‘We don’t feel safe’: after week of bombings, people in Gaza are losing faith in ceasefire | Gaza

A.Meen al-Zein, like many in Gaza, was delighted by the news of the ceasefire. It was a rare moment of relief after years of fear and loss. In an interview with a local NGO on Tuesday night, he urged people to return to their homes in northern Gaza now that the fighting has ended. Just half an hour later, Zein was killed in an Israeli bomb attack on the school where he took shelter in Beit Lahia, north of Gaza.

He died before he could fulfill his promise to his wife that they would return to Beit Lahia and pitch a tent on the rubble; He longed to be home, even though it was no longer there.

“When the last ceasefire was declared, Abu Luay felt very happy and relieved,” said his wife Maryam, giving herself a family name. “He told me that eventually the bloodshed would stop and people would be able to live in peace. Unfortunately, this feeling did not last long. Israel violated the ceasefire once again.”

Zein was one of 115 people killed and 352 injured during Israel’s 24-hour bombardment of Gaza this week, according to Gaza’s health ministry. The attacks came after Hamas returned the body parts of a hostage rescued by Israeli soldiers two years ago and after Palestinian militants attacked Israeli soldiers in southern Gaza.

It was the deadliest day in Gaza since the ceasefire was declared on October 10, and one of the deadliest in the entire two-year war.

The bombings were the latest in a series of attacks in which Israel violated a three-week ceasefire in Gaza. After the initial excitement about the ceasefire declaration, concerns arose among the people of Gaza. They fear that the ceasefire does not mean an end to the war, but rather less frequent and more random outbreaks of violence that they cannot predict. This randomness makes it much more difficult to imagine and plan their own future.

Hussain Abu Munir feels the uncertainty of the ceasefire as he commutes to work every day. He takes a bus full of other displaced medical professionals from southern Gaza to workplaces in northern Gaza.

Coming together so openly with other medical professionals is already unnerving after two years of war in which healthcare workers have become targets. At least 1,722 medical workers were killed during the war in Gaza, according to Medical Aid for Palestine. But the journey from the Netzarim checkpoint to northern Gaza leaves Abu Munir fearing for his life.

“Every day we go and come back, it feels like we’re embarking on a dangerous, uncertain journey, unprotected and unsecured,” the 40-year-old nurse said. “My biggest fear is not for myself, but for my children, whom I left alone in the south while going to work.”

She said she was afraid Israel would close the Netzarim checkpoint while she was at work, meaning she would not be able to return to her children.

On Wednesday, Israeli artillery began firing randomly as Abu Munir approached the Netzarim checkpoint. People screamed for the buses to stop, but they managed to pass unharmed.

“We have not encountered any direct targeting on our way, but the truth is that no one can guarantee our security,” Abu Munir said.

Despite this week’s bombings and high death toll, international mediators said they were confident the ceasefire would hold. Donald Trump said nothing could jeopardize the ceasefire, while US vice president JD Vance downplayed the violence as “skirmishes”.

Following these statements, Israel attacked Gaza again on Wednesday and this time said it targeted Hamas’ weapons depots that would be used in an imminent attack.

The ongoing attacks are troubling for those in Gaza, who worry that Israel is being dragged into a ceasefire similar to that in Lebanon, where Israel has launched daily airstrikes despite a year-long ceasefire.

For 36-year-old English teacher Ikram Nasser, the ceasefire has so far been a disappointment. He hoped this would provide the security needed to return his own children and students to classrooms after a two-year suspension of education.

He observed that children decline socially as play and learning, the normal staples of childhood, are overtaken by the brutal logistics of survival.

“Many of them have become more aggressive and rude, not because of their own choosing, but because of the reality they are forced to live with. These children are now chasing food deliveries, aid trucks and even water tankers,” Nasser said.

In the early days of the ceasefire, there seemed to be a chance of returning these children to normal. More tents were converted into classrooms and children began lining up outside, eager to learn.

“Some arrive as early as seven in the morning, an hour before classes start, because they miss learning and the sense of normalcy they have been deprived of for so long,” Nasser said.

But this week’s bombings have shattered any illusions for children and adults that life in Gaza could soon return to normal.

“Even now we don’t feel safe,” Nasser said. “Every day there is a new ceasefire violation. The situation continues to be extremely difficult for us mothers and teachers. We no longer trust that the ceasefire will continue.”