After a difficult night in which I was injured, I put on my journalistic shield once again and mustered my strength to continue covering the news! Neither the occupation nor the world will believe our insistence on our message, because we understand its importance. We cannot sit back and rest while our people are being exterminated. In recent days, this shield has become like my shirt, one I can't take off.

At twenty-three, young people think about graduating, about a first job, about a small home. Hossam Shabat was thinking about how to word his last message. A son of Beit Hanoun, in the far north, where Gaza begins and where the ruin began. He did not leave. For eighteen months he moved between Jabalia, Beit Lahia and Beit Hanoun, sleeping wherever he could, eating whatever there was, and sending the world word of what was happening in a place that was meant to be erased without witnesses. He wrote his message and left it with people he trusted. He opened it, in effect: if you are reading this, I have been killed. In it he said he had documented what happened in the north minute by minute, and that he did so because he believed the truth was worth it. A young man at the start of his life writes his own obituary by hand — then gets up to finish the working day On 24 March 2025 his car was bombed. On the same day, in Khan Younis to the south, another colleague, Mohammed Mansour, was killed. Two journalists in one day, one at the top of the Strip and one at its far end — as though the message were that the word has no safe place, from north to south. Hossam did not ask in his message to be elegised. He asked that people not stop talking about Gaza. It is the cheapest thing that could be asked of a whole nation — and, it seems, the heaviest it has to carry.

