in the tenth grade, and after school, I used to work with my father in the tailoring profession. I helped him with household expenses. However, I lost my job during the war, and I lost my father and all members of my family. I worked in the Nusseirat camp in a meat shop, but after the camp was invaded, the employer fled to Rafah, and I lost my job. Currently, I only live on humanitarian aid like the rest of the residents of the Gaza Strip.

My dream is to continue my education and return to my home in Gaza City. I hope to find the burial place of my family, where I will visit their graves as soon as I return to the Zaytoun neighborhood. I dream of finding my brother Ismail alive. Many people tell me he was martyred, but I feel he is still alive, and I hope he is. I hope to be able to rebuild our house and start a family, from which I will have children whom I will name after my father, mother, and martyred siblings.

Since the martyrdom of my family, I have been in a bad mental state, losing focus, and suffering from nervous shock. I wish everything I've been through was just a dream, and I would wake up to find my family with me. I can't believe everything that has happened, and I no longer comprehend reality. My last communication with my family was a week before their martyrdom, and I lost my phone after their death. I sleep in a tent for displaced people. The war must stop, and the occupation must be held accountable for its heinous crime against my family.

If you have questions or concerns, please contact us at gazaunlocked@afsc.org.