Sarah Bseiso: A Gaza survivor’s account of the burns, loss and healing endured during Israel’s genocide

Sarah Bseiso was 17 when she was severely burned during Israel's genocide in Gaza in 2023.

She arrived in the United States (US) for treatment about a year and a half ago and, with support from Heal Palestine, now lives in New Jersey with her mother and sister, having since undergone a large number of operations.

Before the genocide, she was in her final year of secondary school and remembers the moment Israeli violence reached her family home as unlike anything she had experienced before.

"It was not like any other war we had known before," she recalled.

Sarah was inside her grandfather's house when she heard drones and Israeli aircraft around them. Her brothers Ahmad and Hamoud were outside, and when Ahmad called to say that Hamoud was scared, she went outside to calm him down and hugged him. On their way back to the house, she felt something hit her.

"I felt something very hot hit me and push me several steps forward. Then the kitchen caught fire completely, and the flames began burning everything," she explained.

She continued, "While I was trying to understand what was happening, I noticed that my leather shoe had burnt, as had my feet and my medical glasses. I don't know why I forgot that Hamoud was with me and that we were inside the flames." 

In sharing this, Sarah noted that she initially thought Ahmad had pulled Hamoud away, before realising that the fire had come from Ahmad’s side and the missile had left his whole body “riddled with holes.”

As she screamed, her father pulled her from the fire, but both of her brothers, Ahmad, 16, and Hamoud, eight, died in the attack, with Ahmad dying immediately and Hamoud succumbing days later to his injuries, fourth-degree burns and smoke inhalation.

Sarah recalls hearing Hamoud's voice and moans from a nearby room while she was suffering from her own burns. No one was able to help him because of the extent of his injuries, the siege and the bombardment.

Her father risked his life under bombardment to take her to a nearby hospital, where doctors gave her fluids to replace some of what she had lost, but they were unable to provide the treatment she needed.

As Sarah explained, “Treatment and medication were unavailable, and the hospital was under siege.”

Sarah eventually travelled to the US as part of a medical evacuation via Egypt, where she stayed briefly. She spent her first three and a half months in intensive care and underwent numerous operations.

"I don't know how many operations there were. Work is still being done to restore my skin, and the movement of my fingers is limited. Some of the operations are to improve the skin," she told The New Arab.

The pain of healing

After a year and a half of treatment, Sarah's recovery remains ongoing. Alongside the physical effects of her injuries, she has had to deal with the deaths of her brothers, the loss of her home and the separation of her family.

She recalls how the Israeli army took over their home for a period, in addition to targeting it. Family members were also dispersed outside Gaza, while the uncertainty of not knowing whether she could reach relatives in the territory remained difficult.

"It is a difficult matter, especially when the internet goes down in Gaza, and we are unable to communicate with them. Every report about a bombing in an area causes a lot of terror, because the media does not specify the details exactly, leaving a lot of speculation and fear about the fate of loved ones," she explained.

Despite those difficulties, Sarah says her physical condition has improved since she arrived in the US. When she first arrived, she was unable to move parts of her face and body and spent her first weeks in intensive care.

"When I arrived, the condition of my face was critical, and I could not move my mouth, neck or joints, but now I am better able to move them," she explained. "In the first weeks, I was in intensive care, and the situation was very difficult. I felt lonely even though I do not have a problem communicating in English."

The adjustment was difficult because she felt separated from the people and surroundings she knew. The nurses who cared for her, however, helped her through those first days.

"I felt that the people around me were not like me, that I did not belong to them and that I did not know them. I felt suffocated in the first days, but I received the affection of the nurses," she recalled.

Physical therapy brought its own challenges, with Sarah describing some sessions as extremely painful. Her therapists and medical staff sometimes used music and dance during treatment, which she remembers fondly.

"I sometimes feel severe pain during physical therapy, as if my whole body is going to tear apart. Sometimes the therapist would stop, and treatment would begin through dance and music, and the staff would join us. I loved them very much," she explained.

The repeated operations also left Sarah afraid that she might die during treatment.

"At first, I was overcome by a strong feeling of fear, in addition to the operations, and I was afraid of dying under the weight of these operations," she recalled.

On one occasion, the pain became so overwhelming that Sarah told a therapist she would not have escaped the fire if she had known what the treatment would be like.

"I once swore in front of one of the therapists, essentially saying that if I had known the pain during the treatment period would be like this, I would not have left the fire," she explained.

The comment frightened the therapist, who requested a psychologist, believing that Sarah might harm herself. Heal Palestine did the same.

