Ibrahim Abu Tabikh (Abu Muhammad) May God have mercy on him and his mother What a good neighbor Goodbye, good man Please write down the names of martyrs from the Al-Karama area

إبراهيم أبوطبيخ ( ابومحمد) ش8يد پإذن الله مع والدته ونعم الجار مع السلامة يا طيب اكتبولنا أسماء ش8داء من منطقة الكرامة

Cousin Ibrahim Muhammad Abu Tabikh and his mother #martyrs To God we belong and to Him we shall return

ابن العم ابراهيم محمد ابوطبيخ ووالدته #شهداء انا لله وانا اليه راجعون

To Paradise, God willing. My aunt, Umm Ibrahim, and her only son, Ibrahim, are martyrs in the sight of God.

الي جنات الخلد بإذن الله تعالى عمتي ام ابراهيم وابنها الوحيد ابراهيم شهداء عند الله تعالى

Ibrahim Muhammad Abu Tabikh and his mother, Hayat Lashin... have been martyred today... To God we belong and to Him we shall return... May God have mercy on them and forgive them. Amen.

إبراهيم محمد ابو طبيخ وأمه حياة لاشين .... ارتقو شهد.اء اليوم .... إنا لله وإنا اليه راجعون .... الله يرحمهم ويغفرلهم اللهم امين

To God we belong and to Him we shall return. #Martyrdom of my aunt/Hayat Abdel Fattah Abu Lashin (Um Ibrahim) and her son Ibrahim Muhammad Abu Tabikh (Abu Muhammad) today, Thursday, November 2, 2023, as a result of an attack targeting a car carrying displaced people from the north to the south.

انا لله وانا اليه راجعون .. #استشهاد عمتي/حياة عبد الفتاح أبو لاشين ( ام ابراهيم ) وابنها ابراهيم محمد أبو طبيخ ( ابو محمد ) اليوم الخميس الموافق 2/11/2023 اثر استهداف سيارة كانت تقل نازحين من الشمال الي الجنوب

My patient and devout grandmother, Umm Ibrahim Abu Tabikh, is a martyr, God willing. My only uncle, my beloved older brother, Ibrahim Abu Tabikh, is a martyr, God willing. We say only what pleases God: "To God we belong, and to Him we shall return."

ستي الصابرة المحتسبة / أم إبراهيم أبوطبيخ شهيدة بإذن الله خالي الوحيد حبيبي اخويا الكبير/إبراهيم أبوطبيخ شهيد بإذن الله ولا نقول إلا ما يرضي الله إنا لله وإنا إليه راجعون …

Ibrahim Abu Tabikh and his mother are martyrs, God willing, and his sons are missing. May God have mercy on you, Abu Muhammad, and grant you His pleasure, dear one.

إبراهيم أبو طبيخ ووالدته شهدhداء بإذن الله وأبناءه مفقودين رحمة الله عليك يا أبو محمد، إلى رضوان الله يا غالي

May God have mercy on you, Abu Muhammad. Martyrdom of Ibrahim Abu Tabikh. His sons are missing.

الله يرحمك يا ابو محمد استشهاد ابراهيم أبو طبيخ وأبناءه مفقودين

To God we belong and to Him we shall return. O God, forgive them, have mercy on them, and grant them the highest Paradise. The martyrdom of our dear friend Ibrahim Abu Tabikh and his family. May God have mercy on them and grant them the highest Paradise. May God grant you a great reward and comfort you in your grief, my brother Muhammad Abu Lashin. May God strengthen your hearts and grant you patience and solace. May God have mercy on our martyrs, my aunt Hayat and my dear and beloved Abu Asif.

انا لله و انا اليه راجعون اللهم اغفر لهم و ارحمهم و اسكنهم الفردوس الاعلى من الجنة ، استشهاد الصديق الحبيب ابراهيم ابو طبيخ و عائلته ، رحمهم الله و اسكنهم الفردوس الاعلى من الجنة ، اعظم الله اجركم و احسن الله عزاءكم اخي محمد ابولاشين و ربط الله على قلوبكم و الهمكم الصبر و السلوان. الله يرحمكم شهدائنا عمتي حياة والغالي والحبيب ابوعاصف

