A 33-year-old father of three from Beit Lahiya, Adham recounted being displaced, bombed, abused during his arrest by Israel, and returning home to devastation and hungerBefore the war began, I lived with my wife and our three children—Ahlam, 7, Amirah, 5, and ‘Ali, 3—in a three-story building in the Beit Lahiya Project, near Kamal Adwan Hospital. I graduated in 2014 from the Faculty of Law at al-Ummah University in the city of a-Zahra in Gaza, but I never worked as a lawyer. Because of Israel’s blockade, which has lasted 17 years, there were no job opportunities. I worked in various fields.When the war of annihilation began in early October 2023, Israel massively bombed homes with families inside, especially in the northern Gaza Strip. Despite everything, we decided to stay in our home. But in November 2023, the attacks intensified. The military was shooting at anything in sight, and we saw tanks approaching our area. That’s when we understood we had to leave.We moved to my uncle’s house in Jabalya Refugee Camp and stayed for a week. During the ceasefire that began on 20 November 2023, we returned home, but ten days later the bombings resumed. The military held Kamal Adwan Hospital, near our home, under siege, so we were forced to leave again. This time we went to Halimah a-Sa'diyeh School in the a-Nazleh area of Jabalya, which was turned into a displacement camp. We stayed there for 21 days. During that time, the military fired missiles at the school, killing nearly 15 people—mostly children. My daughter Ahlam was lightly wounded in the head by shrapnel. We were lucky she wasn’t killed.We had to move again, this time to the a-Sadrah area in a-Daraj neighborhood in Gaza City and stayed for two months in a relative’s house. After that, we moved to Zahrat al-Madaen School in a-Sheikh Radwan neighborhood in the west of Gaza City for a month. In all these places, we suffered from severe shortages of food and water. Moving from one to the other was very hard. The sounds of constant bombing followed us everywhere, and we knew people were being killed even in schools and so-called ‘safe zones.’Eventually, we returned to our home in Beit Lahiya. Then, on the evening of Tuesday, 29 October 2024, I witnessed one of the most horrific massacres of the war. The military bombed the five-story home of the Abu Naser family with about 200 people inside—some who lived there and others who were displaced. The building collapsed on top of them. We pulled out wounded people and bodies. Some were hurled onto nearby rooftops, others were completely burned. There were no ambulances or rescue teams. We buried the dead in a mass grave in Beit Lahiya’s market. Most of the bodies were torn apart. One woman was trapped under a concrete beam. At some point, we had to stop the rescue efforts because drones were firing live bullets and grenades at us. I was lightly injured. After that, we decided to split up our family so we wouldn’t all be killed in a single attack. I moved with my wife and children and some other relatives to an abandoned house nearby.During that time, the sound of massive explosions never stopped. The walls of buildings collapsed. I saw dogs and cats feeding on bodies. I tried to pull the hand of a man out of a dog’s mouth but I couldn’t. Drones fired bullets and grenades. Every night there was artillery shelling. We slept next to the stairwell, the safest part of the house. Three shells hit the house, one in the kitchen and two in the living room.On 4 November 2024, I went to drink coffee with my friend and neighbor, Muhammad Aman. We were sitting on the roof when we suddenly heard a loud explosion. I rushed to check on my family and found them alive, though slightly wounded. Moments later, Muhammad’s house was bombed. He, his wife, and their daughter vanished. Their bodies were never found. Some of the neighbors were also injured. We took them to Kamal Adwan Hospital.The next morning, Tuesday, 5 November 2024, I decided to evacuate again with my entire family. We left northern Gaza and headed to Gaza City. We took what we could carry and walked along a route the Israeli military allowed. We passed through Zayed Square, reached the Hamudah station, and then arrived at the military checkpoint east of Jabalya Refugee Camp around noon. There, soldiers called me over and ordered me to undress in front of my wife and children. It was a deeply humiliating moment. My daughter Ahlam ran over to me while I was undressing and clung to me. A soldier told me to call my wife to take her away or they would arrest both of us. My wife came and took Ahlam, who cried, “I want my dad! I want my dad!” Everyone around us was in tears.I stayed completely naked. The soldiers blindfolded me, gave me a white jumpsuit to wear, tied my hands tightly behind my back with zip ties and tied my legs. They put me in a dark room at the checkpoint. Despite the darkness, I saw it was full of detainees. Soldiers attacked us all with batons. I screamed in pain from the beatings and the tight cuffs. Every time I raised my hands to protect myself, the zip ties cut into me even more.They poured cold water on us, cursed us, and called us names: “You faggot, you Nukhba, you shit, you dirt… we’ll send you to hell.” They would say, “What’s your name?” and force us to answer, “My name is faggot.” They asked for our mothers’ names, and when we answered they said they would bring them there and rape them. They said the same about our wives. I was told my wife was in the next room and they were going to rape her.I was held in that room for 16 hours. Then they threw us onto a truck and drove us somewhere, we didn’t know where. I managed to shift my blindfold slightly and saw we were headed toward Beit