Endless Pain of the Search for Gaza's Missing Martyrs
TEHRAN (Defapress) - With broken yet hopeful hearts, thousands of Palestinians returned to northern Gaza following the announcement of the ceasefire on Friday, searching through mounds of rubble and dust for any trace of their lost loved ones. This return is not merely a journey into a devastated past, but an effort to restore the denied human dignity to those who were martyred under Israel's bombardment.
The Gaza Civil Defense estimates that around 10,000 Palestinians are buried under the rubble left by the Zionist regime's brutal attacks. The ceasefire has provided an opportunity for rescue workers to begin the search for the bodies of the martyrs and offer a moment of peace to the grieving families. But this task, faced with 60 million tons of debris and a lack of heavy equipment, looms before them like a colossal mountain.
Ghali Khadr, a 40-year-old man from Jabalia, is one of those grieving. For two whole days, he begged his parents to flee with him to southern Gaza, hoping to put some distance between them and the shadow of death. But his father, a man known for his iron will and boundless patience, chose to stay. That conversation, however, never reached its conclusion; an Israeli airstrike crushed the family home, burying Khadr's parents under a pile of stone and iron.
On Sunday, 2 days after the ceasefire, Khadr returned to the ruins of his home. With trembling hands and a heart filled with sorrow, he searched for hours amidst the shattered concrete and twisted metal for any sign of them. What he found were only fragments of their skulls and hands. Khadr says: "My father was a retired ambulance driver; he was never afraid of anything." He took his parents' remains to a cemetery that had itself been destroyed by the relentless bombardment of the war. Finally, next to a few intact graves, he buried what was left of his parents' bodies.
The challenge facing the rescue workers is beyond imagination. The massive rubble and unexploded bombs have made the work extremely difficult. Without access to heavy machinery, rescue teams venture into the ruins with pickaxes and sledgehammers, or even with their bare hands. Khaled al-Ayoubi, the 64-year-old head of the Northern Gaza Civil Defense, says in a voice filled with exhaustion: "Our priority is to collect the bodies scattered in the streets, before stray dogs can harm them." This image doubles the bitterness of their reality.
The rescue workers tread carefully, as at any moment a bomb could explode and take their lives. Dr. Mohammed al-Mugheer, a 38-year-old director of humanitarian support, says: "If Israel allows the entry of heavy equipment, perhaps we could recover all the bodies within six months to a year." But for many families, this wait is an agonizing pain.
Yahya al-Muqra, a 32-year-old young man from Jabalia, is an example of this endless suffering. He believes his brother, Sharif, was martyred after their home was bombed on July 25th. Al-Muqra returned to the ruins of his brother's house, but found no trace of Sharif. He says: "It was as if the earth had swallowed him. The house and everything around it had turned to dust." Sharif suffered from epilepsy, and Yahya fears that if the bombing didn't kill him, the lack of medication led to his martyrdom. On Sunday, Yahya continued searching with his bare hands, but found nothing but despair. He added: "I just wanted a piece of his clothing or a sign of him. Without heavy machinery, this is impossible."
The pain of not knowing is a wound that does not heal for the families. For months in exile, far from their destroyed homes, they have waited for the moment to find even a fragment of their loved ones to bid them farewell. This wait has worn down their souls. Fadi al-Salibi, a 35-year-old rescue worker, says: "For the families, finding the bodies is not just the end of the wait, but a tribute to their martyrs. They believe this act brings peace to the souls of their loved ones." Under the scorching Gaza sun, the rescue workers labor with tireless precision alongside the anxious families, as if moving aside each piece of rubble holds the hope of restoring peace.
Yahya al-Muqra still hopes to one day find a clue about Sharif. With the destruction of the neighborhood cemeteries, he plans to bury his brother in the garden of their home. With a lump in his throat, he says: "My heart is broken because Sharif has not yet been laid to rest. Even a small bone would allow us to bury him and find a moment of peace."