Gaza beyond the genocide

For Sarah, however, the difficulties of adjusting to life in the US have also been tied to how she feels Gaza and Palestinians are viewed. She says Gaza was not defined by the genocide, but by the community she experienced there.

"We are not beggars or a charity project. We are not hungry either. Our circumstances were imposed on us," she said.

When Sarah remembers Gaza, she focuses on the sense of safety she felt there and the people who would help her when she got lost.

"Gaza was a beautiful city. I did not feel afraid in Gaza. For example, I have a problem with directions, and I would always get lost and find my way because someone was always there to help," she explained.

That sense of connection extended beyond the people she knew personally.

"I felt that everyone in the street belonged to me, and that no matter how lost I became, there was no reason to be afraid in Gaza," she continued.

That being said, living in the US has not given her the same sense of belonging, despite having lived there for around a year and a half.

"Here, I have been walking down the same street for a year, but I don't feel there is anything there that I belong to," she reflected.

"Gaza was a city that spread its goodness and blessings to everyone, although the circumstances we went through were difficult, and anyone could go through them," she added.

A glimpse of life before

Sarah is now also thinking about what she might do after her treatment. She does not know what she had planned to study, but, coming from a family with many doctors, she would probably have pursued medicine, although she expects her treatment to continue for another year or a year and a half before she can prepare for the required exams and decide on her specialisation based on her grades.

Outside the hospital, moments such as a Heal Palestine camp last summer have helped her reconnect with parts of her life before the injury. She remembers the camp as wonderful because she was surrounded by Palestinians who understood what she had been through.

"We were surrounded by nature and under the shade of trees, alongside Palestinians from Gaza and from different areas who understood what I had been through. During that period, I was able to sleep without any problems," she recalled.

One of the activities at the camp was particularly meaningful because it reminded Sarah of her childhood in Gaza: horse riding. Her father had trained her and her brothers to ride Arab horses from a young age and would challenge them to discover their skills.

"The summer camp was the first opportunity to ride a horse since the incident, and my feelings were indescribable," she said.

She was initially afraid because she had to hold the reins with both hands, knowing that she could not fully move her left hand. She worried that she would lose control of the horse, but she succeeded.

Gaza's patients left waiting

Sarah's story comes as thousands of other Palestinians in Gaza continue to need medical treatment outside the territory.

The latest data from the World Health Organisation indicates that more than 18,000 Palestinian patients and wounded people in Gaza still need medical evacuation, while Israel refuses to grant entry visas to many foreign doctors or doctors of Palestinian origin who want to enter to assist.

One of them is US doctor of Palestinian origin Thaer Ahmad, who has entered Gaza several times before and after the genocide, while on other occasions he was prevented from entering. Ahmad has also spoken about the decision by US President Donald Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio in August to halt medical evacuation visas from Gaza to the US.

In an exclusive interview with The New Arab, Ahmad described the decision as one that would have serious consequences for children who need specialist treatment.

"The decision to halt humanitarian visas for children from Gaza will follow the secretary of state throughout his professional career," he said.

Ahmad has met children who were previously evacuated to the US, including some who were taken to Dallas and Chicago. He pointed to the number of children received by the US compared with other countries in the region.

"Some had previously been evacuated to Dallas and Chicago, and I met many of them. What is striking is that the US received fewer than 80 children, while we hear about other countries in the region receiving more than 2,000 cases, even though the US has specialist doctors capable of helping these children with their injuries, while most of these specialisations are not available around the world," he explained.

Ahmad added that the decision had closed a route for Palestinian families seeking treatment in the US, many of whom, he argued, did not intend to remain in the country.

"The US government decided to close these doors. It is a catastrophic decision in every sense of the word, especially since Palestinian families who come to the US for treatment do not intend to stay," he said.

He also referred to one case he had worked on in which a patient had already returned.

“One of the cases I worked on has already returned, while the family members are living in Egypt, waiting for the borders to open so they can reunite with their families,” Ahmad noted, adding that medical evacuations did not place an unreasonable burden on the US healthcare system.

"Taxpayers' money is not being spent on the children. We did not receive thousands of children, so we could say this puts pressure on our healthcare system, especially since our hospital systems are capable of accommodating them," he explained.

For Ahmad, the issue remains what happens to Palestinians who have travelled abroad for treatment and want to return to their families.

"These people want to return. It is strange. The decision was taken for political reasons, but it is also a very inhumane and tragic decision," he concluded.

Article translated from Arabic by Afrah Almatwari. To read the original, click here.