Read full testimony Show less Hossam was more than just my brother. He was my brother, my friend, my teacher. Hossam was everything to me. Hossam had been teaching me photography for a long time. Even before the war, he was teaching me photography, design, and how to edit [videos]. Hossam was, honestly, everything a brother should be. Hossam, may God have mercy on him, was a loyal friend. I mean, he was a loyal friend to me. He was the apple of my eye. Even in our own home, Hossam was the life and soul of the house. His laughter filled the house. Hossam was the life of every party we had. If we had some kind of celebration or gathering, Hossam was always the one keeping it going. I even remember during the ceasefire, when we had a power outage, Hossam came and fixed it. And even though he got himself electrocuted, he insisted on fixing the problem. Hossam was always first to help. He was always doing good deeds. Whenever he had money… I’ll never forget this one story: It was during the ceasefire, and we were walking through Beit Hanoun. He was so generous, mashallah, handing out money to everyone, giving to the people. Hossam used to document his life. Sometimes he would photograph trees, and he would also photograph events like, for example, Tawjihi graduations and college graduations. He would go to those events. Hossam was naturally talented. He was gifted. When Hossam was 16, he was already out photographing the funerals of martyrs. During previous wars, Hossam would go to photograph our martyrs. He was still a child, about 15 or 16 years old. He was a child. He would go out and take photographs. Even before the war, the [Israeli] army had posted about him online. There was an attack or a threat against a house they were going to bomb. They totally destroyed a house while Hossam was standing across from it, only about 10 meters away. The occupation army posted about him that day. Hossam’s dream was always journalism. His passion was journalism. Hossam also used to mediate between families. If there was a dispute between families, Hossam would go and help resolve the problem. Whenever there was a problem, even within our own family or with other families, he would take it upon himself to go and resolve it. Hossam was wise beyond his years, way wiser. Hossam was wise beyond his years. And whenever there was a disagreement or a family event or matter within the extended family, he would take the initiative to go, get involved, and talk to people. Even with the municipal council — for example, there was a municipal council. Hossam was 21 years old when he joined the council. The council was supposed to be a youth council connected to the municipality, and he was one of its youngest members. He was the youngest member of the council, and of course this was something we were proud of, that Hossam was the youngest member of a municipal council. Hossam had lots of other accomplishments. When it comes to media, there was a media outlet in Beit Hanoun where Hossam worked. He was acting as the director, he was essentially directing media in Beit Hanoun. Hossam was encouraged by a friend he had, Bassam. Bassam was Hossam’s friend. When [Hossam] was a child, [Bassam] handed him a camera and taught him how to use it, and taught him the basics of photography and editing. Then he went on to college, the University of Palestine. From there, he joined the university’s media department, and then he just kept moving forward. Hossam loves Palestine. For Hossam, Palestine was everything. I’ve never seen or met anyone like my brother Hossam. My brother Hossam… He loved the land of Palestine, Al-Aqsa Mosque especially. Whenever there were raids on Al-Aqsa Mosque, his blood would boil. Hossam was truly Palestinian. His blood would get hotter than anything, to the point that there were times he wouldn’t sleep for days during the raids on Al-Aqsa Mosque. Every single day. There were times when he would go seven days without sleeping. Seven days without sleeping. He would just keep on chasing the story. And he had also been an activist before. He had a Telegram page. Something happened? What happened? And he would post about it. His heart always burned for Al-Aqsa Mosque, and he would always support the West Bank, and peaceful demonstrations. He loved our homeland. I mean, he was also brave. He wasn’t afraid of anyone. He would write and write. He would speak the truth, he wasn’t afraid of anyone. Hossam — first of all, the very first thing he did on October 7th, he left the house. He said, “I’m a journalist, and I want to report.” He was posting on [social media] platforms. And of course, he went to Beit Hanoun Hospital. Then, on the second day, our house was bombed, and we left. Hossam persisted and remained at the hospital. He would go out and document the destruction of the hospital. Beit Hanoun… was forcibly evacuated during every war, you know. Even during the smaller escalations, Beit Hanoun would be evacuated, because it’s near the border. So Hossam remained in the town while the rest of us gradually left. We went to Nuseirat. Hossam, of course, remained steadfast in the North. He went to the Indonesian Hospital. He documented the massacres and posted them on social media. After that, different news channels began reaching out to him. My brother Hossam would go out at night, he was so brave. Hossam… I mean, there were days in the North when even the ambulances wouldn’t go out. The ambulance crews themselves were afraid to go out. There were ambulances available, but they wouldn’t go out at all. But Hossam — why not? — he’d just go. Hossam was so brave that he would transport the wounded himself. He wasn’t just a journalist. It was Hossam as a human being who got in that jeep with the wounded and took them to