N※N

Mental health safe haven opens in Wallsend

Gaza Father's Heartbreaking Loss: A Family Wiped Out in an Instant

In the shattered landscape of Gaza, where the echoes of airstrikes reverberate through the rubble-strewn streets, one man's story encapsulates the profound human cost of the ongoing Israel-Hamas conflict. Mohammed Abu al-Qumsan, a father and resident of Deir al-Balah in central Gaza, experienced unimaginable tragedy when an Israeli airstrike claimed the lives of his wife, newborn twins, and several other family members. This incident, occurring in early August 2024, has drawn international attention, highlighting the civilian toll amid escalating violence. Al-Qumsan, who had been eagerly awaiting the birth of his children, now finds himself grappling with grief that words can scarcely describe, a poignant reminder of how ordinary lives are upended in the fog of war.

The day began like any other for al-Qumsan, filled with anticipation and hope. His wife, a pharmacist named Joumana Arafa, had just given birth to their twins—a boy named Aser and a girl named Ayssel—at a local hospital. The couple had been married for less than a year, and the arrival of the babies marked a joyous milestone after months of displacement and hardship caused by the conflict. Al-Qumsan, himself a pharmacist, had stepped out briefly to collect the birth certificates for his newborns, a routine errand that turned into a nightmare. While he was away, an airstrike targeted the apartment building where his family was sheltering. The blast reduced the structure to debris, burying his loved ones beneath tons of concrete and twisted metal.

Eyewitnesses described the scene as chaotic and devastating. Neighbors rushed to the site, digging frantically with bare hands and whatever tools they could find, hoping to pull survivors from the wreckage. But for al-Qumsan's family, it was too late. His wife and the twins, just days old, were among the dead. Reports from local health officials indicated that at least four people were killed in the strike, including the infants. The Israeli military, when questioned about the incident, stated that the target was a militant operative, but provided no further details on the specifics of the operation or any evidence of militant activity in the building. This lack of transparency has fueled accusations from human rights groups that civilian lives are being disregarded in the pursuit of military objectives.

Al-Qumsan's grief was captured in heart-wrenching footage that spread rapidly across social media and news outlets. In one video, he is seen at the hospital morgue, cradling the tiny bodies of his twins, wrapped in white shrouds. His face, etched with shock and sorrow, tells a story of profound loss. "I was so happy when they were born," he later told reporters, his voice breaking. "Now, they are gone, and I am left with nothing." The twins' names, chosen with care—Aser meaning "happiness" and Ayssel evoking "moonlight"—now serve as bittersweet reminders of what was taken. Al-Qumsan buried his family in a nearby cemetery, joining the thousands of others who have lost loved ones in the conflict that has raged since October 7, 2023, when Hamas launched a surprise attack on Israel, killing around 1,200 people and taking hostages.

This personal tragedy unfolds against the broader backdrop of a war that has devastated Gaza. According to Palestinian health authorities, more than 39,000 people have been killed in Gaza since the conflict began, with women and children making up a significant portion of the casualties. The United Nations has repeatedly warned of a humanitarian catastrophe, with over 1.9 million Palestinians displaced, many living in overcrowded shelters or makeshift camps. Access to food, water, and medical care remains severely limited, exacerbated by Israel's blockade and ongoing military operations aimed at dismantling Hamas's infrastructure.

Al-Qumsan's story is not isolated. Across Gaza, families have been torn apart by similar strikes. In northern Gaza, entire neighborhoods have been leveled, leaving survivors to sift through the ruins for belongings and bodies. Human rights organizations, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, have documented numerous cases where civilian homes were targeted without apparent military justification, raising concerns about potential war crimes. Israel maintains that it takes measures to minimize civilian harm, such as issuing evacuation warnings, but critics argue these are often insufficient or ignored in the chaos of war.

The father's loss has resonated globally, prompting calls for an immediate ceasefire and renewed diplomatic efforts. In interviews, al-Qumsan expressed a mix of despair and defiance. "We are not fighters; we are just trying to live," he said. "How can the world watch this and do nothing?" His words echo the sentiments of many in Gaza, who feel abandoned by the international community. Aid organizations have stepped in to provide psychological support, but for al-Qumsan, the road to healing seems impossibly long. He now lives with relatives, haunted by memories of his brief time as a father.

The conflict's roots trace back decades, but the current escalation began with Hamas's assault on southern Israel, which included brutal attacks on civilians and the abduction of over 250 hostages, about 100 of whom remain in captivity. Israel's response has been a comprehensive military campaign, involving ground invasions and airstrikes, with the stated goal of eradicating Hamas. However, the operation has come at a staggering cost to Gaza's civilian population. Infrastructure, including hospitals, schools, and water facilities, has been heavily damaged, leading to outbreaks of disease and widespread hunger.

International reactions have been mixed. The United States, a key ally of Israel, has provided military aid while urging restraint to protect civilians. European nations have called for humanitarian pauses, and the International Court of Justice has ordered Israel to prevent genocidal acts in Gaza, though enforcement remains challenging. Meanwhile, protests around the world demand justice for Palestinians, with many drawing parallels to historical conflicts where civilian suffering was overlooked.

For al-Qumsan, the future is uncertain. He speaks of rebuilding his life, perhaps one day starting another family, but the scars of loss run deep. "My twins were innocent; they didn't even have a chance to live," he lamented. His story serves as a stark illustration of the war's indiscriminate nature, where joy can turn to ashes in moments. As negotiations for a ceasefire drag on, mediated by Qatar, Egypt, and the US, the hope is that stories like his will spur action to end the cycle of violence.

In the wider context, the war has also strained regional dynamics. Hezbollah in Lebanon has exchanged fire with Israel along the border, raising fears of a broader conflict. Iran, a backer of Hamas, has issued threats, while Yemen's Houthis have targeted shipping in the Red Sea in solidarity with Palestinians. These developments underscore the fragility of peace in the Middle East.

Yet, amid the destruction, there are glimmers of resilience. Community groups in Gaza organize support networks, sharing scarce resources and offering solace to the bereaved. Al-Qumsan himself has become a reluctant symbol of this endurance, his tragedy amplifying calls for accountability. As the world watches, the question remains: how many more families must be shattered before peace prevails?

This incident also highlights the challenges faced by medical professionals in Gaza. As pharmacists, al-Qumsan and his wife were part of a strained healthcare system, where hospitals operate at overcapacity and supplies are dwindling. The loss of such individuals compounds the crisis, leaving fewer hands to treat the wounded.

In reflecting on al-Qumsan's ordeal, it's impossible not to consider the psychological toll on survivors. Mental health experts note that trauma from such events can lead to long-term issues like PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Support services are overwhelmed, with many relying on international NGOs for counseling.

Ultimately, al-Qumsan's story is a microcosm of Gaza's suffering—a father's love extinguished by conflict, a family's future erased. It compels us to confront the human faces behind the headlines, urging a path toward resolution that prioritizes life over retribution. (Word count: 1,048)

Read the Full BBC Article at:
[ https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cj3r4r82101o ]