Palestinians recount chaos, suffocation during the GHF stampede and the extreme hunger that drove them to risk their lives.
Khan Younis, Gaza Strip – Eighteen-year-old Hani Hammad never imagined that his daily search for flour would end with him suffocating and being trampled.
On Wednesday morning, he left his tent in the al-Mawasi area of southern Gaza’s Khan Younis, where he’s been displaced from Rafah along with his seven siblings, heading to a food distribution point run by the much-criticised, United States-backed GHF.
“We left at dawn and stood among the thousands gathered. About 5am [02:00 GMT], they [US staff and Israeli army] signalled to open the gate, and people rushed forward,” Hani told media.
“The gate was open, but people were packed into a very narrow corridor leading to it – only about seven metres wide,” he said, struggling to catch his breath after arriving at Nasser Hospital gasping and barely conscious.
“I got in with the crowd with difficulty. Suddenly, American guards started spraying pepper spray and firing gas bombs, and people began stampeding through the corridor,” he added.
“I felt like I was dying. I couldn’t move forward or backwards. I collapsed. My face and side were trampled. No one could pull me out. But God gave me a second chance,” Hani said.
He was rushed unconscious to Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis on a tuk-tuk and initially placed beside the bodies of others who had died, some from suffocation, others from bullet wounds.
“I was unconscious, couldn’t see or hear. I drifted in and out. They put me beside the dead. I thought I was one of them.”
Hani is the oldest of eight siblings who live next to their uncle’s tent – their parents remain in Jordan, where they travelled for medical treatment just a month before the war began.
“I feel like I carry a huge burden. We’ve endured the pressures of displacement and war without our parents and without any help from them,” he said.
Though he acknowledges that lining up for aid from the GHF is a major daily risk, he adds: “Our intense hunger pushes me to go every day.”
“There’s no other choice. I have no money to buy the overpriced goods available in the markets. My only option is to try my luck with aid distributions,” says the young man.
“Each time is a near-death experience. There’s gunfire, tanks, drones and attacks. What kind of aid distribution is this? We are exhausted, truly exhausted.”
‘I collapsed. They trampled my face.’
Mohammed Abedin, 24, now lies in a hospital bed with a leg wound after heading to the same aid centre in Khan Younis early Wednesday.
For the first time, he says, he chose to turn back after sensing the danger of the crowd surge.
“When the gates opened, everyone rushed forward, and people began falling underfoot.”
Mohammed described a terrifying scene of people crushed against the metal barriers, screaming and gasping for help, as pepper spray and gas bombs were fired by American guards and quadcopters above.
“I was standing close to my cousin, watching. We decided not to go in because of the overwhelming numbers. I saw kids screaming, choking, men and youth trapped. No one could move forward or back.”
“The fenced corridor, with gas bombs raining down and people being pushed through, became a death trap,” he says.
Mohammed and his cousin tried to leave, but just as he thought he had made a wise choice, a quadcoptor shot him in the leg. His cousin was also injured.
“There’s always random gunfire from quadcaptors, tanks, or soldiers in the area. This time, I was the unlucky one,” he said. “But thank God, I survived.”
Mohammed reflects on the tragic situation faced by Palestinians, caught between starvation and death, forced to risk their lives for food. He supports his displaced family of nine, originally from Rafah and now sheltering in al-Mawasi.
“We dream daily of eating bread. I go for aid almost every day and usually return empty-handed. But the days I brought home just a few kilos of flour felt like ‘an eid’ [a celebration] for my family.”
Flour is the top priority for Mohammed, especially with Gaza being under siege for four months, the borders sealed, and humanitarian and commercial goods blocked by Israel.
“Bread is what drives me to risk death. There’s no alternative,” he said, awaiting surgery at Nasser Hospital to remove a bullet from his leg. “Has the world failed to provide a safe channel for aid delivery?”
“There’s no system, no organised relief, no police or UN intervention. We’re shot at like animals. If we don’t die of hunger, we die in the chaos and stampedes.”