A 48-year-old mother of six, spoke on 23 November 2023 about fleeing the Israeli bombings, staying in a displaced persons’ camp, and losing her mother and brother My husband and I lived with two of our six children in an apartment on the seventh floor of the al-Karamah Towers, in the northwestern part of Gaza City. On 7 October 2023, at 10:00 P.M., our area was heavily bombed. The entire house filled with dust and sand. We took shelter in the back room, which was relatively safe because it faced away from the blasts. My brother-in-law’s sons were also with us – ‘Abed, 29, and Muhammad, 20. We all hid in the room together for two days. The next day, the bombings intensified around our building. We realized that even if we stayed in the room, we wouldn't be safe, so we decided to leave. I’m used to leaving our house temporarily to shelter from Israeli bombings from previous wars. On 9 October 2023, we left home and went to stay with our extended family nearby, in a-Shati Refugee Camp. My husband and I and our six children stayed with them for a week. My mother, Hayat (Abu Lashin) Abu Tabikh, 67, and my brother, Ibrahim Abu Tabikh, 42, and his seven children, who also lived in our area, moved to the refugee camp a week after the war began, to stay with my sister Du’aa, 37. I saw them twice while we were in the camp. It was very dangerous in the camp, too, with non-stop bombing. At some point, the Israelis bombed a mosque near us. After a lot of discussion among us, and after the Israeli army demanded everyone evacuate south to the other side of Wadi Gaza, we all decided – my family, my mother, and my brother Ibrahim – to head to Khan Yunis, which was considered safer at the time. In the end, my mother and brother changed their minds. We didn’t have a car, and there was no public transportation, and they said they couldn't walk that distance. I tried to convince them it was very dangerous at a-Shati and that even camp residents were afraid for their lives now and had to leave. But they refused. On 15 October 2023, my husband, my children and I left a-Shati Refugee Camp at 9:00 A.M. We planned to go to Salah a-Din Street and continue from there to Khan Yunis. When we reached ‘Asqoulah Square, after four hours of walking, we sat down to rest. Fortunately, we found a car that gave us a ride from there. At 4:00 P.M., we got to a displaced persons’ camp near an UNRWA school in Khan Yunis. Thousands of people were crowded into a small space there. I was shocked by the number of displaced persons and didn't know what to do. We started looking for a corner to settle in. We found a bit of concrete floor near a flight of stairs, and someone brought us a few blankets from the UNRWA offices at the school. But then one of the people who were in charge came and told my husband and our sons that the area was for women and children only, and directed them to another area designated for men. That was the arrangement for families that didn’t have their own tent to stay in together. My husband and the boys slept on the floor for three days, without mattresses and blankets. Then friends of ours came to the camp and gave us some materials to use to build a tent for our family. It was a very light tent, and it shook with every gust of wind. After we set it up, we managed to get blankets for my husband and the boys. The conditions in the camp were catastrophic, without clean drinking water and basic public or personal hygiene. Everyone drank water from a well in the center, without even knowing whether it was potable. To go to the toilet, you had to line up for an hour or two. For a week, we didn’t taste bread. Thank God, there were good people giving out portions of food, which included canned food, but no bread. A week later, people came to the center and gave us money to buy food. I went with my children to the bakery. There was a very long line. We stood there for two hours, and then a building behind the bakery was bombed. I grabbed the kids and ran without buying bread. My children keep getting sick. They’re catching colds and suffering from severe digestive diseases because of the bad sanitation here. There was no medication at the clinic, only pain relievers. The pharmacies had no medication, either. We could barely contact my mother and brother, who stayed behind in a-Shati, because the communication networks weren’t functioning. It was very, very stressful for me. I managed to get them on the phone just once, after dozens of attempts, and spoke with both of them. I heard bombings in the background and was terrified something would happen to them. I asked them to leave the camp so they wouldn't be killed, but my mother said she couldn't walk and that “Our fate is in God's hands.” After more houses in the camp were bombed, they realized they couldn't stay there and moved to an UNRWA school nearby, hoping it would be safer. But even around the school, the bombings grew worse. On 4 November 2023, my mother, my brother and his family, my sister ‘Aishah, 32, and her husband and children, all squeezed into one car and drove to a-Shifaa Hospital, where they found other cars taking displaced persons to the camp here in Khan Yunis. That day, my husband called ‘Aishah to check on my mother and brother. While he was on the phone, I saw his eyes go red. He choked up and couldn't speak. I asked, “What happened?!” and started screaming, “What happened, tell me! What happened?!” He said, “Your mother and brother were killed.” I felt like my soul left my body. I collapsed. Everything was blurry, and I didn’t understand what was happening. I shouted, “God! Why have you taken my mother and my brother?! Why did they die and leave me alone?! They were my rock, I can't survive without them!”  Left to Righit: Ibrahim and Hayat Abu Tabikh, Ghada's brother and mother. Photo courtesy of the family Later, ‘Aishah told me that while they were driving south along the road between al-Zahraa and a-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, the road was shelled. The shrapnel hit my mother, my brother and my niece Sujud, 16, who were sitting up front next to the driver, and my nephew Ahmad, 15, who was in the back seat, in the neck. My mother and brother were killed on the spot. They were taken away in an ambulance. The injured people were driven in people’s cars. My sister-in-law already lost her mother and four of her brothers at a-Shati R.C. Now she lost her husband, too. The rest of my brother’s and sister's families managed to reach Deir al-Balah and went to stay with my sister Ghadir, 45, in her house. I had six sisters and one brother, and now I’ve lost him. My mother always worried over us and tried to protect us from harm. Now she’s gone, too. We couldn't even say goodbye. They were buried immediately, as is the custom with martyrs, without waiting for all the family to reach the funeral. I wish I could have kissed my mother and brother goodbye before they were buried. I wish I could have hugged them! My nephew Ahmad was transferred to a hospital in the United Arab Emirates, because his injury is serious. My niece Sujud is still in hospital in Deir al-Balah, with fractures and crushed bones in her arm. * Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-KurdTestimony of Thu al-Fiqar Sweirjo on the shelling of the car in which Ghada's brother and mother were killed