the hospital. During this time, he connected with Al Jazeera and started filming for them. Gradually, alhamdulillah, he became a correspondent. And he signed a contract with Al Jazeera. Of course, that also put him in danger. There was another incident. My brother Hossam, may God have mercy on him, went with the Civil Defense to places that had just been bombed. While he was there with them, the house was struck a second time. A piece of rubble fell on my brother’s back, and a Civil Defense worker was killed. Several people were wounded. I will never forget that incident because, afterward, my brother Hossam suffered from such excruciating pain. My brother Hossam, may God have mercy on him, was martyred while his back was still hurting from that attack. One day, Hossam was in the North. My brother Hossam was at the site of an attack. Hossam went to the site of an attack to report on it. As he was going to report on what had happened, a quadcopter came and fired directly at Hossam’s jeep. That day, Hossam miraculously survived. That time, it was clear that the attack on the jeep was directed at my brother Hossam. My brother Hossam was being targeted, and of course, the threats against Hossam were insanely serious. He was threatened more than once. During the days when the calls from Avichay Adraee [the former head of the occupation’s Arab media division] were happening, he [Adraee] called my brother Hossam, and threatened Hossam directly. And when the occupation publicly threatened six people, my brother Hossam was one of them, may God have mercy on him, and Anas al-Sharif, may God have mercy on him. We were sitting there one day, and God knows, I mean… Of course, every day we were worried about Hossam, because Hossam would go to dangerous places. One day, the Israeli army spokesperson published a post, and my brother Hossam was included in that post. It contained a direct and public threat against Hossam, may God have mercy on him, and Anas al-Sharif. I mean, I was stunned. That level of shamelessness, in front of the entire world. To that extent? I mean, in front of the world, a journalist was being threatened, his only crime being that he was a journalist. That was his only crime: He was a journalist showing the world what was happening. So our mother became exhausted. She was beyond distressed and terrified because her son could be martyred at any moment. She was exhausted, and she collapsed from all the crying. That day, we tried to make things a little easier for her. As for me, I had already entrusted Hossam to God. I knew that after [the occupation army’s] post, Hossam could be martyred at any moment. I was not even one percent sure I would ever see him again. Even my mother told him that day, “Please, be careful. Let us see you again.” Those words of hers spread far and wide. We were extremely afraid for Hossam. I mean, there wasn’t a single day when we weren’t worried about him. Whenever there was an attack or anything in the news, Hossam would call us first. There was something between us, like a code word, I mean. One ring from him — that meant he was okay, so we wouldn’t have to call him. But if the phone kept ringing — something had gone wrong. That meant something bad happened to Hossam. That’s what our life had become. Life went on. We had returned from the South. We had been in the South and came back — Hossam, of course, was the one who welcomed us. The first people he embraced were our younger brothers. I was in the South with my family, and he welcomed my brothers. Of course, and this is something just for you about Hossam: Hossam was easily moved to tears. He would break down on the spot — burning inside, crying. But he would try to hold it back on-screen or on social media. He was brave, really brave, but, inside, he was like a child. To be honest, Hossam was very, very sensitive. He loved life. He wanted the best for people. We left the South along with Hossam. He cried so much when he was reunited with our mother. He returned to Beit Hanoun. Honestly, when we returned to Beit Hanoun, he was finally able to relax. We all felt happier and more comfortable as soon as we were back in Beit Hanoun. We went back to living in tents in Beit Hanoun, but it was still easier. In Beit Hanoun, we were planning Hossam’s engagement. My brother Hossam, one of his dreams was to get engaged, to get married. He really wanted this. He didn’t just want to get married immediately, he wanted to experience what it was like, being engaged. We were trying to convince him to get engaged while we were in the South. “Just get engaged. It’s fine.” He refused. He said, “Not until you come back.” We started planning for his engagement, trying to think who would be a good wife for him. The war started again. The war started up again at 3 a.m., right around dawn. It was a big shock. The war resumed, and Hossam was back on-screen. Hossam went live on Al Jazeera to report breaking news. Anything that happened, he was there reporting on it. We stayed in Beit Hanoun for about three days. Then we were displaced to the Indonesian Hospital. I stayed with him. My brother Hossam asked me to stay with him. I stayed, but of course I took some precautions. What precautions? I would work with Hossam in the evenings. We weren’t allowed to stay in the same tent, he and I. It was absolutely forbidden. Hossam forbade it. He asked, “Would you stay with me? But under one condition: You cannot sleep in the same tent.” “Why, Hossam?” Hossam would say, “I am effectively dead. I am a martyr. It’s only a matter of time before I become a martyr. So you cannot sleep in my tent. If I sleep in the tent, you sleep in the car. If I sleep in the car, you sleep in the tent. We cannot stay together. We cannot, and that’s final.” So we would