Since the October 2023 escalation between Israel and Palestinian armed groups, Gaza has become a graveyard for civilians. Entire families have vanished under rubble. Hospitals have collapsed, both structurally and functionally. And the world — despite its outcry — has done little more than watch.
What began as a military operation, framed by Israeli officials as retaliation, quickly devolved into one of the deadliest periods for Palestinians in recent history. The human cost of this war is staggering, and much of it has been borne not by militants or politicians — but by children, women, and ordinary civilians who had nowhere to run.
From October 2023 to July 2025, over 45,000 Palestinians have been killed, according to estimates from humanitarian groups operating in the region. Among them are more than 17,000 children, some crushed beneath concrete, others burned alive in fires sparked by missiles. Pregnant women, newborns in incubators, the elderly praying in mosques, students attending school — no one has been spared.
Israeli airstrikes have hit refugee camps, hospitals, media offices, apartment complexes, and even United Nations shelters. Often, entire blocks are wiped out in minutes. Survivors dig with bare hands, looking for loved ones. Many find only fragments.
In early 2024, Al-Shifa Hospital — Gaza’s largest medical facility — was reduced to a hollowed-out shell. What was once a lifeline for over two million residents now operates without consistent electricity, clean water, or supplies. Patients die not from their wounds, but from the impossibility of care. Premature babies have died in incubators when power failed. Mothers have bled to death on operating tables. The scenes echo wartime Europe, not the 21st century.
Across Gaza, hunger has returned in full force. With Israel’s blockade cutting off food, fuel, and medicine, humanitarian aid trickles in sporadically and under fire. According to the World Food Programme, over 85% of Gaza’s population is now food insecure. In some areas, people are boiling grass and animal feed to survive. Children show signs of severe malnutrition. A famine is not looming — it has arrived.
Meanwhile, in the occupied West Bank, settler violence has surged, emboldened by political rhetoric and military support. Armed Israeli settlers, often shielded by soldiers, have stormed Palestinian villages, torched olive groves, destroyed homes, and attacked residents with impunity. Children have been shot during dawn raids. Teenage boys are taken from their homes, blindfolded, beaten, and held without trial under Israel’s “administrative detention” policy — a relic of colonial law.
In Nablus and Jenin, drone strikes and sniper fire are now common. Streets once bustling with life are littered with debris, tear gas canisters, and blood. Schools operate under constant fear. The Palestinian Ministry of Education has reported the destruction of more than 300 schools and the deaths of over 2,000 students and teachers since the war began.
The psychological toll is immeasurable. In Gaza, children draw pictures of tanks and drones instead of flowers. They no longer cry when they hear bombs — they flinch silently, conditioned by months of trauma. UNICEF psychologists describe widespread signs of PTSD among kids as young as four. Many no longer speak. Some wet their beds. Others simply stare — waiting.
The Israeli government insists that it targets Hamas operatives and infrastructure. Yet, the scale and precision of civilian devastation contradict those claims. Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have accused Israel of disproportionate force and war crimes. The use of white phosphorus in densely populated areas has also been documented — a chemical that burns flesh to the bone and is outlawed under international humanitarian law when used against civilians.
The International Criminal Court has opened an investigation, though Israel and the United States continue to reject its jurisdiction. In May 2025, the United Nations passed a resolution calling for an immediate ceasefire and investigation into civilian deaths. The resolution was vetoed by the United States.
On the ground, Palestinians have little hope left. In Rafah, a father held up the shattered body of his child and screamed into the camera: “Where is the world? Does my son not deserve to live because he was born in Gaza?”
This is not a war between equals. It is an occupation enforced by one of the world’s most technologically advanced militaries against a population without a state, without an army, and — increasingly — without a voice. Palestinians have been labeled terrorists for throwing stones. Their homes have been bulldozed for “security reasons.” Their very existence has been politicized and denied.
This is not just a humanitarian crisis. It is a slow, deliberate erasure — of people, of history, of culture. To look away now is to be complicit.
The world must stop measuring Palestinian suffering only when rockets are fired in return. It must see the daily siege, the checkpoint humiliations, the destroyed childhoods, and the silenced dreams. It must recognize that the killing of one Israeli does not justify the slaughter of hundreds of Palestinians. Justice cannot be selective. Grief should not be racialized.
For Palestine to live, the world must finally see. And act.
