The Gazan infants who never saw their first birthday
For thousands of Palestinian parents, the joy of giving birth rapidly turned to grief when their newborn babies were killed by Israel's bombardment.
On Sept. 16, Gaza’s Health Ministry released a 649-page document containing the personal information of 34,344 Palestinians killed by Israel’s onslaught on the enclave over the past 11 months. The seemingly endless list is incomplete: more than 41,000 Palestinians have been martyred since October 7, according to Health Ministry figures, but many of them have not yet been fully identified. Over 11,300 of the identified victims are children, and 710 of them were killed before they turned 1.
These are the stories of six of those infants who were stolen from the world before even seeing their first birthday, as told by their families.
Asser and Aysal Abu Al-Qumsan, four days old
In August, people around the globe saw the images of 33-year-old Muhammad Abu Al-Qumsan holding the birth certificates of his newborn twins. Displaced from the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City in early October, his family had been forced to relocate to Shaboura refugee camp in Rafah, before fleeing again to an apartment in Deir Al-Balah in the center of the Strip. It was there that an Israeli artillery shell killed his twin infants, Asser and Aysal, just four days after they were born, along with their mother, Jumana.
On Aug. 10, Muhammad and Jumana were overjoyed when she gave birth to the twins after a difficult caesarean section at the American field hospital in Deir al-Balah. But before they knew it, that happiness was replaced by deep sorrow and pain.
“At the start of the Israeli war on Gaza, after being displaced from one area to another in search of a safe place where my wife could comfortably and peacefully complete the remaining months of her pregnancy, I finally decided to stay in an apartment owned by one of my wife’s relatives in Al-Qastal Towers, east of Deir al-Balah, along with her mother and siblings,” Muhammad told +972. “I did not imagine that this apartment would become a target for the occupation’s missiles.
Muhammad Abu Al-Qumsan holds the birth certificates of his newborn twins. (Courtesy of Muhammad Abu Al-Qumsan)
“After having breakfast with my wife and her mother on the morning of Aug. 13, I went to collect my children’s birth certificates from the Civil Affairs Department at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah,” he continued. “Minutes after receiving them, and while I was still at the hospital, I received a phone call from a neighbor informing me that the Israeli military had shelled the apartment where my wife and children were, and that everyone inside had been evacuated to the hospital where I was at the time.
“At first, I thought they might have only been wounded, but shock overwhelmed me when I found that their bodies had been placed inside the hospital morgue’s refrigerators,” Muhammad went on. “One of the twins had been torn to pieces, his features unrecognizable, while the other was soaked in blood, just like their mother. As for their grandmother, the Israeli shell had severed her head. The shock and the horrific scene I witnessed were too much for my mind and heart to bear. I fainted and collapsed to the ground.”
After the twins’ birth, Jumana had shared a post on her Facebook profile announcing the news, which brought joy to everyone who knew her. A flood of congratulations and expressions of happiness followed, despite the surrounding tragedies. Four days later, the same post was filled with condolences: commenters expressed their shock at the news of her death, offering sympathies for her and her children’s passing.
“Jumana and I were eagerly awaiting our new life, which would be filled with the laughter of our two children, but the Israeli occupation robbed us of that joy,” Muhammad said. “I only have brief memories and the most beautiful moments of my life with my twins and my wife before they left this world. Aysal and Asser were my first and last joy. What were they guilty of? Why did the Israeli occupation bomb them?”
Sabrine Al-Rouh Al-Sheikh, five days old
Sabrine Al-Rouh Al-Sheikh was not yet born when an Israeli airstrike on Rafah critically wounded her mother and killed her father and sister in April. The baby’s paternal uncle, Rami Al-Sheikh, described the devastation caused by the bombing in the city’s Al-Shaboura neighborhood. “At dawn on April 20, while we were sleeping and without any prior warning, warplanes bombed the house,” Rami recounted. “My brother Shukri was torn to pieces, as was his daughter, Malak.”
Malak, Shukri, and Sabrine Al-Sheikh. (Courtesy of the Al-Sheikh family)
Doctors performed an emergency caesarean section on the mother, also named Sabrine, who was seven months pregnant, but she died 10 minutes later from wounds to her head, chest, and abdomen. Baby Sabrine was transferred to Al-Emirati Hospital in Rafah for further medical care; for five days, she clung to life in the face of death, before she eventually succumbed and joined her family.
Along with the baby’s mother, father, and 3-year-old sister, Malak, 16 other members of their extended family were killed in the strike.
“Her father was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his baby girl and wanted to name her ‘Rouh’, meaning ‘soul’, but I chose to name her Sabrine Al-Rouh in honor of her mother, while also fulfilling her father’s wish before he was killed,” Rami told +972. “How long will these massacres continue? The world is not paying attention to the genocide being committed against us.”
Manal Abu Al-O’uf, seven months old
During the first week of Israel’s onslaught, Mo’emen Abu Al-O’uf, 26, was displaced with his family from their home in Gaza City, and sought shelter with relatives in Deir al-Balah — assured by Israeli evacuation notices that the areas south of Wadi Gaza were safe. But on Oct. 14, only one day after they were displaced, Israeli warplanes bombed the house next door to where they were staying, without any prior warning. Mo’emen and his brother survived the blast with wounds, but his wife, Alaa (22), his baby daughter, Manal (seven months), and his mother, Manal (53), were all killed.
Manal Abu Al-O’uf. (Courtesy of the Abu Al-O’uf family)
“At first, I thought what had happened to me was just a dream,” he recounted. “I felt an overwhelming sense of loss and sorrow that only someone who has experienced the bitterness of losing their loved ones can understand.”
For the past 11 months following the attack, Mo’emen has been accompanied by the memories of his family and the devastating pain of their loss. “The happiest days of my life were when I married Alaa on Dec. 12, 2021, and when my daughter Manal was born, but the occupation deprived me of that joy by killing them. They were innocent. Were they fighters? Were they carrying weapons?”
Naeem and Wissam Abu Anza, five and a half months old
On March 2, an Israeli airstrike targeted the home of 29-year-old Rania Abu Anza in the Al-Salam neighborhood, east of Rafah, killing her baby twins along with her husband and 11 relatives who had sought refuge with them. Rania survived the bombing and was pulled from the rubble of her destroyed home.
Naeem and Wissam Abu Anza with their father, Wissam. (Courtesy of the Abu Anza family)
“We were asleep when the house was attacked,” Rania told +972. “Suddenly, I found myself buried in a pile of rubble. I didn’t hear the missile that struck us. I screamed, hoping someone would rescue us, as the rubble covered the bodies of my children and husband. They were all killed.
It had taken Rania and her husband many years to get pregnant. “We struggled a lot to have children,” she explained. “I underwent three artificial insemination procedures; the first two attempts failed, and we succeeded on the third try. I became pregnant with my twins, Naeem and Wissam, and gave birth to them on Oct. 13.
“I never imagined I would lose my twins and husband,” Rania continued. “I had eagerly awaited the day I would see them grow up in front of me, but now I am left alone. To this day, I still search through the scattered rubble of the house for memories of my children — their blankets and clothes that I had dreamed of seeing them wear. I still hold on to their clothes, and I still continue to wear my husband’s ring, with whom I shared the most beautiful days of my life. But the occupation killed my dream and prevented me from being a mother.”