go out in the evenings to report on strikes. There was a massacre that day that we covered, reporting on injuries and so on. I had a shift in the evening that day. The next day — I would sleep during the daytime — I woke up, ran an errand, then came back. As soon as I returned, I saw my brother Hossam rushing out alongside his friend Mohammed Nidal, may God have mercy on him. He was rushing, so I asked where he was going and told him I was joining. He told me to stay back. I said, “No, I want to come with you.” He replied, “No, just stay. There’s no need for both of us to die. One of us can die, but not two.” He was going to Beit Hanoun. He had a report to film there. I insisted on joining him. He said, “No, stay. One of us can die, not both.” He told me, “If I want to film, Mohammed Nidal is with me.” I didn’t really pay attention, I just went to the tent. I was tired and wanted to sleep. A while later, about 15 to 30 minutes later, there was a reconnaissance strike about a kilometer away from the Indonesian Hospital. I think for the first time, when the strike happened, I just couldn’t get up. I was exhausted. There’s a friend of ours, he said, “My father, my father.” It’s his father who was martyred. So I got up to go because [my friend’s] father was martyred. As I was heading toward the strike, there was a child, about 200 meters away from the strike, who had been wounded. So I took my phone and filmed. I was doing my job, so I filmed. I rushed to the scene, and Hossam’s jeep was there. For the first time, I didn’t expect to see Hossam at the scene. I said, “Hossam? Hossam is doing what?” I was filming, so I put away my phone, put it in my pocket, and I went to grab my work phone, the one specifically for Al Jazeera. I was going to film with Hossam, as I always did. My brother Hossam — there was a strike. I mean, Hossam was always quick, mashallah; he was very quick in these situations. He was always the first one there. So I went [to film] thinking Hossam would be there, and instead a man came out screaming. This man was the uncle of the friend who had told me his father was martyred. So I told him, “There is no god but God, there is no God but God,” and he said to me, “Hossam, your brother.” I was shocked, I didn’t believe him. I was shocked, I walked over and found my brother Hossam on the ground. A shock, the shock of my life. Honestly, I never imagined it. I came to document the news, only to find that my brother Hossam was the news. I never imagined that situation. I thought Hossam would be the one covering the event, but he turned out to be the news itself. And there was Mahmoud, Mahmoud Salama. He was covering the event, too. The situation was such a shock that I started screaming. I just lost it that day. It was very, very, very difficult. My brother Hossam… Yes, I expected him to be martyred, but the scene was terrifying. I was more frightened by the sight than shocked by it. I was terrified by the sight. Seeing my brother Hossam like that, it was frightening, honestly. It’s frightening. That day, my heart broke for him. It broke me. It broke me. When I saw my brother Hossam — it broke me. Hossam, my brother, had been hit in the legs. While my brother Hossam was fine from the waist up, alhamdulillah, I was very upset about his condition from the waist down. He would always say, “God, when I am martyred, tear me apart.” He used to say that when a person is reduced to pieces, their reward with God is great. So he liked the idea of it. But, alhamdulillah, we left in the jeep. That day, we left in the jeep, and I wasn’t even aware that the person with him, his friend Mohammed Nidal, had been martyred. So we left. The guys were sitting in the back of the jeep. When they put him in the back of the jeep, I asked, “Why don’t you put him in the front?” In the front seats. I started banging on the jeep and opened the front seats, and I found Mohammed Nidal, our friend and my brother Hossam’s friend, may God have mercy on him. I found him right in front of me, sitting there. That was a shock, another shock. Hossam and his friend. His friend looks like him, which is comforting. He had the same good spirit and the same laugh. We took them to the Indonesian Hospital. Hossam had been martyred at the outset. There was no hope. My brother Hossam was martyred. The press came. Anas al-Sharif, may God have mercy on him, came and said goodbye to Hossam. We bid a final farewell. Even my mother received the news. She sensed it. I have a brother named Firas Shabat who was following the news. The first person to report the news was Hassan Eslayeh, may God have mercy on him. He said that his colleague Hossam Shabat was martyred. He saw it, so he told my older brother that Hossam had been martyred. And my mother was in a room. She came out and asked, “Was Hossam martyred?” She sensed it. And they came to the burial. My mother’s heart broke because he wanted to get married. He wanted it. My mother kept saying, “We’re sending you off as a groom.” She wanted to see him get married. She said, “Now I’m sending you off as a groom.” It’s true I couldn’t send you off as a groom in this life, but, inshallah, we’ll celebrate your marriage in the next life, Hossam, may God have mercy on him. Before the war, my brother Hossam was always teaching me. Hossam may have helped me more than anybody in my life. He made my life much easier. For example, Hossam would spend six months learning something, then he’d teach it to me in two or three days or a week. Once he had enough experience, he would teach me only what I could benefit from. In filming, editing, and design. Even with work, he would tell me, “Don’t do this; do this. Don’t do it that way; don’t post that.” I mean, Hossam was the one who… My father had passed away. My