A 48-year-old mother of six, spoke on 23 November 2023 about fleeing the Israeli bombings, staying in a displaced persons’ camp, and losing her mother and brother My husband and I lived with two of our six children in an apartment on the seventh floor of the al-Karamah Towers, in the northwestern part of Gaza City. On 7 October 2023, at 10:00 P.M., our area was heavily bombed. The entire house filled with dust and sand. We took shelter in the back room, which was relatively safe because it faced away from the blasts. My brother-in-law’s sons were also with us – ‘Abed, 29, and Muhammad, 20. We all hid in the room together for two days. The next day, the bombings intensified around our building. We realized that even if we stayed in the room, we wouldn't be safe, so we decided to leave. I’m used to leaving our house temporarily to shelter from Israeli bombings from previous wars. On 9 October 2023, we left home and went to stay with our extended family nearby, in a-Shati Refugee Camp. My husband and I and our six children stayed with them for a week. My mother, Hayat (Abu Lashin) Abu Tabikh, 67, and my brother, Ibrahim Abu Tabikh, 42, and his seven children, who also lived in our area, moved to the refugee camp a week after the war began, to stay with my sister Du’aa, 37. I saw them twice while we were in the camp. It was very dangerous in the camp, too, with non-stop bombing. At some point, the Israelis bombed a mosque near us. After a lot of discussion among us, and after the Israeli army demanded everyone evacuate south to the other side of Wadi Gaza, we all decided – my family, my mother, and my brother Ibrahim – to head to Khan Yunis, which was considered safer at the time. In the end, my mother and brother changed their minds. We didn’t have a car, and there was no public transportation, and they said they couldn't walk that distance. I tried to convince them it was very dangerous at a-Shati and that even camp residents were afraid for their lives now and had to leave. But they refused. On 15 October 2023, my husband, my children and I left a-Shati Refugee Camp at 9:00 A.M. We planned to go to Salah a-Din Street and continue from there to Khan Yunis. When we reached ‘Asqoulah Square, after four hours of walking, we sat down to rest. Fortunately, we found a car that gave us a ride from there. At 4:00 P.M., we got to a displaced persons’ camp near an UNRWA school in Khan Yunis. Thousands of people were crowded into a small space there. I was shocked by the number of displaced persons and didn't know what to do. We started looking for a corner to settle in. We found a bit of concrete floor near a flight of stairs, and someone brought us a few blankets from the UNRWA offices at the school. But then one of the people who were in charge came and told my husband and our sons that the area was for women and children only, and directed them to another area designated for men. That was the arrangement for families that didn’t have their own tent to stay in together. My husband and the boys slept on the floor for three days, without mattresses and blankets. Then friends of ours came to the camp and gave us some materials to use to build a tent for our family. It was a very light tent, and it shook with every gust of wind. After we set it up, we managed to get blankets for my husband and the boys. The conditions in the camp were catastrophic, without clean drinking water and basic public or personal hygiene. Everyone drank water from a well in the center, without even knowing whether it was potable. To go to the toilet, you had to line up for an hour or two. For a week, we didn’t taste bread. Thank God, there were good people giving out portions of food, which included canned food, but no bread. A week later, people came to the center and gave us money to buy food. I went with my children to the bakery. There was a very long line. We stood there for two hours, and then a building behind the bakery was bombed. I grabbed the kids and ran without buying bread. My children keep getting sick. They’re catching colds and suffering from severe digestive diseases because of the bad sanitation here. There was no medication at the clinic, only pain relievers. The pharmacies had no medication, either. We could barely contact my mother and brother, who stayed behind in a-Shati, because the communication networks weren’t functioning. It was very, very stressful for me. I managed to get them on the phone just once, after dozens of attempts, and spoke with both of them. I heard bombings in the background and was terrified something would happen to them. I asked them to leave the camp so they wouldn't be killed, but my mother said she couldn't walk and that “Our fate is in God's hands.” After more houses in the camp were bombed, they realized they couldn't stay there and moved to an UNRWA school nearby, hoping it would be safer. But even around the school, the bombings grew worse. On 4 November 2023, my mother, my brother and his family, my sister ‘Aishah, 32, and her husband and children, all squeezed into one car and drove to a-Shifaa Hospital, where they found other cars taking displaced persons to the camp here in Khan Yunis. That day, my husband called ‘Aishah to check on my mother and brother. While he was on the phone, I saw his eyes go red. He choked up and couldn't speak. I asked, “What happened?!” and started screaming, “What happened, tell me! What happened?!” He said, “Your mother and brother were killed.” I felt like my soul left my body. I collapsed. Everything was blurry, and I didn’t understand what was happening. I shouted, “God! Why have you taken my mother and my brother?! Why did they die and leave me alone?! They were my rock, I can't survive without them!”  Left to Righit: Ibrahim and Hayat Abu Tabikh, Ghada's brother and mother. Photo courtesy of the family Later, ‘Aishah told me that while they were driving south along the road between al-Zahraa and a-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, the road was shelled. The shrapnel hit my mother, my brother and my niece Sujud, 16, who were sitting up front next to the driver, and my nephew Ahmad, 15, who was in the back seat, in the neck. My mother and brother were killed on the spot. They were taken away in an ambulance. The injured people were driven in people’s cars. My sister-in-law already lost her mother and four of her brothers at a-Shati R.C. Now she lost her husband, too. The rest of my brother’s and sister's families managed to reach Deir al-Balah and went to stay with my sister Ghadir, 45, in her house. I had six sisters and one brother, and now I’ve lost him. My mother always worried over us and tried to protect us from harm. Now she’s gone, too. We couldn't even say goodbye. They were buried immediately, as is the custom with martyrs, without waiting for all the family to reach the funeral. I wish I could have kissed my mother and brother goodbye before they were buried. I wish I could have hugged them! My nephew Ahmad was transferred to a hospital in the United Arab Emirates, because his injury is serious. My niece Sujud is still in hospital in Deir al-Balah, with fractures and crushed bones in her arm. * Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher Olfat al-KurdTestimony of Thu al-Fiqar Sweirjo on the shelling of the car in which Ghada's brother and mother were killed

