Massacre continues to take Gaza’s women | Gaza

On May 10, many flowers and many boxes of chocolates will be given as gifts to mothers in the United States, Canada and elsewhere. The greeting will be filled with joy and gratitude for the presence of the mother. Mothers wear their best clothes to spend time with their children, receive gifts and enjoy a beautiful day.

It is not surprising that many countries in the world celebrate Mother’s Day, even if it falls on different days. Motherhood is a wonderful thing, and it should be celebrated. But there is one place on Earth where they bring pain to many people.

In Gaza, where 22,000 women have been killed in two and a half years, many children fear this special day because it reminds them of unbearable pain. Many women have died and many others are seriously ill.

My real mother, Najat, who is only 46 years old, is suffering from cancer, which was diagnosed very late.

On March 21, when the Arab world celebrated their mothers, I did not say “Happy Mother’s Day” to me. Instead, I prayed in my heart that he would stay with us for just a little while. I didn’t think about celebrations; I thought about my fear of losing him.

On Mother’s Day, moms don’t wear their best clothes and don’t take us out for a special meal, smiling and looking happy. He was weak and frail.

A week before Mother’s Day, she received her third dose of high-dose chemotherapy and was bedridden for several days, unable to move and with difficulty speaking. No words in the world could have told him that he loved me that day. But I remained silent. On a day when others were celebrating their mothers, I held back my tears so as not to add to her pain.

My mother’s case is not alone. This killing has caused great suffering for the women of Gaza. And pain, suffering and death begin from the moment women enter motherhood. The number of maternal deaths during childbirth tripled during the genocide. A recent report notes that 220 Palestinian women have died in childbirth in Gaza between January and June 2025.

The famine greatly affected pregnant and lactating women, putting them and their children at risk of death and various health problems. Women were saddened to see 70,000 children suffering from malnutrition. More than 150 mothers buried their children who died of starvation.

More than 22,000 women have lost their husbands and are now forced to be mothers and fathers of their children, carrying on their backs alone the great task of survival in the midst of genocide. Many others may not have lost their husbands, but they are still the primary caregivers for injured and sick children or the elderly in their families.

Many have to live with the constant pain of the death of their children in the Israeli attack; more than 21,000 of the people who were killed in the genocide were children.

During this time, the problem of driving at home has increased because there is no water, electricity, or proper food. A life in tents without protection from hot or cold temperatures, from disease or pests, is impossible. The same is true with the death of loved ones. Even the brave women of Gaza are at the height of their powers.

No wonder so many women are sick. But Israel has also ensured that they are not getting the help they need.

The Israeli army has bombed all the hospitals in Gaza and destroyed the only oncological hospital. This has meant that not only are cancer patients and chronic diseases not receiving the right treatment, but also that, during the war, there was no way to advance the proper research that would catch the disease at an early stage.

The doctors told my mother that her cancer had been growing in her for about two years. Early detection would have made treatment easier and increased its chances.

I am truly living the worst days of my life. I’m torn between my fear of him and the need to find the strength to replace him at home. I see him breaking down every day, little by little, which breaks my heart.

I am the eldest daughter, so the responsibility of the house has fallen on my shoulders. My mother used to do everything as if she didn’t want to, as if life was going by itself. Now I have stepped into his shoes and I realize that this job is boring.

I look at my only sister, who is only three years old, and I try to reassure her that I am happy and that our mother is fine. I keep telling them that Mom’s hair will grow back long and beautiful. Every day of chemotherapy, my sister asks me, “Where did Mom go?” I took a deep breath before answering that he had gone to the doctor. It is not an easy question to answer when we are trying to remember the pain of the reality that it reveals.

I cook, clean, and take care of everyone in the house. When I’m done with the time to rest, my mind doesn’t rest. It constantly asks: “Will she recover? Every possibility that comes to my mind exhausts me and weighs heavily on my heart. This is not a temporary problem. This is my mother, and this is cancer, and this is Gaza in the middle of riots.”

We are now anxiously waiting for her operation – a total mastectomy – to be planned.

The doctors have said that my mother also needs radiation treatment, which is not available in Gaza now. He has been given medical treatment, which has not yet been approved. He is one of the 20,000 Palestinians in Gaza who are in need of an immediate, deliberately phased evacuation.

Every now and then, my mother would look at the delivery paper that confirmed her urgent need to travel and sigh deeply in sorrow. I don’t know what she’s sadder about, her illness, the mastectomy, her altered appearance, or the forbidden Rafah crossing.

I am sure that his heart cannot bear all this and that his mind will one day collapse due to all these pains. Her suffering – and that of many other Gazan women – will not be captured even in numbers. It won’t be seen – just as the killer builders intended.