father passed away six years ago. I took Hossam as my role model. Because I grew up with Hossam. Hossam is four years older than me. I grew up with him; he would take me everywhere, even to the mosque. Whenever there was a prayer or night prayer, he would take me by the hand and say, “Come on, let’s go to the mosque. Let’s go pray together and take some photos.” During the war, of course, I was in the South. I would film footage for him and send it to him. Like a strike. I would send it to him, and he would do the rest. I managed his YouTube channel and his social media. That’s how it was. But when I went back to the South, I was handling the phone. When I returned to the North, I did relief work alongside him. I was filming relief efforts with him. My brother Hossam was involved in relief work and helped people, so I followed those activities and filmed with him. When the war started again, my brother Hossam was so active that no cameraman could keep up with him. The cameraman would get tired, but he wouldn’t. Hossam, my brother, would cover six rounds a day — I don’t know — so many, so many. I mean, he wore out the cameraman, to the point that the cameraman was tired because Hossam was so active. So Al Jazeera assigned him two cameramen during the last war, Mohammed Mahanna and me. I learned from him. He taught me how to go out, how to film, how to get the right angles, how to learn to use the TVO. Little by little, he taught me, and I became who I am… Honestly, I haven’t stopped working since Hossam was martyred, may God have mercy on him. That’s it. I never imagined that I would stop. No, I carried on his mission. He told me that I could not stop. You got into something, so see it through to the end. You can’t stop. Even you… Hossam, my brother, used to tell me, even before I started filming with him… He came and told me, “This ends in death. Are you ready? The end is death, in service of Palestine. Are you ready?” I told him, “As long as you’re here, I’m here with you.” Indeed, I told him I was ready. “Whatever you want, I’m ready.” Indeed, I went with him, he was martyred, and I carried on. I carried on, and here I am, a photographer. I carried on as a cameraman with Al Jazeera. I filmed with various correspondents. I documented strikes to the point that, during those 14 days before the last ceasefire, I was at Al-Shifa Hospital every day. I was in the area around Al-Shifa Hospital. I would go out at night and stay up from around 10 p.m. until dawn, pray Fajr, and then go to sleep. That was it. Honestly, I have so many words to say, but words fail to describe Hossam. The least I can say is I miss you, I swear. I miss our hangouts, the laughter and the jokes. Hossam, honestly, I love him very much, very much. He wasn’t just my brother. Even in my day-to-day life, Hossam helped me so, so much. He shared his contacts and told me what to do. When Hossam left, I felt the loss; I missed having someone to talk to. I would always go to Hossam for advice. He would tell me, “Do this; do that.” I don’t have anyone to turn to now. I can’t talk to anyone but Hossam. Hossam was always the one I went to. He would always tell me to go with him, and he would guide me down the right path. Even in my day-to-day life. All the times we went out, the way we hung out together, laughing together. Man, we laughed so much. It’s my wedding in 14 days. Honestly, I am very upset. I have been sad for days. I would have loved for Hossam to be there. I really wanted him there. I don’t know. May God have mercy on him. I would have loved to… Honestly… I would have really, really loved to celebrate him and his marriage. I really wanted to celebrate him. Sometimes I think, “What if Hossam were here? What if he were here with me now?” Sometimes I’m having a hard time, and I think, “If only he were with me, he would tell me what to do.” Even at university, he took me to registration. If only he were here. When I struggled with some editing or design thing, I would go to Hossam, and he would teach me. I was designing something once, and there was something I just couldn’t figure out how to do. That day, I remembered my brother Hossam, and, to be honest with you, I was so, so, so upset. Like, why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why did they bomb him? Why this? Why did they do this to us? Hossam did nothing. He’s a citizen, a regular citizen. His only crime is that he’s a journalist. According to the occupation army, journalism is a crime. Even though he didn’t do anything. He was just holding a camera and a microphone, filming. I mean, just a few days ago, in an interview with Netanyahu, the interviewer asked, “Why won’t you allow foreign journalists to enter Gaza?” He told them that Gaza was a dangerous area and that he was afraid foreign journalists might be killed or harmed. But what about the journalists you deliberately killed? You did it intentionally, openly, in front of the whole world. You killed these journalists. Aren’t these journalists registered? Aren’t they members of the [Palestinian] Journalists Syndicate? Don’t they work for major networks? To be honest with you, the whole world is spineless. Honestly spineless, spineless. No one should make excuses and say, “There’s nothing I can do.” You are spineless. You, you, you are someone who didn’t… You didn’t move fast enough. I think you could have done more. You could have acted. You could have spoken out. Even international law, international rights law, there isn’t any… Whatever protection journalists are supposed to have — it stops at Gaza. Israel does not respect rights, nor the law. The law? The law applies everywhere in the world except Gaza. Why? Because the Israeli army is the lowest, the lowest army in the world. A shameless army.

