Abed Al Rahman, just a boy, carried the weight of his family’s hunger as he stepped into the streets of Gaza in search of bread. He had his father’s money, but when he saw the tide of people pushing towards a food distribution site in Rafah, hunger pulled him into their flow.
Almost immediately, the site descended into chaos. Gunfire. Drones. Then in a flash, shrapnel from a tank shell ripped through his little body. When I met him at a hospital in Khan Younis – where painkillers, like food, are scarce – the 13-year-old was in agony. “I have shrapnel inside my body that they couldn’t remove,” he told me. “I am in real pain; since 6am I have been asking for a painkiller.” As he recounted the chaos, his father’s composure shattered, and tears rolled down his face. Was he going to lose his son simply because Abed Al Rahman wanted his family to eat?
