AT the sight of her son Ahmed’s bullet-riddled body laid out in the courtyard of Nasser Hospital in southern Gaza, Asmahan Shaat collapsed on the ground, overcome by grief. Her screams echoed through the air, her voice choked by shock and sorrow.
She kissed the 23-year-old’s face, hands and feet as she cried. Her six other children and relatives tried to hold her back, but she pushed them away.
“Leave me with him. Leave me with him,” she cried. “Ahmed will speak again. He told me, ‘Mom, I am not going to die. I’ll bring you something from the aid centre in Rafah.’”
Ahmed had left the displaced family’s shelter in al-Mawasi before dawn on Thursday to collect food. He never returned.
His cousin, Mazen Shaat, was with him. Mazen said Ahmed was shot in the abdomen when Israeli forces opened fire on a crowd near the United States-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) aid distribution centre in Rafah. Others were also killed and wounded.
In just one month, 600 Palestinians have been killed and more than 4,200 wounded by Israeli fire near GHF aid distribution sites, according to Gaza’s Government Media Office, and the number of deaths at these centres climbs on a near-daily basis. What were meant to be lifelines – facilitated by the US while bypassing United Nations agencies – have instead become fatal chokepoints.
Human rights organisations and UN officials have criticised the GHF model as militarised, dangerous and unlawful. A report published by the Israeli newspaper Haaretz on Friday quoted Israeli army soldiers saying they had been ordered to shoot into unarmed crowds, even when no threat was present.
Asmahan’s grief turned to fury: “Is it reasonable that my son should die because he went to bring us food? Where is the world that calls itself free? How long will this torture go on?”
Gaza’s population of 2 million people, worn out by 21 months of relentless bombing and displacement, has been pushed to the brink of famine by Israel’s restrictions that have, since March 2, allowed only a trickle of humanitarian items through the sealed crossings it controls.
Inside the morgue at Nasser Hospital, not far from where Ahmed lay, 25-year-old Shireen threw herself on the body of her husband, Khalil al-Khatib, 29. She was barely able to stand as she sobbed.
“Khalil, get up. Your son Ubaida is waiting for you,” she cried. “I told him this morning, ‘Daddy will come back soon.’ We don’t want food – we want you.”
Khalil had also left from al-Mawasi in search of aid. His father-in-law, Youssef al-Rumailat, said Khalil was careful to avoid Israeli tanks and never expected to be targeted.