Gaza Civil Defense spokesman Mahmoud Basal: - Occupation aircraft directly bombed our crews as they attempted to retrieve the dead and injured from under the rubble of a house bombed in the Sabra neighborhood in southern Gaza. - The attack resulted in the martyrdom of rescue worker Ali Muhammad Mustafa Omar and the injury of others, raising the death toll to 1,000.

الناطق باسم الدفاع المدني في غزة محمود بصل: - طائرات الاحتلال قصفت بشكل مباشر طواقمنا أثناء محاولتهم انتشال الشهداء والإصابات من تحت أنقاض منزل تم قصفه في حي الصبرة جنوب غزة. - أدى الاستهداف إلى استشهاد رجل الإنقاذ/ علي محمد مصطفى عمر وإصابة آخرين، مما يرفع عدد شهداء

Gaza Civil Defense spokesman Mahmoud Basal: - Occupation aircraft directly bombed our crews as they attempted to retrieve the dead and injured from under the rubble of a house bombed in the Sabra neighborhood in southern Gaza. - The attack resulted in the martyrdom of rescue worker Ali Muhammad Mustafa Omar and the injury of others, raising the death toll to 1,000.

الناطق باسم الدفاع المدني في غزة محمود بصل: - طائرات الاحتلال قصفت بشكل مباشر طواقمنا أثناء محاولتهم انتشال الشهداء والإصابات من تحت أنقاض منزل تم قصفه في حي الصبرة جنوب غزة. - أدى الاستهداف إلى استشهاد رجل الإنقاذ/ علي محمد مصطفى عمر وإصابة آخرين، مما يرفع عدد شهداء

Two martyrs were killed, including body parts, and several others were injured after an apartment belonging to the Ghaboun family was targeted in the Tarazi building, west of Gaza City, opposite the Sultan Bakery in the Sabra neighborhood. A civil defense worker was killed after being bombed by the occupation while recovering the wounded from a house attack in the Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City.

Journalist Hossam Shabat was injured when the Zionist occupation targeted the recovery operation in a house in the Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City. #TheNorthIsBesieged #BesiegeEmbassies #JabaliaIsBesieged #BeitLahiaIsBesieged #StopEthnicCleansingInJabalia #StopGenocideInJabalia #OurSilenceKilledThem

إصابة الصحفي "حسام شبات" بجروح جراء إستهداف الإحتلال الصهيوني عملية إنتشال المصابين في منزل بحي الصبرة جنوبي مدينة غزة #الشمال_يُباد #حاصروا_السفارات #جباليا_تُباد #بيت_لاهيا_تُباد #أوقفوا_التطهير_العرقي_في_جباليا #اوقفوا_الإبادة_في_جباليا #صمتنا_قتلهم

"This hand bears witness to his right." A touching scene of a civil defense member holding the hand of his martyred colleague after he was targeted while trying to rescue injured people from under the rubble of a house bombed by the occupation forces in the Al-Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City.

Al Jazeera Mubasher crew injured in airstrike on Sabra neighborhood in southern Gaza Gaza - SKeyes Special The Al Jazeera Mubasher crew, including reporter Hossam Shabat and cameraman Mohammed Al-Masry, were injured on Tuesday, November 19, 2024, when Israeli warplanes bombed a house in the Sabra neighborhood in southern Gaza City. In the details, Shabat told a SKeyes reporter: "Civil Defense personnel in Gaza City received a signal that a house in the Sabra neighborhood in southern Gaza City had been bombed. My colleague, cameraman Mohammed Al-Masry, and I drove to the site of the bombing in our car, accompanied by Civil Defense. However, while we were inside the house, we were surprised by a new airstrike, which caused us to suffer bruises as a result of rubble falling on us. We were pulled out from under it." https://www.skeyesmedia.org/ar/News/News/20-11-2024/12096

