This article contains graphic descriptions of death or injury.
There is no conscience. There is no humanity. There are only leaders that watch and do nothing.
Ahmed al-Dalou is convinced of this as he replays images in his head of his family exploding. He says that his life is over. After an Israeli strike, it died with his wife and children in the blaze of al-Aqsa’s compound in the early morning hours of Monday 14th October.
A shroud is draped around the body, 12 year old Abdulrahman, in front of him.
The child suffered in agony four days after an Israeli strike started the fire. Ahmed visited him in the hospital the day before he passed away and was able tell his father, “Don’t worry, I am OK Dad… I’m fine.” “Don’t be afraid.”
Ahmed is half-speaking, half-crying as he speaks of what was taken from him.
“I tried to pull him out of the fire three times, but his body fell into it.”
The fire killed his older brother Sha’aban (19) and his mother Alaa (37).
Sha’aban has become a new symbol for Gaza’s terrible suffering. Social media shared images of him writhing and screaming in pain as he burnt to death in his family’s tent.
Ahmed’s hands and face are covered in burns. His voice is high and keening. Ahmed said of the anonymous pilot and the leaders that gave him orders: “They broke both my heart and my spirit…I wish the fire would have burned me.”
The strike took place at around 01:15 local time on Monday (23:15 BST Sunday).
The Israeli military claimed that it had targeted a Hamas ‘command and control’ centre in the al-Aqsa Hospital compound in Deir al-Balah in central Gaza Strip.
Hamas denies operating hospitals.
Four people died instantly and dozens were injured, including many with severe injuries. Israel Defense Forces stated that it was “reviewing” the incident.
A spokesperson from the White House told CBS News (the BBC’s US partner) that the footage of the fire is “deeply disturbing”, and called on Israel do more to protect civilians.
“Israel must do more to prevent civilian casualties. What happened here is horrific, even if Hamas operated near the hospital to use civilians to shield itself.”
Since the beginning of the war, the US and other powers including Britain have expressed concern over civilian casualties.
Every day, people are shot, blown apart, and burned to death in this war.
The majority of the time, the agonies of death are hidden from the cameras. Cameras capture the frantic search of survivors in the rubble and the dramatic scenes in hospitals.
But the death Sha’aban Al-Dalou was a different story. His hand can be clearly seen reaching out from the inferno. A figure wrapped in fire, writhing, and beyond the reach for any help.
In the days that followed his death, Sha’aban released his own videos and photos. He was a typical teen of his generation. He was aware of the power and importance of social media.
The burning figure of the night of fire was a teenager who was articulate and intelligent, a student of software engineering, a young person who planned for a new future outside Gaza. He filmed himself giving blood and encouraged others do the same.
“We saw so much bloodshed, many children need blood… We only ask for a stop to the violence and that this tragedy end.”
We can only tell the story of the al-Dalou Family because our local journalist went to meet with the survivors. Israel does not allow independent access to Gaza for international journalists from media organizations, including the BBC.
In a video that was recorded in the tent where Sha’aban died, Sha’aban described his family being displaced five different times since the beginning of the war a year earlier. He had two older brothers and sisters.
He said, “We live under very difficult circumstances.” “We suffer from a variety of things, such as homelessness and limited food. We also have very limited medicine.”
As he speaks, the drone of an Israeli surveillance system is audible in the background. This drone is a constant sound in the daily and evening soundtrack of Gaza.
The BBC reported that Mohammed al-Dalou was the surviving brother of Sha’aban and Abdulrahman. He said he tried to jump into the fire to save his older brother.
But he was held back by other injured people, who feared he would also be killed. Mohammed slept outside, on the street, where he watched over the family’s piled-up belongings.
“I screamed for someone to let go of me, but in vain…My brother’s leg had been trapped and he could not free himself. You probably saw it on the video. He raised his hand.
“That was my brother.” He was my brother.
Sha’aban would wake him up in the morning for prayers with a bottle water and tell him: “I will work for you.”
Mohammed recalled that the brothers had set up a food stall outside the hospital to sell the food they made.
“We achieved everything through our hard work.” All we had came from our hard work. “We would get food and drinks… then everything was gone.”
He could only identify his own mother from the burned remains. He recognized a distinctive bracelet on her remains, even though they had been mutilated.
“Without the bracelet, I would not have known that she was my mother.” The bracelet was still on her hand, even though it was separated from her body. “I took it off her wrist.”
This is his only memory of the woman who “kept our home warm”.
The al-Dalous are in shock. The survivors mourn their dead. Our BBC colleague asked Mohammed what the psychological impact of losing loved ones was.
“I can’t describe it. “I can’t describe it. I wish I could explain it, but I’m not able to. I can’t describe it. “I saw my brother and mother burning in front of my eyes.”
Then, as though he were asking a question in behalf of the dead: “What else do you need and you remain silent?” You see us burning and you remain silent.”
Additional reporting by Haneen Abdul and Alice Doyard
Read More @ www.bbc.com