Rina has already lost her husband, Omar, to an Israeli airstrike. Now she fears their baby son, Ahmed, could die from disease or cold, in the freezing tent by the Egyptian border that has become her fifth shelter in as many weeks.
After Omar died in October, Rina’s breast milk dried up. In the weeks since, the only constant in her life has been the ever more challenging search for formula and clean water to keep her only child alive as they flee across Gaza.
Weeks of bombing and siege have turned the enclave into a wasteland of hungry refugees, stalked by disease. Now Israel is expanding its ground war south, even allies have warned that a humanitarian catastrophe looms.
The US vice-president, Kamala Harris, said at the weekend “too many innocent Palestinians have been killed”, while the UK opposition leader, Keir Starmer, warned Israel against waging a war in southern Gaza that was as bloody as its campaign in the north.
More than 15,900 people have been killed in Gaza since the war began, mostly women and children, according to health authorities under the Hamas-run government.
But tanks are moving into position around Khan Younis city and days of intense airstrikes have followed leaflets warning civilians to leave.
Rina, originally from north Gaza, was among those who decided to take to the road again.
“When we reached Khan Younis, I hoped to find a semblance of safety, or at least an end to the incessant sound of Israeli bombing that terrorised my infant son. Unfortunately, the bombing continued relentlessly,” she said.
“We sought refuge in a house with more than 60 other displaced people. Water, electricity, and communication services were completely cut off.”
Each move has brought worse conditions and more overcrowding in the shrinking corners of Gaza that Israel says are safe for civilians.
“In Rafah, we found only tents that are unsuitable for human habitation,” Rina said of their latest stop in a two-month odyssey of displacement. “There are no proper bathroom facilities, and the number of displaced people is overwhelming. Epidemics are spreading, and the conditions are harsh, with extreme cold and inadequate belongings.”
The UN estimates that about four in five of the population are displaced, and says the trickle of aid reaching Gaza is not enough to cover even basic emergency needs.
The World Health Organization said on Tuesday that the situation was getting worse “by the hour”, and the UN humanitarian coordinator for occupied Palestinian territory warned “an even more hellish scenario is about to unfold”.
Two months ago, Rina lived in Beit Lahiya, one of the northernmost settlements in Gaza. She, Omar and Ahmed left their home in the early days of the war, moving first to stay with Rina’s mum in another part of Beit Lahiya, that they hoped would be slightly safer, then shifting again to her sister’s, and then her grandfather’s home.
On 17 October, Omar was looking for supplies for the family when a missile hit nearby. Shrapnel from the explosion ended his life and ripped Rina’s apart.
“I cannot comprehend the loss of my husband. Omar was my life, and losing him feels like losing my entire existence. I wished I had died with him,” Rina said. “After his death, my emotional state deteriorated, and I could no longer breastfeed Ahmed.”
In October, the family ignored Israeli warnings that civilians should leave the north, because they felt they had nowhere to go. Shelters in the south were overcrowded and there were attacks there, too.
There are no entirely safe places in Gaza, no choices that guarantee protection, so civilians can only weigh up different risks of airstrikes and shootings against access to food and clean water and toilets and a place to sleep.
But, as fighting intensified in the north, the family realised they would not have access to even basic medical care. Two of Rina’s brothers-in-law were injured when an Israeli raid targeted a nearby house.
“One suffered a head wound; the other had an injury to his ear,” she said. “Despite their severe pain, the ambulance crews couldn’t reach us.”
When a ceasefire was agreed, they decided to leave. Rina walked out on the fourth day of the truce, carrying her son and little else, heading for Khan Younis.
She hoped an overcrowded shelter would offer some protection for her baby, but on 1 December Israel dropped leaflets ordering them to move again.
The leaflets had a QR code linking to a map of Gaza, divided into hundreds of numbered blocks for evacuation orders, although power outages and regular communications blackouts make internet access unreliable.
When Rina finally managed to get online, and saw the map, “a sense of horror engulfed us, beyond words”. They left soon after for Rafah, trading even worse conditions for less intense bombings, though Israeli airstrikes land here, too.
She tries not to think about what would happen to Ahmed if the bombs that killed his father also take his mother. “I cannot fathom the idea that my son might grow up as an orphan,” she said. “He is innocent and does not deserve this suffering and pain.”
