During this war, I’ve witnessed horrific massacres, especially in the Shujaiya neighborhood in Gaza City, where I lived before being forcibly displaced. In July, I saw what we in Gaza call a firebelt, a barrage of consecutive missiles targeting one area.

That was one of the most difficult moments I’ve lived through.

But this past Saturday, 10 August, was equally horrendous. I was yet again a witness to another massacre perpetrated by Israel.

I was waiting for my father to go with me to fajr prayer, which takes place at dawn, around 4 am. My family and I have been displaced to the al-Daraj neighborhood of Gaza City, and we were going to the Tabaeen school to pray, like we usually do, because there is a prayer area there.

Yet my elderly father was delayed during his pre-prayer ablutions.

I heard a loud and terrifying sound, and all around, people searched for the source of the noise.

I was in shock. I knew that my friend Hassan and his brother Ali, 7, had gone to the prayer area. I called Hassan on the phone and mercifully he was alive. He said that Israel had bombed the prayer area and that he couldn’t find Ali.

My father and I went to the area to see what we could do, as I am trained as a medic. The martyrs were everywhere. There were no intact bodies; just pieces of humans. I saw the remains of children and displaced people scattered everywhere.

The scene was indescribable. We know now that Israel’s bombs killed at least 100 people.

Sounds of crying and screaming filled the area around the school, which was thick with smoke. Ambulances arrived and medics began to collect the human remains and place them in bags. We could not find Ali. Hassan asked the rescuers what he should do now and how he should inform his mother. Where did his brother go? They gave him a 35-pound bag of human remains, presumably his brother’s.

Piles of flesh were everywhere. We managed to help some of the injured and get them to the hospital.

One boy, around 16 years old, was in bad shape. His lower body had been crushed and his limbs were mangled. I carried him to the hospital myself since the ambulances were full.

His left hand was amputated, and his other wounds were deep. Fragments of a human skull were retrieved from his shattered leg bones, as were teeth and the remnants of a lower jaw.

It is difficult to even recall and describe this scene, as it surpassed what my mind and heart could endure.

My father and I transported dozens of others with severe injuries to the hospital, though many of them are likely now dead, as they waited for treatment in the hospital corridors.

Inside my mind, as it was all happening, I continued to narrate everything I saw. I was a living witness. Perhaps if my father had been quicker with his ablutions then we would also have been killed, our body parts in a pile of dismembered body parts that could not be identified.

I felt a strong desire for the whole world to know what is really going on in Gaza. Even so, what is happening cannot be described to the fullest extent, and neither the mind nor the heart can bear it.

Mustafa al-Jaro is a volunteer medic in Gaza.

Tags

• Gaza genocide
• Tabaeen school massacre
• Israeli massacre

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