Nadeen*, 38, is a Save the Children staff member in Gaza. She was displaced for 16 months with her husband and four children Laila*, 13, Suhaila*, 11, Mazen*, 7 and Majed*, 4. The family returned to their home in Gaza City, walking almost nine kms (5.5 miles), once roads reopened.
As I walked through the doors of our damaged home, I made one promise to my children: we will never leave Gaza City again.
It's been hard to keep any promises during 16 months of relentless war. My children have lost loved ones, friends, and their sense of security. But now, we're finally back in the only home they've ever known.
I have four children, the youngest just four years old and the oldest 13. They all rushed into our battered house, searching for cherished belongings - their schoolbooks and toys. Tragically, most of our possessions are either destroyed, burned, or buried under rubble.
My youngest cried, distressed that his toys were damaged. He said, “Mama, why is Gaza so broken?”
Gaza is not just where we live. It is an inseparable part of who we are.
‘A glimmer of hope’
The level of destruction is beyond description. Rubble and debris fill every corner. A blanket of grey dust shrouds destroyed buildings and stretches as far as the eye can see. Our old neighbourhood has been flattened and is almost unrecognizable.
However, our home, battered and in parts reduced to rubble, is still standing. It was a glimmer of hope amidst the devastation.
Gaza City is not like any other place for us. It's where my children's roots, schools, best friends, life, and family are. It is where we built our lives, where every street and corner is familiar, where everything—our homes, schools, markets, and loved ones—is within reach.
It's so painful to see our cherished buildings either destroyed or completely disfigured.
The rubble is littered with dangers, like unexploded ordnance - the remnants of weaponry that has already condemned 475 children each month to potentially lifelong disabilities, including severely injured limbs and hearing impairments.
Despite our best efforts to shield our children, they struggled to understand why they had to leave.
We walk with our hearts, not our feet
The experience of displacement was painful and dehumanising. Nowhere else felt like home.
For more than a year, thousands of Palestinian children and families like mine have been forced to moved time after time into smaller and smaller spaces. Nearly all of Gaza’s population has been displaced. Around 1.9 million people – 90% per cent of Gaza’s population – have been internally displaced.
Once the pause in hostilities was finally announced, my mother, three children, and I screamed, sang, clapped. Not because it would bring back our loved ones or end the suffering, but because it meant we might finally be able to go home.
We set off at dawn, joining the tens of thousands of people returning to see what was left of their former lives in northern Gaza. Vehicles were not allowed, so carrying everything we own on our backs once again, we walked nearly nine kms (5.5 miles) to reach home, a journey that took just over three hours
When I told my children it would be on foot, they said, "Mama, we'll not get tired because we walk with our hearts, not our feet."
We left Gaza City to protect them from hunger and shelling. But all of Gaza's 1.1 million children have felt the impacts of this war.
‘The scars of displacement’
For my children, the first thing they rushed to find was their schoolbooks. Almost every school and university in Gaza has been destroyed, and my children have not been in a classroom since October 2023.
This is particularly hard for me because I am a mother but also an education and mental health specialist working with Save the Children in Gaza. I know the importance of learning and socialising for children.
Save the Children is helping children in Gaza by setting up temporary learning centres and providing essential school supplies like textbooks and desks to ensure they can continue their education despite the destruction. We are also offering psychosocial support to help children and their caregivers cope with the trauma of war, addressing issues like anxiety, fear, and nightmares to support their emotional recovery.
I have tried to keep my own children learning during the past 16 months and I try my best to apply all available techniques - breathing exercises, stress release methods, and emotional support - to help my children heal. However, the depth of their trauma means the road to recovery will be long.
Adults in Gaza are suffering deeply, but children - like my own – face unique challenges and painful memories that are long-lasting, and some even life-threatening. Their small bodies are more vulnerable to malnutrition, dehydration, and disease, which have all surged with the collapse of basic services.
Without urgent aid, like food, clean water, medical care, and education, children cannot begin to recover. Mental health support is critical to help them heal from the deep scars this war has left behind.
Now, I teach my children the power of hope, even as I, too, seek the strength to hold onto it.
For further enquiries please contact:
Soraya Ali, Global Media Manager MENAEE soraya.ali@savethechildren.org
Our media out of hours (BST) contact is media@savethechildren.org.uk / +44(0)7831 650409