إصابة طاقم قناة الجزيرة مباشر بقصف الطيران على حيّ الصبرة جنوب غزة غزة ـ خاص "سكايز" أُصيب طاقم قناة "الجزيرة مباشر" الذي ضمّ المراسل حسام شبات والمصوّر محمد المصري، يوم الثلثاء 19 تشرين الثاني/نوفمبر 2024، بقصف الطيران الحربي الإسرائيلي على منزل في حيّ الصبرة جنوب مدينة غزة. وفي التفاصيل، قال شبات لمراسل "سكايز": "وصلت إشارة إلى رجال الدفاع المدني في مدينة غزة عن قصف منزل في حيّ الصبرة جنوب مدينة غزة، فتوجّهت مع زميلي المصوّر محمد المصري بسيارتنا برفقة الدفاع المدني إلى مكان القصف، لكننا تفاجأنا ونحن داخل المنزل بقصف جديد من الطيران الحربي، ما أدى إلى إصابتنا برضوض نتيجة وقوع الركام علينا، حيث تم انتشالنا من تحته". https://www.skeyesmedia.org/ar/News/News/20-11-2024/12096

The Palestinian News Agency reported that a number of Palestinians were killed and others injured Wednesday night in an Israeli airstrike on a house southwest of Gaza City. The agency quoted local sources as saying that Israeli aircraft bombed a populated house opposite the Sultan Bakery in the Al-Sabra neighborhood southwest of Gaza City. Israeli aircraft also launched a series of violent airstrikes on the town of Beit Lahia, north of the Gaza Strip.

أفادت وكالة الأنباء الفلسطينية بمقتل عدد من الفلسطينيين وإصابة آخرين، ليلة الأربعاء، في غارة إسرائيلية على منزل جنوب غرب مدينة غزة. ونقلت الوكالة عن مصادر محلية قولها، إن طائرات إسرائيلية قصفت منزلا مأهولا بالسكان مقابل مخبز السلطان في حي الصبرة جنوب غرب مدينة غزة. وشنّت طائرات إسرائيلية أيضا سلسلة غارات عنيفة على بلدة بيت لاهيا شمال قطاع غزة.

#AlJazeera correspondent and one of the last steadfast journalists in northern Gaza, #Hussam_Shabat, was injured in an Israeli attack that targeted a house in #Gaza City. When Shabat arrived with his colleague, cameraman Mohammed Muhanna, to cover the aggression, the occupation forces bombed the house again while #Civil_Defense personnel were rescuing the wounded and martyrs. As a result of the double attack, a number of Civil Defense personnel were killed and wounded, while Shabat and Muhanna were also injured.

أُصيب مراسل قناة #الجزيرة وأحد آخر الصحافيين الصامدين في شمال غزّة #حسام_شبات بقصفٍ إسرائيلي استهدف منزلاً في مدينة #غزة. وعند وصول شبات مع زميله المصوّر محمد مهنّا لتغطية العدوان، قصفت قوّات الاحتلال المنزل مجدداً أثناء قيام عناصر #الدفاع_المدني بانتشال الجرحى والشهداء. وسقط إثر الاعتداء المزدوج عدد من الشهداء والجرحى بين صفوف الدفاع المدني، كما أُصيب شبات ومهنّا بجروح

Civil Defense in Gaza: The moment the occupation targeted civil defense crews while they were performing their humanitarian duties in rescuing people from under the rubble of a house belonging to the Ghaboun family in the Sabra neighborhood in #Gaza City, which resulted in the death of one of the civil defense personnel, Ali Omar, and the injury of three others.

