Gaza doctor urges ceasefire: children endure disease, displacement amid humanitarian crisis
I remember a little girl sobbing as her mother showed me how red and white spots spread from her face to her chest. Another mother lifted her son’s clothes, revealing rashes on his body, with open sores on his wrists from scratching. A father stood his daughter on a table to show me the lesions on her calves, which emitted a putrid odor.
- 4 weeks ago
October 23, 2024
Dr. Lubna Al-Azaizeh uses a stethoscope to examine a baby lying on a table in her makeshift medical clinic in Gaza. | Photo courtesy of Dr. Lubna Al-Azaizeh
DEIR AL-BALAH, Gaza — I used to work at Kamal Adwan Hospital, specializing in intensive care, emergencies, and newborns. When Israeli tanks cut off north Gaza from the south of the besieged enclave, like most doctors, I adapted. Now, I treat patients in a tent next to my destroyed home.
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The day the bomb hit: “The situation feels miserable and exhausting”
Just days after the war began on October 7, 2023, my family and I heard a sharp whistle followed by a deafening explosion. Miraculously, the only room in our home left standing was the one we occupied. The entire upstairs lay in ruins. My children instinctively covered their heads with their little arms.
We rushed outside, surrounded by smoke and falling debris. Several family members upstairs suffered serious injuries. A suffocating weight pressed on my chest as my children stared at me in shock. We temporarily relocated to my aunt’s house, but soon returned to the one intact room amid the rubble.
Overwhelmed hospitals prioritized only the most critical cases, unable to accommodate everyone. My team and I quickly began visiting camps for displaced people, offering help to malnourished mothers and elderly individuals. We encountered widespread anemia, skin diseases, and respiratory problems caused by the famine resulting from the blockade.
Armed with bags of medicine, my team and I checked blood sugar levels, measured blood pressure, and visited families to assess their needs. Given the situation, we established a field clinic at the entrance to my ruined home and named the initiative “You Are Our Family.” Completely self-managed, the clinic provides free medical services to everyone.
We refer serious cases to hospitals, but women and girls endure particular hardships due to the lack of menstrual supplies. Some use rags or pieces of baby diapers since essential items are either unavailable or unaffordable. Many families, often with six or more children, struggle without income. Aid does not reach everyone. The situation feels miserable and exhausting.
Hygiene products and medications remain scarce in Gaza
Personal hygiene products remain scarce and expensive, a struggle I face as well. For a while, I could not provide shampoo or soap to my children because they simply were not available. The lack of hygiene, combined with the collapse of garbage collection and sewage treatment, fueled the spread of diseases like scabies, fungal infections, and other skin conditions. As doctors, we find ourselves encountering some of these conditions for the first time.
With no clean water or effective medications, infections spread. Mosquito bites worsen the situation. Communicable diseases thrive in the overcrowded conditions of displacement camps. The blockade caused a collapse in waste collection and sewage treatment, worsening the health crisis. I see Gaza’s solid waste management system crumble. Before the war, Gaza boasted two landfills. Now those sites remain inaccessible, with 10 temporary sites to replace them. Yet, hundreds of informal dumps emerged.
We see those temporary sites turn into large pools of human waste and garbage. People set up tents near the sites, creating a severe public health emergency. The tent camps now stretch for over 16 kilometers (10 miles) along Gaza’s coastline, filling beaches, vacant lots, fields, and city streets. Families dig trenches for makeshift toilets, while parents search for food and water. Children scavenge through debris for wood or cardboard to cook with. The situation worsens with 20 people per tent at times, with access to no drinking water and no electricity.
Children become the primary victims in Gaza
Some people facing water shortages wash their children with salt water from the Mediterranean. Flies swarm everywhere, and children play in sand littered with garbage. The tragedy feels overwhelming. Between the tents, people settle in cement block structures, while the lucky ones find shelter in schools, hospitals, or garages. Living with such discomforts and diseases without being at home or in a hospital devastates them.
My patients tell me they cannot describe the pain of constant displacement and losing loved ones. It destroys them mentally. With essential medicine unaffordable and international aid dwindling, we urgently call for the reopening of the Rafah border to ease the worsening humanitarian crisis. Children become the primary victims in Gaza. They dodge bombs, flee through rubble-filled streets, and lack basic necessities like food and clean water. Forced to sleep in the open, they experience unprecedented shock and pain.
This war, along with the physical and mental scars it leaves, erodes their resilience on a devastating scale. I vividly remember a mother telling me how her youngest child’s mental health completely shattered. When I work with children, I see the same pattern. They display fear, anger, and uncontrollable tears. Many adults become similarly affected. Sometimes, the weight of it all is so overwhelming that I have to step outside the tent to catch my breath before I can continue. We witness constant bombs, bullets, death, hunger, disease, and misery. My son can now identify different types of explosives by sound.
Survivor stories in Gaza often end in tragedy
Nowadays, we classify children, such as “wounded child, no surviving family.” Many survivor stories end in tragedy, like the 12-year-old girl who lost her leg, parents, and siblings in an airstrike, only to lose her life when an Israeli Army tank shelled the hospital. I recall a two-year-old boy who survived three airstrikes that killed his mother and sister.
Pregnant mothers endure immense suffering, often giving birth in tents, streets, or public toilets. Some watched their newborns die in their arms. I remember a mother who fled her home while six months pregnant, with an 18-month-old child. Her little boy became malnourished, and when I saw him, his body looked skeletal.
I remember a little girl sobbing as her mother showed me how red and white spots spread from her face to her chest. Another mother lifted her son’s clothes, revealing rashes on his body, with open sores on his wrists from scratching. A father stood his daughter on a table to show me the lesions on her calves, which emitted a putrid odor.
One recent case deeply affected me. A five-year-old boy clung to his father after being pulled from the rubble of a bombing. The boy underwent five surgeries after his brain shifted due to the blast, but he survived after CPR. His father explained they initially believed him to be dead. Despite multiple surgeries, the boy went blind and still has splinters in his body. We need his condition to improve before removing them. This five-year-old now appears fearful, no longer able to see or respond to anyone.
Gaza needs an immediate and definitive ceasefire
Cleanliness becomes impossible in the makeshift tents, leading to acute diarrhea and jaundice. One mother struggled as her children needed diapers, resorting to cloth and plastic bags. Due to the lack of hygiene products, bacterial infections spread across their bodies without available ointments.
In collapsed tents, children scratch their lesions, spreading infections to themselves and others. One child’s spots spread from his face to his body. Without available medicine, we cannot treat him. Impetigo, a common bacterial infection, can escalate into kidney failure if untreated, but creams and ointments remain scarce. Scratches become easily infected due to the surrounding dirt.
I recall one little boy crying as I applied cream to his sores. Adults suffer too. One man showed me painful sores on his feet, while a woman’s hands became raw and chapped. The creams we provide often prove ineffective without proper hygiene; conditions improve temporarily but return the next day. Flies swarm constantly, and scabies, lice, fungal, bacterial, and viral infections run rampant.
Many people’s dignity and self-esteem become deeply impacted. Feeling dirty and exposed, especially in front of others, takes a toll on them. Initially, we treated 10 people a day in the medical tent, but now we see 30 to 50 daily, working around the clock. Despite the overwhelming situation, we hold onto hope that, with the right support, the impact of this conflict can be addressed.
However, none of this will be possible without an immediate and definitive ceasefire, as well as unrestricted access to aid for humanitarian workers. Living in dignity should not be a privilege. Without a ceasefire, hope for a peaceful future will continue to erode. Change is essential, or life here will become impossible.
