Gaza doctors
5 min read
15 May, 2025

A year ago, fourth-year medical student Abdulrahman had to sell his car. Medical degrees don’t come cheap, and for many medical students around the world, selling your car sounds like a good way to free up some money. Except, Abdulrahman is no ordinary medical student – he’s from Gaza, and he sold his car a year ago to cover the cost of being evacuated across the Rafah border into Egypt, shortly before it was closed.

In Egypt, Abdulrahman lived in a small room as part of a house share, struggling to pay his monthly $100 rent and working 12-hour shifts at a pharmacy to make ends meet. He could not afford to go back to university.

Speaking to The New Arab about the challenges he faced after leaving Gaza, Abdulrahman says, “I couldn’t even afford to pay my air conditioning bill. I had a fan in my room that just moved hot air around. I was forced to appeal to people on social media for help in paying my rent. The idea of asking people online for help was painful, but I didn’t want to end up homeless.”

This is the bitter reality for hundreds of medical students and practising doctors who have had to leave Gaza out of fear for their lives.

An independent UN Commission of Inquiry in October 2024 found that the Israeli army has intentionally targeted healthcare workers and health facilities, in addition to the arbitrary arrest and detention of 250 healthcare workers.

Some of those who have been released have spoken about their experiences of torture and humiliating treatment by Israeli authorities in prison.

Things have recently improved for Abdulrahman. He managed to secure a work visa in Oman, where he now lives and works as a pharmacist. He has also resumed his medical degree with Al Azhar University, Gaza, via distance learning.

But other doctors and medical students have not been as fortunate.

Palestinian doctors who have left Gaza due to the ongoing war are finding that their qualifications and medical licenses are not recognised outside of the country.

Those living as refugees in countries such as Egypt and Turkey are struggling to find adequate accommodation, live in shared housing, and, for those fortunate enough to find work, they say they face discrimination and exploitation.

For the first six months of the war, anaesthetist Dr Yousef A. worked in an emergency department in a hospital in Gaza, where he would often be on shift for six consecutive days with little sleep. Today, he lives in South Turkey and works in a small hospital as a trainee doctor.

“In Gaza, I was anaesthetising patients while feeling like I needed to anaesthetise myself,” he shares. “I felt like I was losing control. I decided to leave Gaza; I could no longer bear the sight of blood and feeling powerless when it came to saving my patients. However, here in Turkey, my medical degree is not recognised and I am having to start from scratch.”

Dr Hanin S. managed to leave Gaza around the same time as Dr Yousef and secured a humanitarian visa to Germany, where she now lives.

A general surgeon in Gaza, Dr Hanin, now works at a nursing home while waiting to take language exams and have her diploma revalidated.

“I used to save people’s lives after airstrikes,” she says, “And now I find myself standing for hours each day serving people food and changing bandages just to make a living.”

Medical students: Dreams pending

It is not just Gaza doctors who are still trying to adapt to a new reality abroad. Medical students like Abdulrahman, who have managed to evacuate to Egypt, Jordan, Turkey and beyond, are struggling to find the means to finish their medical degrees. Many are shocked by harsh admission regulations, lengthy language exams and costly tuition fees.

Tariq S., who now lives in Turkey, works part-time as a waiter to pay his university fees. “I was top of my class in Gaza,” he says, “And now I wash dishes so that I don’t drop out of medical school.”

Fifth-year medical student, Layan S, found herself unable to complete her medical degree when her university in Gaza was partially bombed, the internet was severed, and her books and study materials were destroyed. She is now a refugee in Cairo, but without any financial means, she has yet to resume studying.

“Every day that passes and my dream of becoming a qualified doctor dies a little more,” says Layan. “I’ve sent enquiries to about 40 universities outside of Gaza about scholarships and only two replied, apologising.”

Brain drain and a healthcare system on the brink of collapse

Gaza’s losses are not just in its martyrs but also the hundreds of doctors and medical students who have left the Strip, taking with them their knowledge and expertise.

Dr Alaa A., a cardiologist who immigrated to South Africa during the war, says many Gazan doctors were already thinking about emigration before October 7 2023. The war was the catalyst for their exodus.

“For me, the idea of emigrating came before the war, due to the ongoing conflict over territory, Israel’s blockade on Gaza, previous wars and the growing internal division between Palestinian political factions. The war just cemented that,” he says.

More doctors left Gaza during the short-lived ceasefire between January 2025 and March 2025, accompanying patients across the Rafah border into Egypt.

Between doctors and medical students leaving Gaza and those martyred inside the Strip, Dr Alaa says the lack of medical professionals is pushing the remains of Gaza’s fragile healthcare systems to the brink of collapse.

“Staff shortages have forced healthcare centres and clinics in every neighbourhood to reduce operating hours or close entirely,” he says. “Without medical supervision, the health of those with chronic health conditions is deteriorating.”

Gaza’s medical exodus has left behind it a society groaning under the burden of long waiting times and a lack of primary healthcare, where hope for early detection of diseases lies.

Gaza today is not only deprived of the expertise of its doctors, but the human spirit of its healthcare system itself, appearing like a crumbling body which will be unable to resist any future epidemic or pandemic.

Haya Ahmed is a doctor and freelance writer from Gaza