Palestinian families and aid workers provide lifelines to Gaza's children left orphaned by Israel's genocide

'Survivor of the Sabra neighbourhood massacre'. This is what appears on the medical file of a baby girl with no identified relatives, who was evacuated on 19 November 2023 as part of a WHO-led joint UN and Red Crescent mission that rescued 31 seriously ill newborns.

Of those evacuated, 11 infants were in critical condition, all suffering from severe infections linked to the collapse of basic hospital care.

The evacuation came at a time when the Israeli siege of Al-Shifa Hospital in northern Gaza had left the neonatal unit unable to provide life support. Electricity, medicine and clean water were limited, while ongoing security risks disrupted care.

With treatment no longer possible, the babies were transferred in temperature-controlled incubators to the neonatal intensive care unit at Al-Helal Al-Emirati Maternity Hospital in southern Gaza.

It was at that hospital that 34-year-old nurse Amal Abu Khatlah became closely involved in the care of the unidentified baby girl. 

Explaining her role, Amal told The New Arab why the baby stood out to her. "I was especially drawn to her because she was unidentified, and I didn't like that label, so I chose the name Malak," she said, a name that means 'an angel' in English.

At the time, Amal expected her care for Malak to be temporary, lasting only until the genocide in Gaza ended and the child’s identity could be confirmed. Over time, however, that changed.

"I grew attached to her. She clung to me, and I felt all the emotions of being a mother. It became impossible for me to give her up or leave her," she said.

Alongside medical treatment, Amal also supported Malak emotionally. At three months old, she noticed the baby did not respond as other children her age did. With continued care, she says, that began to change.

"Now, she connects with everyone so beautifully," she said.

Families step in

According to Amal, Malak's case was not unique. During the genocide, she often saw infants and children arrive alone — some injured, others unidentified — separated not only from their families but also from any system able to trace or account for them.

That absence has increasingly become part of daily life in Gaza. Since 7 October 2023, more than 70,000 Palestinians have been killed, and an estimated 80% of the Strip's buildings have been damaged or destroyed, leaving entire neighbourhoods uninhabitable and families facing severe shortages of food, medicine, and other necessities.

As conditions have worsened, winter has brought further hardship. The cold has claimed 24 lives in Gaza, including 21 children, as shelters offer little protection and fuel for heating remains scarce.

The scale of loss has also created what the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics describes as the largest orphan crisis in modern history. More than 39,000 children have lost one or both parents, with around 17,000 left without either.

Against this backdrop, some families have stepped in to care for children left alone, taking them into their homes, providing food, helping with schoolwork, and staying with them day and night.

Love after loss

For Rami al-Arouqi, 47, and his wife, Iman Farhat, 45, that responsibility came after decades of waiting to have children of their own.

The couple spent 24 years hoping to have children, but that never happened. During the genocide, however, they met a child who had lost her parents in Israel's bombardment and chose to bring her into their lives.

The girl, later named Janna, meaning 'heaven' in Arabic, was just a few months old when she was rescued from the rubble of her destroyed home in central Gaza. Her identity was unknown, and no relatives could be found. After navigating complex legal procedures, she came fully under Rami and Iman's care, becoming legally and socially part of their family.

Looking back, Rami says he had not previously considered adoption. What he and his wife are experiencing now, he explains, feels larger than adoption or sponsorship, becoming a form of compensation both for the child who lost everything and for them after years of waiting.

"It is a blessing," he shared.

For Rami, the decision was also shaped by a broader sense of responsibility. "After everyone abandoned us, we had to stand by each other and become a support system," he told The New Arab. "Especially since children need some form of compensation, even if small, for what they have lost."

That responsibility has changed the couple's daily life. Before Janna arrived, they spent time caring for the children of relatives and friends.

"But in the end, the children would go back to their own families," he said. "Now, for the first time, there is a child who doesn't return to anyone else but comes straight into our arms."

The significance of that change is reflected in how Janna addresses him. "No one had ever called me 'father' before," Rami shares with The New Arab.

"I wait for it every hour. Usually, she calls me 'mama,' but when she's frightened or trapped, she calls me 'baba.' That's how I know she feels I'm there for her."

'I can't live without them'

While Rami and Iman chose to welcome a child into their family, others have been suddenly forced to take on responsibility following a devastating loss. 

One such example is 24-year-old Dima Hamdan, who now cares for three orphaned children from her husband's family, in addition to her own.

On 8 December 2023, Dima woke to an orange glow filling her bedroom in the Al-Nuseirat refugee camp. Moments later, her five-storey home collapsed following an Israeli airstrike, burying her, her husband and their four-month-old daughter beneath the rubble.

Trapped and struggling to breathe, they were surrounded by dust and smoke. Her baby's cries reached the neighbours first, and rescuers pulled the infant to safety before reaching Hamdan and her husband, who were later taken to the hospital, injured and exhausted.

In the days that followed, rescue teams recovered the bodies of 16 members of her extended family. Three children survived. Sisters Iman, 10, and Aya, 8, were pulled from the rubble hours after the strike, injured but alive. Six-month-old Karim was found alone in the street, having survived the blast. Their parents, like the sisters' parents, had been killed.

Displacement scattered the surviving relatives, and the children were initially taken in by different family members. A month later, Hamdan and her husband decided to care for all three.

"It didn't happen in a single moment," she said. "The decision came gradually, but once it was clear, we acted without hesitation. My husband, as their uncle, was the closest responsible family member."

At the time, Dima had one infant daughter and later gave birth to a son. Today, she and her husband care for the three orphans alongside their own children. Karim, the youngest orphan, was breastfed by Dima, which makes him legally part of the family under Islamic law.

Her days now revolve around care: waking the children, preparing meals, helping with schoolwork, tending to a child with special needs, supervising play, and managing the household. Evenings are spent feeding, bathing, and putting the children to bed.

Reflecting on the responsibility, she said: "The hardest question was whether I could truly provide for them — not just with food and clothing, but with education and proper care."

She does not describe her decision as charity, but as an obligation. "They have no mother and no father. I am responsible for them," she said.

"Sometimes I tell myself I can't handle this responsibility. But I've grown used to this life and to them. I can't live without them. They are my children."

Malak Hijazi is a writer from Gaza