a 60-year-old pharmacist from Gaza City, described the shelling of a car with a family fleeing south in Gaza  Every morning, at 7:30 A.M., I go to my pharmacy on al-Jalaa St. I work until midday and go home.   On Thursday, 2 November 2023, at around 1:30 P.M., I was driving home from work in my jeep along with my dog. I took a-Rashid Road and when I got to the neighborhood of a-Sheikh ‘Ajlin, I saw a horse-drawn cart with bodies next to it. I drove away quickly, and other cars overtook me on the way. After I went about two kilometers, I heard a huge blast to my left, from the east. The shock wave was so strong I thought I’d been hit, but I checked and saw I was fine.   A Mitsubishi jeep driving about 100 meters ahead of me was hit by a shell and veered right. I pulled over behind it and saw a man get out. I got out of my car and ran over to them. Inside the car, I saw some injured people and a man and a woman who were dead. I found out later they were from the Abu Tabikh family. They were covered in blood. I moved the woman and the injured children to my car. The man I first saw stepping out of the car also got in. They were very frightened and I tried to calm them down. The bodies of the man and woman stayed behind. I couldn’t take them.  I drove them to Shuhadaa al-Aqsa Hospital. On the way, the woman and the girl blacked out. I slapped the woman on the face to try and wake her, while calming the others down. Her hand was almost severed and she was bleeding badly. I tried to stop the bleeding. I was afraid she wouldn’t make it alive to the hospital.   On the way, I saw more bodies along the coastal road. There were tanks there, firing shells towards the sea, and all the cars were speeding and not slowing down. I was driving the jeep and my big dog was so scared, he sat in my lap.  I got to the hospital and dropped off the injured people. Only then, I discovered my jeep also took a hit, in the back, and the glass was shattered. I left and drove home. I was scared and exhausted when I got home. My whole body was hurting from the stress, especially the right side.   I’ll never forget that day. It was a ghastly sight.   * B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah explained that a-Rashid Road, which connects the northern Gaza Strip with Rafah in the south, is currently being used by residents fleeing south, since the military closed off Salah a-Din Road.   The Abu Tabikh family was fleeing south in the jeep. Hayat Abu Tabikh (66) and her son Ibrahim Abu Tabikh (42) were killed. The family members Sweirjo took to hospital were Hayat’s daughter Nidaa Abu Tabikh (32), who was moderately injured, and Ibrahim’s children: Muhammad (16), who was severely injured, and Sujud (15), who was injured in the hand. Travelling in the jeep were also Nidaa and Ibrahim’s cousin, Muhammad Abu Tabikh (41), and his children: Muhammad (15), Malek (13) and Adam (5), all of whom were safely removed from the jeep by other people.