?? Civil Defense - Gaza Strip | The moment the Israeli occupation aircraft targeted the Civil Defense crews while performing their humanitarian mission in rescuing the martyrs and wounded from under the rubble of the house of the "Ghaboun" family two days ago in the Al-Sabra neighborhood in the center of Gaza City, which resulted in the martyrdom of one of the Civil Defense members, "Ali Omar", and three of our crews were injured during the mission.*

?? الدفاع المدني - قطاع غـ.ـزة | لحظة استهداف طائرات الإحتلال الإسرائيلي لطواقم الدفاع المدني أثناء تأدية مهامهم الإنسانية في انتشال الشـ.ـهداء والجرحى من تحت أنقاض منزل لعائلة "غبون" منذ يومين في حي الصبرة وسط مدينة غـ.ـزة والتي إرتقي على أثرها أحد أفراد الدفاع المدني الشـ.ـهيد "علي عمر" وأصابه ثلاثة من طواقمنا أثناء المهمة.*

?? Civil Defense - Gaza Strip | The moment the Israeli occupation aircraft targeted the Civil Defense crews while performing their humanitarian mission in rescuing the martyrs and wounded from under the rubble of the house of the "Ghaboun" family two days ago in the Al-Sabra neighborhood in the center of Gaza City, which resulted in the martyrdom of one of the Civil Defense members, "Ali Omar", and three of our crews were injured during the mission.*

?? الدفاع المدني - قطاع غـ.ـزة | لحظة استهداف طائرات الإحتلال الإسرائيلي لطواقم الدفاع المدني أثناء تأدية مهامهم الإنسانية في انتشال الشـ.ـهداء والجرحى من تحت أنقاض منزل لعائلة "غبون" منذ يومين في حي الصبرة وسط مدينة غـ.ـزة والتي إرتقي على أثرها أحد أفراد الدفاع المدني الشـ.ـهيد "علي عمر" وأصابه ثلاثة من طواقمنا أثناء المهمة.*

Ali Muhammad Mustafa Omar, a moon from the Civil Defense, we cannot forget, our Civil Defense, all this glory, and no one in this world can close their eyes to the superiority of your hearts, your humanity, your courage, your patience, your nerves, and your high stature. Peace be upon you and your blessed efforts from all the sons of the people. You are the vanguard of the nation and the peaks, the fragrance of existence, and the humility of prostration. Today is the appointment.

علي محمد مصطفى عمر قمر من أقمار الدفاع المدني ليس لنا يا أن ننسى يا دفاعنا المدني كل هذه المجد وليس لأحدٍ في هذه الدنيا أن يغمض عيناه على تفوق قلوبكم وانسانيتكم وشجاعتكم وصبركم واعصابكم وهاماتكم العالية،السلام عليكم وعلى جهودكم المباركة من كافة أبناء الشعب أنتم طلائع الأم والقمم وعطر الوجود وخشوع السجود واليوم الموعد.

Information about the martyr Mai Ziad Saleh Ghaboun Age: 29 years old Date of event: November 20, 2024 Address: Gaza City Circumstances of martyrdom: Israeli occupation aircraft targeted a residential apartment belonging to the Ghaboun family in the Tarazi building in the Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, without prior warning, resulting in the martyrdom of Mai Ghaboun and several other martyrs.

معلومات عن الشهيد/ة مي زياد صالح غبون العمر: 29 عام. تاريخ الحدث: 20 نوفمبر 2024 العنوان: مدينة غزة. ظروف الاستشهاد: قام طيران الاحتلال الإسرائيلي باستهداف شقة سكنية تعود لعائلة غبون في بناية الترزي في حي الصبرة جنوب مدينة غزة دون سابق إنذار أو تحذير، ما أدى إلى استشهاد مي غبون وعدد من الشهداء.

Information about the martyr Zaki Ahmed Zaki Ghaboun Age: 8 years old Date of event: November 20, 2024 Address: Gaza City Circumstances of martyrdom: Israeli occupation aircraft targeted a residential apartment belonging to the Ghaboun family in the Tarazi building in the Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, without prior warning, resulting in the martyrdom of Zaki Ghaboun and several other martyrs.

معلومات عن الشهيد/ة زكي أحمد زكي غبون العمر: 8 أعوام. تاريخ الحدث: 20 نوفمبر 2024 العنوان: مدينة غزة. ظروف الاستشهاد: قام طيران الاحتلال الإسرائيلي باستهداف شقة سكنية تعود لعائلة غبون في بناية الترزي في حي الصبرة جنوب مدينة غزة دون سابق إنذار أو تحذير، ما أدى إلى استشهاد زكي غبون وعدد من الشهداء.