Hanoun. When we got there and were taken off the truck, detainees who were already there told us we were in a place called al-Hufrah [“the pit”], near the city of Sderot [in southern Israel], northeast of Beit Hanoun.They took us down to a place where the floor had sharp bits sticking out that cut my feet. A group of female soldiers came over with plastic batons and started beating us up. An hour later, a man they said was a doctor came in. He checked the wrists of anyone who complained of bleeding, including me, took off our zip ties and replaced them with less painful ones. We asked for a drink of water, but instead they sprayed a bit into our mouths using a bottle sprayer. I think the water was dirty.The next morning around 7:00, some soldiers took me to a room and did a full body search on me. There was someone with gloves on who put a finger in my anus. Then he took the zip ties off me and put metal handcuffs on my legs and wrists. After that, they loaded me and other detainees onto a vehicle that drove away. On the way, soldiers beat me with stun gun batons, especially on my head. When we arrived, they took us out and later I learned we were in a prison called Sde Teiman. As soon as we got there, the soldiers took my cuffs off and gave me clothes that didn’t fit at all—a gray pajamas with a narrow shirt that was too tight, boxer shorts that were so small they tore when I tried to put them on, and a pair of pants that was big enough for two people. I stayed in those clothes until I was released.After I got dressed, they tied my hands behind my back with metal handcuffs and took me to a doctor. He asked if I had been tortured, and I said yes and that my back hurt terribly. He asked if I had any chronic illnesses. I said I had none.Then they took me to some room where they scanned my eye and gave me a card with my prisoner number, 090956. They said I should memorize the number because it was instead of my name. In prison you’re called by number, not by name.I was sent to Hut 4, which had about 70 detainees and 16 beds. They took off the handcuffs and then cuffed my hands in front of me, leaving the blindfold on. As soon as I entered, the detainees gave me water. I wanted to rest on a mattress, but the others said it was forbidden, and that the orders were I had to kneel on the floor without moving. I knelt on the floor. Soldiers passed by often, in short intervals, and looked at us. They appointed a man named ‘Abdallah a-Tabatibi, a medical staff member from Kamal Adwan Hospital, as our “shawish”.On the first day, I was surprised to discover they had a unit called Qam’ah [“suppression”]. They would come and throw tear gas canisters into the hut. Some detainees lost consciousness, others bled from their nose and mouth from breathing the gas. The hut had a bathroom and sink, but no water most of the time. We weren’t allowed to stay in the toilet for more than 30 seconds.Breakfast was three slices of bread with jam or labneh; lunch was three slices of bread with tuna; and dinner was three slices of bread with labneh and a cucumber or apple. That’s not even enough for a young child. When there was running water, we drank from the tap in the toilet room.During my time in the hut, the “suppression” units would come more than once a day. The occupation soldiers would burst into the hut and start beating us hard with batons all over our bodies. Then they would search us one by one, throw us on the ground, step on us with their army boots and hit us with their helmets. I was injured and bled more than once in those suppression rituals. They brought large muzzled dogs to scare us. Some dogs performed indecent acts on detainees. Once, I was taken for interrogation. The interrogator was nearly 60 and spoke fluent Arabic. He asked for my personal details, and then demanded information on where the Israeli hostages and bodies were being held in the Gaza Strip. He also offered me a bribe – to be released in exchange for intel on Hamas. Another time, they threatened to arrest my wife and do things I wouldn’t like to her, if I didn’t cooperate. Once, they threatened to insert a large pin into my penis if I didn’t cooperate. I was also confined for three days in a “disco room”—blaring nonstop music. Whoever goes in there comes out unable to hear and maintain balance.After 14 days at Sde Teiman, they transferred me to another detention center, in the Ma’ale Adumim area [likely the Anatot detention facility], where they put me in a hut. I never met a lawyer or saw a judge. Some detainees had hearings via a computer. They were tied to a chair, facing three judges on a screen, and the lawyer spoke by phone. The call would last about ten seconds. I saw that several times, because the room they sat the detainees in for the call was across from the hut I was held in.One day, they loaded me onto a vehicle and it drove off. The whole way they beat me savagely, mainly with a stun gun baton to the head. One blow left me deaf in my right ear. They also punched me in the stomach with regular batons. More than once, two soldiers lifted me by the arms and a third punched me in the stomach, chest and face while screaming “Nukhba! Nukhba! Nukhba!” It lasted until I lost consciousness. I woke up in a hut with about 100 detainees. In the beginning I hoped my hearing loss was temporary, but it wasn’t.The toilet was inside the hut. We were allowed to use it once a day. If someone asked to go again, the soldier would say, “Piss in your pants.” When we couldn’t hold it in, we really did go in our pants, so the hut always stank unbearably. There was a lot of food, but we refused to eat a lot so we wouldn’t need the toilet. We had to kneel with our heads down there, too. Sleep was permitted