a 60-year-old pharmacist from Gaza City, described the shelling of a car with a family fleeing south in Gaza  Every morning, at 7:30 A.M., I go to my pharmacy on al-Jalaa St. I work until midday and go home.   On Thursday, 2 November 2023, at around 1:30 P.M., I was driving home from work in my jeep along with my dog. I took a-Rashid Road and when I got to the neighborhood of a-Sheikh ‘Ajlin, I saw a horse-drawn cart with bodies next to it. I drove away quickly, and other cars overtook me on the way. After I went about two kilometers, I heard a huge blast to my left, from the east. The shock wave was so strong I thought I’d been hit, but I checked and saw I was fine.   A Mitsubishi jeep driving about 100 meters ahead of me was hit by a shell and veered right. I pulled over behind it and saw a man get out. I got out of my car and ran over to them. Inside the car, I saw some injured people and a man and a woman who were dead. I found out later they were from the Abu Tabikh family. They were covered in blood. I moved the woman and the injured children to my car. The man I first saw stepping out of the car also got in. They were very frightened and I tried to calm them down. The bodies of the man and woman stayed behind. I couldn’t take them.  I drove them to Shuhadaa al-Aqsa Hospital. On the way, the woman and the girl blacked out. I slapped the woman on the face to try and wake her, while calming the others down. Her hand was almost severed and she was bleeding badly. I tried to stop the bleeding. I was afraid she wouldn’t make it alive to the hospital.   On the way, I saw more bodies along the coastal road. There were tanks there, firing shells towards the sea, and all the cars were speeding and not slowing down. I was driving the jeep and my big dog was so scared, he sat in my lap.  I got to the hospital and dropped off the injured people. Only then, I discovered my jeep also took a hit, in the back, and the glass was shattered. I left and drove home. I was scared and exhausted when I got home. My whole body was hurting from the stress, especially the right side.   I’ll never forget that day. It was a ghastly sight.   * B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Sabah explained that a-Rashid Road, which connects the northern Gaza Strip with Rafah in the south, is currently being used by residents fleeing south, since the military closed off Salah a-Din Road.   The Abu Tabikh family was fleeing south in the jeep. Hayat Abu Tabikh (66) and her son Ibrahim Abu Tabikh (42) were killed. The family members Sweirjo took to hospital were Hayat’s daughter Nidaa Abu Tabikh (32), who was moderately injured, and Ibrahim’s children: Muhammad (16), who was severely injured, and Sujud (15), who was injured in the hand. Travelling in the jeep were also Nidaa and Ibrahim’s cousin, Muhammad Abu Tabikh (41), and his children: Muhammad (15), Malek (13) and Adam (5), all of whom were safely removed from the jeep by other people.

Martyrs Gaza until 2-11, South until 5-1.xlsx Martyrs Gaza until 2-11, South until 5-1.xlsx

الشهداء غزة حتى 2-11 الجنوب حتى 5-1.xlsx الشهداء غزة حتى 2-11 الجنوب حتى 5-1.xlsx