Photos: Searching for a ‘Trace of Home’ in the Ruins of Northern Gaza

Entire neighborhoods that teemed with life just weeks ago are now rubble and ash. Absent any sense of safety, residents struggle to imagine a future.

When Israeli forces withdrew from Gaza City earlier this month as the ceasefire took hold, Jamal Atta Abu Tabeikh and his family of 15 joined the masses returning after being exiled by the latest invasion. The 60-year-old expected that coming back to his city might bring some sense of safety, or at least “a trace of what used to be home,” he told +972 Magazine. 

Instead, he said, what he found when he got to his neighborhood of Sheikh Radwan was indescribable. “I returned to find my house completely destroyed, with nothing left but rubble and dust. I searched among the ruins for remnants of my children’s clothes, for anything that might remind me of them — a toy, a piece of fabric, even a scent of the past. But even that was impossible.”

And it wasn’t just Sheikh Radwan; virtually all of Gaza City’s landmarks had disappeared. “The streets we once knew no longer exist,” Abu Tabeikh continued. “Neighborhoods have turned into piles of debris. We came back to the unknown. Many people can’t even find where their homes used to be.”

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The basics of life in the city are also severely lacking — particularly food, water, and medical care. “We try our best to find something, anything, to feed the children,” he explained. “Sometimes we wait for hours just to fill a single container of water. Hospitals are overflowing with the sick and wounded, and many die simply because there is no medicine or treatment available.”

Meanwhile, Israel continues to bomb Gaza despite the ceasefire, meaning there is no safety to be found. “Fear surrounds us and the sounds of war never truly stop,” he continued. “Every ceasefire feels temporary, like a pause before the next storm. We live clinging to hope that this tragedy will end, and that we might again one day have a place we can call ‘home.’”

Umm Saeed Abu Warda, 61, is from Jabalia, north of Gaza City. She lived in a small house “filled with life,” including her six children and several grandchildren whose “laughter and play brought warmth to every corner.”

In September, as Israel’s assault on Gaza City intensified, the family fled with whatever they could carry. “The journey south was a nightmare,” she told +972. “The sound of bombing never stopped and the sky was thick with smoke. I saw mothers like me carrying their exhausted children, and fathers searching for a place to hide from the unknown.”

When the ceasefire was announced, they rushed back to Jabalia as soon as they could. “I told myself, ‘I’ll find my home as I left it — I’ll open the door and smell the bread I used to bake,’” she said. But when she arrived, “there was no home, only a heap of stones and ash. The neighborhood that once buzzed with life was gone. The houses that echoed with neighbors’ voices stood silent and broken.”

Abu Warda set up a tent beside the ruins of their house, but the thin fabric does little to shield them from the cold. “Life is unbearably hard,” she explained. “Sometimes we share a single loaf of bread. Bathing has become a luxury, and getting treatment for the sick feels impossible.”

What breaks her heart the most, she said, is that thousands of bodies remain trapped under the rubble, absent the necessary equipment to locate and extract them. “So many people are still missing. I wait for news of friends and neighbors who disappeared without a trace, as if the earth swallowed them whole.”

Still, she endeavors to maintain a positive mindset. “Despite everything, we try to hold on to hope that one day, peace will return, and our children will grow up in a Gaza that knows life, not war.”

Saeed Assaf, 28, also returned to Jabalia after the ceasefire — knowing that his home would no longer be there. “People often ask me, ‘Why did you go back north?’ My answer is always the same: Because this is our land. No matter what happens, I cannot live away from it.”

He is determined, he said, to stay in Jabalia and build a new life for himself, despite the extreme hardships. But he is haunted by the fear of Israel’s bombardment resuming in full force. 

“This homeland is precious to us, and it deserves our sacrifices,” Assaf said. “But the thought of the war returning is a nightmare. It would be another tragedy for everyone here. At the same time, we feel there’s nothing left to lose. 

“Deep inside, I still hold onto hope that I can rebuild my home, get married, have children, and see them grow up in a place free from fear and destruction,” Assaf continued. “But today, it feels like that dream has ended.”