Amid Israel's genocidal war, Palestinian women in Gaza experience 'endless suffering'

Sobheia al-Shawa, a 37-year-old Palestinian woman from Gaza City, never imagined she would be forced to leave her city again after returning in February to end long months of displacement in the south of the besieged enclave.

The tent she erected beside the rubble of her destroyed house in the al-Rimal neighbourhood, made from wooden poles and fabric walls, gave her a fragile sense of home. But even that was reduced to nothing when Israeli forces attacked the area and destroyed it two days ago.

"That night, I barely grabbed a small bag with a few clothes, clutched my three children, and walked," she recalled to The New Arab. "It was the hardest walk of my life."

Like thousands of others, Sobheia fled along Gaza's coastal road, once known for sea breezes but now a corridor of forced expulsion to the southern areas of the Gaza Strip. Burned-out cars, broken furniture, and abandoned belongings lay scattered across the asphalt. Children screamed for parents lost in the chaos.

"We stepped over rubble while smoke filled the sky. Behind us, houses burned. Every step felt like we were being herded, without a choice, into the unknown," Sobheia said. "We tried to mask our children’s terror with words of comfort, but their eyes betrayed unfiltered fear."

After endless hours, Sobheia reached Khan Younis. Instead of relief, new scenes of despair awaited them: streets overflowed with the displaced; pavements became shelter; exhaustion turned into hopelessness.

"I spent about 18 hours on the road, while before the war, we used to pass it in less than 30 minutes by car," she said. "I thought we'd find tents, maybe shelters. Instead, we sat on the pavement. Women used stones as pillows, cloth as blankets. That was when I realised displacement wasn't the end — it was the beginning of another tragedy."

Raghda Hasaneia, a 33-year-old woman from Gaza, described her own shock upon arrival in Khan Younis. "The squares were crowded with families huddled together. Children slept across their mothers' laps, while women searched frantically for loved ones lost along the way," she told TNA.

For Sobheia, Raghda, and thousands of other newly displaced women, nights brought new terrors. "During the day, we search for water or food," Raghda said. "At night, fear consumes us. There are no doors to close, no walls to protect us. We lie awake listening to planes, afraid of bombardment or worse."

Israel's war on Palestinian women

Since 7 October 2023, Israel has waged a war that Gaza's Ministry of Health describes as one of the worst humanitarian disasters of this century.

Rights groups and Palestinian officials say the assault amounts to genocide. More than 65,000 Palestinians have been killed and nearly 200,000 injured, the majority women and children.

The Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics (PCBS) reported that before the war, Gaza's female population numbered just over one million, more than half of them adults, shouldering the burden of caregiving.

By March 2025, over 12,000 women had been killed, while nearly 14,000 were widowed, left to raise families alone amid displacement and disease, according to the PCBS.

UN Women estimates over 28,000 women and girls have been killed since the war began, a devastating rate of one every hour. Behind each number lies an untold story: mothers lost, children orphaned, families torn apart.

"The war is annihilating Gaza's women, the backbone of our communities," Marwa al-Dahdouh, recently displaced from Gaza City to Deir al-Balah in central Gaza, told TNA.

"Every woman killed leaves behind children and families stripped of protection. Every widow bears a burden that is too heavy for one person," she said.

International humanitarian law, including the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols, places women at the heart of civilian protection, especially pregnant and nursing mothers, guaranteeing special care, healthcare, and shelter. Yet, Gaza's reality stands in stark contradiction.

"Even during our humiliating displacement journey, we found no one to help us," Marwa said. "I felt as if we were on the Day of Judgment, and no one cared about anyone."

Fear, loss, and resilience

For many displaced women, survival now means carrying double burdens. Umm Ahmed al-Haj, 40, lost her husband when their home was bombed. She now supports four children alone.

"I smile at them and say we'll be fine, but inside, I'm terrified. I'm unsure how to feed them tomorrow. We have lost homes, privacy, and even bathrooms. We sleep on the ground, exposed. Our most basic rights as women no longer exist," she told TNA.

In Khan Younis, women gather in circles, sharing stories and tears. Enas Abu Asaad, 31, said to TNA, "We have become one family here. Each woman comforts the other. But nothing replaces your home. Nothing replaces safety. We are not numbers. We are mothers who just want to see our children sleep safely."

She also expressed anger at Palestinian leaders for abandoning their people. "The situation makes everything harder, especially with no government body helping us in our displacement," she said.

"We know that Israel is a criminal state, and the United States is supporting it forever. But what about our leaders who do not care about us, about our children and our lives? All of them care about their own political goals only," she added.

"Now," Enas said, "we live in the open, waiting for the unknown."

The displacement of Gaza's women is not just a humanitarian tragedy; it is a living testimony to a war that crushes daily life. Their eyes carry a dual truth: defeat and resilience.

"We are still waiting for a glimmer of hope," she concluded. "Just a roof over our heads, just safety for our children. Until then, our stories will keep reminding the world of Gaza's endless pain."