Journey through Rafah into Gaza was 'humiliating' and 'terrifying' for the 12 who crossed

After hours of waiting amid bureaucracy, just twelve Palestinians [nine women and three children] were allowed by the Israelis to cross the Rafah border into Gaza for the first time in over two years. 

Some of the returnees described to The New Arab that the experience was physically exhausting and deeply demeaning.

Even in their worst nightmares, the women returning to Gaza did not imagine they would face persistent Israeli violations, believing their lack of political involvement would spare them. That assumption shaped their expectations as they waited to cross, leading many to believe that the journey home, though exhausting, would at least be free of abuse.

That was simply not true.

Treated like criminals

For Um Mohammed, a mother of three from Khan Younis, the hours spent on the Egyptian side of the crossing briefly reinforced her hopes. "In the Egyptian hall, everything was calm," she recalled to TNA. "There was no shouting or insults. We were treated with respect, given water, and allowed to rest. For the first time in years, we felt like human beings."

Children relaxed after hours of tension, and the women exchanged quiet, hopeful looks.

"I thought it was over[...] I thought maybe the road was clear," she said. 

That sense of reassurance faded as soon as the bus departed for Gaza.

"The moment we got on the bus, I felt something was wrong. No one spoke. The road was long, dark and unfamiliar," she said. 

Even those who knew the route felt disoriented as they crossed a featureless stretch of desert. The returnees' ordeal intensified upon arrival at the crossing.

Um Mohammed claimed that they were handed over directly to a militant group known as "Abu Shabab", led by Ghassan al-Dahini, who was accused of close coordination with the Israeli occupation.

"They handcuffed us and blindfolded us [...] I was with my children, and yet they treated us like criminals," she recalled. 

For nearly three hours, she and the children were held and interrogated without water or food. 

"They never asked about the crossing or our documents. All the questions were about Hamas and 7 October, and a lot of things I have no connection with, and I do not know any information about them," she continued. 

What terrified Umm Mohammed was not only the interrogation itself, but the escalating threats, as interrogators sought to force her cooperation by threatening to detain her children alongside her neighbour.

"This is completely unacceptable [...] Returning home should not be conditional on betrayal," she said. 

Despite the trauma, Um Mohammed remained resolute. "I came back because this is my home. Displacement is not the solution. They may try to control us, but I will not leave Gaza," she said.

Um Bashir, an elderly woman confined to a wheelchair, described a similar ordeal. She had left Gaza for medical treatment after injuries sustained in the war, expecting a brief absence. Instead, she had been stranded in Egypt for over a year and a half, carrying the grief of losing a son to Israeli bombing.

"After the interrogation, two men from al-Dahini's group and a woman came to take me," she recalled to TNA. "They grabbed my hands and said they were handing me over. My eyes were still blindfolded, and I had no idea to whom I was being handed."

She later realised she was being delivered directly to the Israeli army.

"They handed me over as if I were an object," she said. "No one asked about my chair, my health, nothing."

The removal of the blindfold during the subsequent interrogation intensified her vulnerability. "The light was blinding. Soldiers surrounded me, weapons in hand, eyes cold. I felt exposed and powerless," Um Bashir described.

The interrogation lasted hours. No consideration was given to her age, her illness, or her exhaustion. Even when the blindfold was removed, the handcuffs remained. "I could see everything but do nothing," she remarked.

Um Bashir emphasises that despite the fear, humiliation, and exhaustion, returning to Gaza was her only option.

"We have no choice but Gaza," she added.

A tool of leverage

Only twelve Palestinians—women and children—returned to Gaza through Rafah, while eight patients and ten companions left for medical treatment in Egypt, the first such movement in over 18 months.

Around 80,000 Palestinians remain stranded in Egypt.

Plans had originally called for 50 injured Palestinians to leave Gaza in exchange for 50 stranded, but Israeli authorities approved only eight departures, Palestinian officials said.

On Monday, Rafah officially resumed operations for the first time in over a year and a half, following a limited trial run on Sunday, as part of the second phase of the ceasefire between Israel and Hamas.

An informed source said movement remains slow due to organisational and security measures.

Since Israel seized control of Rafah in May 2024, Gaza has been largely isolated, worsening a humanitarian crisis where access to medical care, family reunification, and basic goods depends on an unpredictable border.

Political analysts said the treatment of returnees at Rafah is neither arbitrary nor the result of isolated security measures, but part of a broader Israeli strategy aimed at control, deterrence and intelligence-gathering, even during a declared ceasefire.

Political analyst Hussam al-Dajani told TNA that Israel views border crossings not as humanitarian corridors, but as tools of leverage.

"Israel deals with the ceasefire as a security arrangement, not a humanitarian or political commitment," al-Dajani said. "From its perspective, every Palestinian movement is an opportunity for intelligence collection, pressure and intimidation."

According to al-Dajani, interrogating civilians, including women, the elderly and patients, serves a dual purpose.

"First, it reinforces the message that no Palestinian is outside Israel’s control, even during a ceasefire," he explained. "Second, it seeks to extract information, create fear, and weaken social cohesion by turning return into an ordeal rather than a right."

Another Gaza-based analyst, Ahed Ferwana, said the handovers and interrogations described by returnees constitute a clear violation of the ceasefire’s spirit, if not its explicit clauses.

"The ceasefire agreement's second phase was supposed to ease civilian movement, especially for medical cases and stranded Palestinians," Ferwana said. "What we are seeing instead is the militarisation of return, where civilians are treated as suspects."

Ferwana stressed that using local armed groups as intermediaries only deepens the violation.

"When Israel relies on local proxies to detain and hand over civilians, it creates a grey zone of responsibility," he said. "But legally and politically, Israel remains the occupying power and bears full responsibility."

Ceasefire in name only

Analysts argue that the events at Rafah expose a fundamental contradiction in the ceasefire itself.

"This is a ceasefire that halted large-scale bombing, but it did not end control," Mohammed Yasin, a Gaza-based political analyst, told TNA, saying. "Israel continues to manage Gaza through borders, permits, interrogations and fear."

He added that allowing only a symbolic number of returnees during the second phase was deliberate.

"Permitting twelve people to return after two years is not a humanitarian gesture," he said. "It is a message: Gaza remains under siege, and movement remains conditional on submission."

For the women who crossed Rafah hoping to return home with dignity, that message was delivered with handcuffs, blindfolds and hours of interrogation.

And for tens of thousands still stranded outside Gaza, the reopening of the crossing, even under a ceasefire, has so far offered little more than another reminder that return, like survival, remains tightly controlled.