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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
World
Thaslima Begum in Cairo

‘Life has come to a standstill’: the Palestinian refugees struggling to survive in Egypt

A family sit in a line on a red sofa.
The Shahtout family from left to right, Ahmed, 17; Nour, 19; Bassim, 57; Reem 47; and 13-year-old Muhammed, who left Tel al-Hawa in October 2023. Photograph: Hamada Elrasam/The Guardian

On the afternoon of 7 October, Nour Shahtout was busy doing her homework, when she received a text message from school, telling students not to come in the next day. She hasn’t been back since. “At the time, I thought I had the day off and could hang out with my friends,” says the 18-year-old. “Little did I know, everything was about to change.”

Two weeks later, Shahtout’s family home in Tel al-Hawa, a neighbourhood in the south of Gaza City, was bombed in an Israeli airstrike. “We had only 10 minutes to evacuate,” she recalls. “I grabbed my laptop, charger and as many books as I could fit into my bag.” Shahtout, a high-achieving student, had plans to study ICT and business at Al-Azhar University. “But the following month, the IDF destroyed that too,” she says.

The family evacuated to Khan Younis but the bombs followed. Over the next few months, they moved from one tent to the next, fled one city to the next, until they realised there was no safe place left in the Gaza Strip. After selling everything they owned to pay for their passage out, the family crossed into Egypt in March, like some 100,000 other Palestinians who have been able to get out of Gaza since the start of the conflict.

“I don’t like it here, I miss my friends and I want to go home,” says Shahtout, sitting cross-legged on a worn, blue rug in a one-bedroom apartment shared by two families. “I am stuck in this one room all day, where there is no space or privacy,” she adds. “I want to study and complete my degree but life has come to a standstill.”

The small living room serves as a bedroom for Shahtout, her parents and two brothers, with two large sofas, a table and a battered mattress leaning against one of the walls; Shahtout’s school books are piled in one corner.

Most Gazan evacuees have paid thousands of dollars in bribes to leave the besieged territory but their legal status in Egypt gives them few means of supporting themselves. Without documentation, they cannot work, or enrol their children in schools, open bank accounts or travel. Unlike in neighbouring countries, the UN has not taken responsibility for Palestinians who have reached Egypt.

Finding housing to rent has been difficult for families, who are often unable to pay deposits and say they feel a certain prejudice from Egyptian landlords. Expired 45-day visas also mean many are living in fear of being fined or arrested.

The Palestinian embassy in Egypt is seeking temporary residency permits for Gazans, which could ease conditions for them until the war is over. In an interview, Diab al-Louh, the Palestinian ambassador in Cairo, stressed that those who had recently arrived have no plans to settle in Egypt and that residency permits would be for legal and humanitarian purposes.

“We are talking about a category of people in an exceptional situation,” said al-Louh. “We have confidence that our Egyptian brothers will understand this. They have already provided a lot.”

Majdi Omran, 28, from Khan Younis, has been living in a hospital since arriving in Egypt. In February, Omran and his two brothers went out to find food for their families when their car was hit by an Israeli missile. His brothers were killed instantly. Omran lost his left leg, and his rib and lower back were severely fractured.

Omran was evacuated from Gaza two weeks later, along with his wife and four children, and taken to hospital in Cairo, where they have been ever since.

“There are days when I feel that life is no longer worth living,” says Omran, from his hospital bed. “I am grateful that my family is alive and here with me, but I have no idea how I will support them in the future.”

The hospital has provided an extra bed, where Omran’s wife and two-year-old twins sleep; the other children sleep on the floor. “We are being pressured to leave but there is nowhere for us to go,” he says. “Living here is difficult but at least there is some sense of security; outside I don’t know how we will cope.”

To address the housing crisis among displaced Palestinians, regional charity Al Amal has stepped in to raise funds to help families find suitable homes and help with rent.

Both the Shahtout and Omran families are on Al Amal’s waiting list. The charity has partnered with the Canadian agency SpotNoor to help with marketing and fundraising and has attracted volunteers from around the world. It has helped more than 200 families since March – raising more than £220,000.

On a sweltering hot afternoon in downtown Cairo, a red pickup truck blasting shaabi tunes comes to a halt. Young volunteers pile out, carrying cardboard food boxes.

Among them is Mohammad Mustafa, 20, who arrived from Ohio last month and has been helping Palestinian families move into their new homes, assembling furniture and delivering vital food packages.

He says he felt “powerless” watching the humanitarian disaster from home. “The world has become so used to Palestinians being dehumanised, we expect them to live in tents and eat from cans, although even these very basics aren’t available in Gaza right now,” Mustafa says.

At the home of Asma Muhammad, a young mother who has just found a rental flat with the help of Al Amal, the volunteers are bringing in mattresses. Muhammad’s three young children jump excitedly from one bed to another.

“This really means the world to them,” Muhammad says. “We’ve been sleeping on floors and sofas since we arrived. The kids are traumatised and miss their father. Hopefully this provides some sense of normality until things get better.” The family – from Beit Lahia, northern Gaza – arrived in Egypt in March, leaving the children’s father behind.

Later that afternoon, Hasan Hallal, who is managing the Al Amal campaign, receives a phone call. He has secured a flat for the Omran family and they can move in immediately. “This is the most fulfilling part of what we do,” he says. “It’s more than just a home, it’s a lifeline.” Rent will be covered by Al Amal until the family can get back on its feet.

“These families don’t want charity, they just want the chance to live a dignified life,” says Hallal. “We will never be able to give them back what they have lost – the least we can do is put a proper roof over their heads.”

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