Graves on Top of Graves… Undertakers in Gaza Are Exhausted

Palestinian gravedigger Saadi Hassan Barakeh say he has been burying the dead for 28 years, but has never been so busy amid the Gaza war. MAHMUD HAMS / AFP
Palestinian gravedigger Saadi Hassan Barakeh say he has been burying the dead for 28 years, but has never been so busy amid the Gaza war. MAHMUD HAMS / AFP
TT

Graves on Top of Graves… Undertakers in Gaza Are Exhausted

Palestinian gravedigger Saadi Hassan Barakeh say he has been burying the dead for 28 years, but has never been so busy amid the Gaza war. MAHMUD HAMS / AFP
Palestinian gravedigger Saadi Hassan Barakeh say he has been burying the dead for 28 years, but has never been so busy amid the Gaza war. MAHMUD HAMS / AFP

More than 10 months into the Gaza war, so many bodies are arriving at Al-Soueid cemetery in Gaza’s Deir el-Balah that gravediggers are forced to build graves on top of other graves.

Undertakers are working like bricklayers in the cemetery, piling cinder blocks into tight rectangles, side by side, for freshly dug graves.

Leading his team of gravediggers, Saadi Hassan Barakeh, 63, now handles Al-Soueid cemetery, with its 5.5 hectares of graves. Previously, he also oversaw burials at the nearby Ansar cemetery, which covers 3.5 hectares. But now “the Ansar cemetery is completely full,” he told AFP.

The two cemeteries are located in the city of Deir el-Balah in the center of the Gaza Strip that has been bombarded by Israel for more than ten months after Hamas launched the unprecedented October 7 attack in Israel.

“Before the war, we had one or two funerals per week, maximum five,” Barakeh says, wearing a white prayer cap that matches his long beard.

“Now, there are weeks when I bury 200 to 300 people. It's unbelievable.”

Yet even with one cemetery instead of two, Barakeh said he works “every day, from six in the morning to six in the evening.”

Piles of Martyrs

Barakeh, leading his team of gravediggers, says “The cemetery is so full that we now dig graves on top of other graves, we've piled the dead in levels.”

Barakeh has been burying the dead for 28 years. In “all the wars in Gaza,” he says he has “never seen crimes like this.”

Barakeh bears daily witness to the tragedies. Hoe in hand, he gives encouragement to his 12 workers as they prepare and close dozens of graves every day.

At night, however, some images are hard to forget.

“I can't sleep after seeing so many mangled children's bodies and dead women,” he told AFP, adding: “I buried 47 women from the Tabatibi family, including 16 who were pregnant. What crime have these women committed?”

The October 7 Hamas attack which triggered the war resulted in the deaths of 1,198 people, mostly civilians, according to an AFP tally of Israeli official figures.

Israel’s retaliatory military offensive has killed at least 40,005 people in Gaza, according to the Hamas-run health ministry.

“I buried a lot of women and children, and only two or three guys from Hamas,” says Barakeh.

‘Why the children?’

If Israelis “have a problem with (Yahya) Sinwar and with (Ismail) Haniyeh, why do they harm children?” he adds angrily.

Barakeh is convinced that the Israelis want to eliminate the entire Palestinian people.

Graves with white headstones fill nearly all the available space, while men dig new holes in the few vacant areas.

The team forms a human chain to carry the cinder blocks, whose price has soared since Gaza’s factories closed due to a lack of fuel and raw materials.

“One shekel ($0.27) before the war, 10 or 12 today,” he lamented.

Besides gravediggers and the workers carrying cinder blocks, hardly anyone comes to funerals anymore, Barakeh says.

“Before the war, there were sometimes 1,000 people at one funeral; today there are days when we bury 100 people and there aren’t even 20 to lay them to rest.”

High above his head, the constant hum of an Israeli surveillance drone serves as a reminder of the aerial threat creating a steady stream of bodies.



Gaza’s Girls Cut off Their Hair for Lack of Combs

 Lobna al-Azaiza, a Palestinian pediatrician providing free medical services to displaced Palestinians, examines a girl in a tent near her house, which was destroyed in an Israeli strike, in Deir Al-Balah in the central Gaza Strip, August 12, 2024. (Reuters)
Lobna al-Azaiza, a Palestinian pediatrician providing free medical services to displaced Palestinians, examines a girl in a tent near her house, which was destroyed in an Israeli strike, in Deir Al-Balah in the central Gaza Strip, August 12, 2024. (Reuters)
TT

Gaza’s Girls Cut off Their Hair for Lack of Combs

 Lobna al-Azaiza, a Palestinian pediatrician providing free medical services to displaced Palestinians, examines a girl in a tent near her house, which was destroyed in an Israeli strike, in Deir Al-Balah in the central Gaza Strip, August 12, 2024. (Reuters)
Lobna al-Azaiza, a Palestinian pediatrician providing free medical services to displaced Palestinians, examines a girl in a tent near her house, which was destroyed in an Israeli strike, in Deir Al-Balah in the central Gaza Strip, August 12, 2024. (Reuters)

When girls complain to Gaza pediatrician Lobna al-Azaiza that they have no comb, she tells them to cut off their hair.

It's not just combs. Israel's blockade of the territory, ravaged by 10 months of war, means there is little or no shampoo, soap, period products or household cleaning materials.

Waste collection and sewage treatment have also collapsed, and it's easy to see why contagious diseases that thrive on overcrowding and lack of cleanliness - such as scabies or fungal infections - are on the rise.

"In the past period, the most common disease we have seen was skin rashes, skin diseases, which have many causes, including the overcrowding in the camps, the increased heat inside the tents, the sweating among children, and the lack of sufficient water for bathing," the doctor said.

Azaiza used to work at Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahia until Israeli tanks separated the north of the besieged enclave from the south.

Like most of Gaza's medics, she has adapted and continues to treat patients, walking to work past her own ruined house, demolished by an Israeli strike.

The tent clinic she set up with a small team began by treating children, but has by necessity become a practice for whole families, most of whom have also been ordered or bombed out of their homes, like the vast majority of Gaza's 2.3 million people.

Even the medication that is available is often unaffordable; a tube of simple burn ointment can now cost 200 shekels ($53).

International aid deliveries have been dramatically reduced since Israel seized control of the Rafah border crossing from Egypt, exacerbating a humanitarian crisis.

Israel denies responsibility for delays in getting urgent humanitarian aid in, saying that the UN and others are responsible for its distribution inside the enclave.

Azaiza has little doubt where the immediate solution lies:

"The border crossing must be opened so that we can bring in medications, as most of the current ones are ineffective: zero effect, there is no effect on the skin diseases that we see."