for just two hours a night, on our left side only. Even then, soldiers would bang on the metal to wake us or make other noises. Sometimes, they would call a detainee to the window and as soon as he came, shock him with two cables. But the worst torture was the extreme cold inside the hut.In another interrogation, again about the same subjects, I was put back in the disco room for three days in a row, until my ears bled. I had constant ringing in my ears after that. I was later told they had put me in the interrogation and disco room by mistake, and it was meant to be another detainee. I lost all hearing in both ears for four days after that. Later, I regained hearing in my left ear only.Then I was put on a bus with other detainees and taken to Ofer Prison. On the way, they beat me badly again. When we arrived and I was taken off the bus, I was greeted with more beatings with batons, rifles and bare hands before I was put in a hut. I stayed in that prison only three days, but I suffered from extreme hunger with the other detainees during those three days. We were given just one slice of plain bread. The suppression units came into the hut several times with big dogs who sniffed our bodies. Sometimes a dog would climb up and run on our backs while we were lying there, and urinate on us. Some dogs performed indecent acts on detainees over their clothing, and the detainees would try and get away from them.After the suppression raid, they would take the dogs out and then spray pepper spray into the hut through the window. That spray hurts more than anything else. It makes your eyes burn and your breathing very painful for two days. After three nights, they took me out of the hut early one morning, shaved off half my head, cuffed my hands behind me, cuffed my legs too, and put me in isolation.The following morning, they took me out of the room, put me in a vehicle and sent me back to Sde Teiman for one night. The following morning, they put me and other detainees on a bus again. On the way, the soldiers forced us to chant after them songs like “Wahad, tnen, tlate—Givati ya hayati” and “Tlate, tnen, wahad—Golani ahsan wahad,” and “Tota, tota, tota—Sinwar ibn sharmuta.”We arrived at Karem Abu Salem [Kerem Shalom] Crossing, southeast of the city of Rafah. The soldiers ordered us to thank the State of Israel for our humane treatment during our detention, and filmed us saying that. Then threatened us with weapons that if they learned any one of us had spoken to the media after getting back, “we’ll come and take him back to prison.” Then they removed the metal cuffs, gave us a bottle of water and a bottle of juice, gave me back my ID card—but not the phone or the money I had on me when I was arrested.In the end, they told us to cross into the Gaza Strip and run west without looking back. They said: “We’ll shoot anyone who turns around and looks back.” We ran for a long time inside the checkpoint area until we found Red Cross vehicles. That’s when I learned it was 12 December 2024. The Red Cross people took us by bus to the European Hospital for medical checks.After that, I contacted my family. My wife told me they were still in Gaza City. The day after the ceasefire was announced on 19 January 2025, I walked to Gaza City to meet my wife and children. I found them living in a small tent. Now, we’re still displaced. When the army pulled out of the Beit Lahiya Project, we went back and set up a simple tent to live in.Then, on 2 March 2025, the crossings were closed and food imports were banned. Goods gradually disappeared from the market, and now we can’t buy any food and there’s also no aid. At first, we ate only bread, because we had a 25-kg sack of flour. My wife would bake pita bread over a fire made from wood scraps I gathered in the streets.When the flour ran out, I started looking for food. I found a soup kitchen four km away from us, and went there every day for a plate of cooked food: beans, lentils, rice, peas or mjadarah. None of that included meat or any seasoning. The portions were tiny and not enough for the whole family, but it was our only source of nutrition. When the soup kitchen had no food, we had nothing to eat. We lived like that, hungry and thirsty, because there was also a shortage of drinking water. We ate only to quiet the gnawing hunger a bit. There was no end in sight, no sign that the hunger damaging our bodies and our children’s bodies would stop sometime.Our joy over coming home, and our hope that the war was over, was crushed very quickly. The war resumed on 18 March 2025 and we went back to a nightmare of killing, bombing, destruction and displacement. We had to leave the Beit Lahiya Project again.Now we’re living in a tent near the al-Yarmouk soccer stadium in Gaza City, in extreme poverty and hunger. We have no way of getting enough food for the children. There’s hardly any water. We don’t have any of the basics of human existence, and it’s getting worse every day. For over six weeks, no food has entered the Gaza Strip. Every day, I leave the tent and go looking for food. I look for soup kitchens that are open and in long, packed lines hoping for a plate of rice or peas or beans to share with my family. Sometimes, after a long wait, I leave empty-handed because everything is gone before my turn.A few days ago, I couldn’t find a single open soup kitchen. Many have closed down because there are no supplies to prepare food, and no money to buy them if there are supplies. Sometimes I find one or two pitas and that’s all we eat. We go to sleep hungry. We wake up hungry and terrified by bombings and the noise of aircraft. All we can do is wait for God to rescue us.* Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah on 24 April 2025