Stolen childhoods: Gaza's young girls shoulder adult responsibilities amid war and family loss

At just 15 years old, Hala Suhail Madi's childhood came to an abrupt end when a massacre during Israel's two-year genocide in Gaza killed 25 members of her extended family.

With only her father's immediate family left alive — and her mother and injured sisters sent abroad for medical treatment — Hala suddenly found herself in Gaza caring for her father, her brother, and three young cousins, the youngest just four years old. On top of that, she became the sole caretaker of a baby who had lost his entire family.

"He needed milk, nappies, and constant attention. I had to take care of him along with all my other family responsibilities. I wasn't prepared for it," she recalls.

From that moment, Hala notes that she was forced to take on responsibilities far beyond her years. She became a caregiver and protector, so much so that her cousin Khalil — who has no memory of the massacre — now calls her "Mama Hala."

Watching him play outside their rented home in Deir al-Balah, where the family resettled after fleeing Gaza City, Hala explains, "Following him and watching him is a responsibility. I don't want to keep him indoors and stop him from playing with other children, but I watch him closely in case of a speeding car or if he wanders too far, or if anything bad happens."

She continues, "It was difficult at first, but Khalil became part of my life, and I became attached to him as he was to me. I felt like his mother. I take care of him — feeding him, playing with him, fulfilling his requests, changing and washing his clothes — while also looking after my father, brother, and the rest of my cousins who survived the massacre."

Now 17, Hala's responsibilities continue to grow. Beyond caring for her cousins, she manages the household — cooking for everyone while learning recipes and other skills through video calls with her mother, who is abroad and guides her from a distance.

"At first, I didn't know anything about cooking. For every meal, I would call my mother in the UAE, and she would guide me step by step, teaching me the ingredients and how to prepare each dish. Over time, with practice, I learned and started to get the hang of it," she shares.

Hala adds that even before fully taking on these duties, she had been stepping up to support her family during repeated displacements. She cooked in relatives' homes and sent food to her father and brother while they sheltered elsewhere, quietly keeping the family together amid the chaos.

Reflecting on the weight of her responsibilities, Hala says that as she enters her final year of school, she can barely find even an hour to study amid the many duties she has taken on.

A wider pattern

Hala's experience is just one of many. In Khan Younis, 16-year-old Dina Hamada Zareb now lives in an orphan camp with ten siblings, including four step-siblings.

Dina's life was torn apart when both of her parents were killed — her father in January 2024 while checking on their home, and her mother in June during a strike on a displacement tent. 

Left suddenly responsible for six of her siblings while her stepmother cares for the other four, Dina faces new challenges every day.

Every morning, she wakes early, prepares whatever food is available, lights the wood-burning stove, and makes tea. Then, she sits with her siblings at a table that now bears the weight of loss, where there was once the warmth of their parents.

After that comes the task of fetching water: she lines up with her brother, carries heavy containers back to the tent, and helps her younger siblings with their studies and daily tasks.

Her stepmother says Dina carries "a burden far beyond her age," managing the household and caring for her siblings almost entirely on her own.

As a result of these circumstances, Dina rarely has time for friends or to be a typical teenager.

"I grew up overnight," she says. "Losing my parents was unbearable. I try to take care of everyone, but sometimes it's too much. I sit alone and cry because I can't meet all their needs. The hardest times were during the famine, when my siblings asked for food, and I had nothing to give them."

With a look of sadness, she acknowledges that this daily struggle is far from temporary and that she will carry these responsibilities for years, until her siblings grow up and can take care of themselves.

Carrying the load

Further north, 19-year-old Shahd Yahya faces similar pressures after her mother left Gaza for treatment abroad.

During repeated displacements, Shahd explains that she packed and repacked the family's belongings, ensuring nothing essential was left behind. Since then, she has managed the family's daily survival.

And although she is exhausted, especially from preparing bread, Shahd adds that she is proud of what she has accomplished, particularly given the difficult circumstances caused by her mother's illness and her time away for treatment.

"This responsibility has changed me," she shares. "It has made me more aware and mature, and taught me to endure even the hardest situations."

At the same time, she acknowledges the challenges, admitting she "has no time for rest or study" and had hoped to spend her late teenage years focusing on school rather than stepping into a mother's role.

Nevertheless, she believes this experience has prepared her for the challenges of motherhood, instilled responsibility from an early age, and given her valuable experience with many situations she may face in the future.

A generation pushed into adulthood

Upon reflection, the stories of Hala, Dina, and Shahd offer only a small glimpse of what thousands of girls across Gaza face.

But even this small glimpse is enough to show the shocking extent to which girls' childhoods are being lost, as they are forced to care for their families after parents are killed, injured, or evacuated.

As it stands, local authorities report that nearly 37,000 children in Gaza have been orphaned, including many who have lost both parents.

The genocide has also left around 17,000 widows, while thousands of injured civilians have been transferred abroad for treatment, leaving younger family members to manage on their own.

As these numbers continue to rise, even with a ceasefire in place, the future remains concerning.

In Gaza, recent airstrikes, shelling, and gunfire — particularly near the so-called 'Yellow Line' — have caused hundreds of deaths and injuries, triggered new waves of displacement, and, combined with brutal winter conditions, disrupted services and heightened protection risks, especially for children and other vulnerable groups. 

At the same time, tensions persist in the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, where Israeli forces entered UNRWA premises, and ongoing military operations continue in the north.

Although UNRWA has expanded its services — supplying water, removing waste, providing healthcare, and reaching tens of thousands of people in need — the humanitarian needs remain overwhelming.

Unless the crisis improves, girls in particular will continue to bear the burden of survival, cooking over wood fires, fetching water, washing clothes by hand, and caring for younger siblings with little to no support.

Furthermore, many spend hours beside wood-fired stoves, inhaling smoke and risking burns before hauling heavy water containers back to their shelters, all while navigating severe trauma and the irreversible loss of their childhoods.

This is an edited translation from our Arabic edition. To read the original, click here

Article translated by Afrah Almatwari