As Israel orders evacuations in Gaza City, Palestinians have nowhere safe to go

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The drones fly at very low altitude above people’s homes with a constant buzzing noise that causes headaches. A recording announces that the people of Gaza City should leave for “your personal benefit.”

My older brother, Abdullah Jaber, 72, asked the question on everyone’s mind: “If they come back to occupy Gaza, where will we go?”

Israel occupied Gaza from 1967 to 2005. It is like history is repeating itself.

Now, residents of Gaza City have been ordered to evacuate their homes and head south as part of a military plan, approved Wednesday by Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz, to capture all of the city and forcibly displace its residents – around 700,000 people. By the end of the week, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s cabinet is expected to approve the military plan too.

In anticipation of the offensive to come, thousands of men, women and children have been leaving Gaza City and its surrounding areas in recent days. But they don’t know where to go. Everyone knows no place in Gaza is truly safe, yet they keep moving because life in Gaza today means moving, even without hope.

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I received a phone call from Salsabeel Jaber, a relative who lives in Al Nasr, a neighbourhood of Gaza City, asking if I could help her find a place to rent – a small apartment or even one room – where she could stay with her elderly mother. This was not the first time they had to leave their home. At the beginning of the war in 2023, they fled on foot from their house. Her mother is at least 75 years old, and walking long distances under bombing was extremely difficult.

“I just want a quiet room where my mother can sleep without fear,” Salsabeel said. Her voice was tired, full of stress and worry. I didn’t know what to say. It’s nearly impossible to find a place to rent in Gaza, and if one is available, the price is very high. A tent is not an option because of her mother’s health.

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Most people I know are already hosting other families. Homes are overcrowded, with some having three or four families inside. Salsabeel’s phone call stayed on my mind all day. Her story reflects the struggle of thousands who are still looking for a safe place to rest and feel human again.

After speaking to Salsabeel, news spread that Israeli forces were advancing toward the Al Zeitoun neighbourhood in eastern Gaza. In preparation for the new offensive, Israeli soldiers have been attacking the Al Zeitoun and Jabalia areas with air strikes. They are also demolishing homes. Heavy bombing echoed even in Bureij, where I live, which is about 15 kilometres away from the fighting.

Part of Israel’s plan includes establishing so-called “humanitarian zones” in the south and isolating Gaza City from the rest of the Strip.

The stated aim of Mr. Netanyahu is to remove Hamas from power and later hand control of Gaza to Arab authorities, although it is not known which countries would participate. For Gaza residents, however, this represents a new wave of displacement and suffering.

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This fear is what drove Mohamed Abdel Ati, 45, to flee with his family from Al Zeitoun a few days ago. Today, they live in a tent in Al Mawassi, west of Khan Younis.

“The bombing became unbearable,” he said. “Every night the children cried. We left the house because we had no choice – either stay and risk being buried under rubble, or move south and try to survive.”

The small tent houses six people but offers barely any protection. “It’s crowded, no privacy, no comfort. But what can we do? There’s nowhere else.”

The hardest part, he says, is uncertainty. “The greatest pain is leaving your home and memories, without knowing if you’ll ever return.”

In Deir al Balah, I met Nour Khaled, a mother of two who left her home in Al Rimal, Gaza City, after repeated military warnings. She now shares a small room with another family.

“The first time we fled, we walked on foot – me, my husband and the kids – and left everything behind. It felt like an earthquake,” Ms. Khaled recalled.

“This time, I couldn’t risk waiting for the bombing to reach our area. I left early, taking what I could. There’s no safety, neither here nor anywhere else. But at least I can try to protect my children from the shock of running from bombs again.”

Her new room barely provides what’s needed for basic living conditions. “Water is limited, privacy is non-existent, and the bathroom is shared. But it’s better than the street. The main thing is that my children are with me –that’s the only blessing I have left.”

For many, fleeing is not about safety but avoiding immediate death.