Gaza City – Hiba al-Yazji and her husband Mohammad have been through hell and back in the past two years. They have lost dozens of family members – killed in Israeli attacks. Their homes are gone. They’ve been forced into displacement multiple times. And now they’re waiting, not sure what the future will bring them and their 10-year-old daughter, Iman.

The family arrived back in northern Gaza last Saturday, a few days after the Gaza ceasefire began, but just a day before Israeli attacks threatened to collapse the deal.

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Hiba says she was sorting through her scattered belongings beside her tent when she heard explosions in the distance, and wondered whether the war had returned. That would likely force the family back south, repeating a journey they have taken again and again during the war.

“We honestly don’t understand anything any more,” Hiba told Al Jazeera days later, as she pulled up a chair and sat atop the mound of sand where her family’s tent was pitched.

Family killed

So far, the ceasefire has largely held since the heavy outbreak of violence last Sunday, when Israel killed at least 42 people.

But Hiba and Mohammad have suffered so much over the past two years that their uncertainty over the future is understandable.

The couple had stayed in northern Gaza when the war started. But less than two months into it, that decision cost them dearly.

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“I lost my entire family: my father, my mother, all my siblings. My husband, who is also my cousin, lost his entire family too,” she said, tears filling her eyes as Mohammad sat beside her in silence, his own eyes red.

On December 3, 2023, their four-storey family home in Gaza City’s Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood, which also sheltered several relatives displaced from other areas, was bombed.

Hiba, Mohammad, their daughter Iman and Hiba’s younger brother were the only survivors, pulled from beneath the rubble with minor injuries.

The strike killed 60 members of their extended family.

“Almost my entire family was wiped out: my mother, father, my six siblings, their spouses, and their children. My wife’s family, too – her parents, siblings and their children. My uncles and their families were all killed,” Mohammad said.

In total, Mohammad lost 36 relatives, including his parents, six siblings and their children and wives.

Hiba lost her parents, four siblings and two nieces in the same strike.

Trapped with a dead brother

To compound matters, Hiba’s younger brother, who survived the initial attack, was killed a month later in particularly harrowing circumstances.

Israeli tanks advanced near the home of a relative that Hiba and Mohammad had moved into after the first attack.

“We ran – me, my husband, my daughter and my brother – to a nearby house and hid in the basement. At that moment, the tanks were firing at anyone who moved. My brother was shot directly in the back.”

Hiba broke down in tears as she continued.

“We dragged my injured brother to the ground floor so the tanks wouldn’t see us, or we’d all be killed. For four whole days, my brother bled to death in front of me. I couldn’t cry, scream or move. I couldn’t call for help because the tanks surrounded us.”

Her voice trembled as she added, “His body stayed with us, beside us, for four more days while we were trapped.”

“No water, no food, nothing. But fear controlled us so completely that we couldn’t think of anything else. We were just waiting to die at any moment.”

When the tanks finally withdrew, the family left their hiding place and buried her brother’s body nearby.

“After all this, do you think we still want to live?” Hiba asked, her tears flowing freely.

Bulldozed graves

To an outsider, the losses Hiba and Mohammad have suffered are almost incomprehensible. Even with the war declared over, it is not something they can simply move on from.

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“I wanted to die,” she said. “My husband and I are like branches cut off from a tree. We live with unbearable pain. I wished a strike had taken us too. Surviving feels like a punishment.”

In September, the couple left Gaza City to go south, as Israeli tanks approached. But they found life there in the displacement camps, away from everything they knew, to be unbearable.

And with the Israeli advance on Gaza City called off as a result of the ceasefire, they decided to return.

But nothing prepared them for what they would find.

“All our family homes were destroyed, even the house we recently moved into, my wife’s family’s home, was gone. Our cars, our wedding hall business, all flattened,” said Mohammad, whose family was known for real estate in Gaza.

The couple’s greatest shock came when they discovered that the graves of their relatives, buried near their home, had been bulldozed and their remains scattered.

“Imagine spending the whole night collecting the remains of our loved ones, those we buried with our own hands,” Hiba said, pointing to a levelled patch of sand.

“Here lie my family and some of my husband’s. I keep warning people who pass by not to step over them.”

Her tears welled again. “This reopened a wound that never healed. My heart was torn apart during the war. I have no nerves left, no life. I pulled my parents out from under the rubble. My mother was without a head. My little nephew’s body was in pieces.”

“My husband still hasn’t been able to recover the rest of his family’s bodies. Their remains are still under that rubble,” she said, pointing toward a nearby collapsed building where their last tent now stands.

What comes next?

“We’re just bodies without souls now,” Mohammad said quietly. “If I stay alive, I’ll leave Gaza the moment the crossings open. There’s no life here.”

“No water, no electricity, no services, just destruction everywhere. Ruin beyond what the mind can imagine. How are we supposed to live?”

“Even this so-called ceasefire they talk about, it’s fragile and meaningless. Israel violates it every moment,” Mohammad said.

Hiba nodded in agreement. She said her only hope now is for a better future for her daughter, her last surviving family.

“My daughter hasn’t had schooling for three years. She’s lived through horrors, pulled from under the rubble, displaced again and again, watched her uncle die in front of her. How will her mind recover? What future does she have here?”

“She’s seen enough. I just want her to live a better life.”

When asked if they feared the war might return, Mohammad gave a bitter laugh.

“This time I won’t move. If it comes back, I’ll really die here. There’s no life or future left anyway. The war never really ended, and even if it did, I’d rather die with my family.”

Hiba and Mohammad often sit together, mourning their fate, unable to comprehend why all this happened.

“I keep asking my husband if we had started this war ourselves, would we deserve such punishment?” she said. “What did we ever do to deserve all this?”