When Israel and Hamas agreed to a ceasefire in Gaza a month ago, Mona Al-Harazin could not hold back her tears. The only thing he was thinking about was his son Yazan, who – in his own words – died in an air strike in the first month of the war, at the age of 17.
In a phone conversation with the BBC, he recalls that the first thing he did was return to the northern Gaza Strip, where he spent most of his life. He had fled air strikes and bombing there a few weeks before the ceasefire took effect in October.
This was not the first time Mona had made this trip. It had already marched from south to north in January 2025, when the previous ceasefire between Hamas and Israel was in effect.
He says that he carried Yazan’s body after he was recovered from under the rubble where he had been trapped for nearly a year, and he began to cry when he explained that he wanted to bury him properly.
That time, he took a car. A trip that used to take 30 minutes before the war took about three hours, as he navigated badly damaged roads and traffic jams caused by the large number of people returning north.
As the car crossed the valley from where Gaza City could be seen, Mona says the panoramic image terrified her.
“As far as I could see, there were only empty spaces. It was a terrible sight. The ground was covered in rubble. It was as if the ground had swallowed all the buildings.”
He describes the city’s skyline as transformed, with apartment complexes and 13-storey buildings disappearing. “I felt isolated and terrible. I can’t describe the feeling. It made me cry,” she says.
He already knew that his home in Gaza City, where he lived for 20 years, would be destroyed in 2024.
Despite this, Mona wants to stay because it is her home. I found a three-bedroom apartment for rent a 10-minute drive away.
Mona says it is one of the few apartments available for rent in the city, and it is expensive. The only way she can afford it is to share it with her mother, two sisters and their families, and she’s not sure how long they will be able to afford it.
Mona says that she did not receive any help or food, and although some things are already available, the prices are “exorbitant.”
He explains that before the war, the price of a kilo of bananas was about three shekels (0.90 US dollars). He says now the price is about 20 shekels ($6). A bag of pita bread costs between seven and eight shekels ($2.50). Now it costs about 60 (US$18).
He points out that he has not yet been able to obtain some materials, such as eggs, and describes the number of families who are still cooking on open fires, because they cannot obtain gas.
He says they light fires on large metal cylinders on balconies, in unused bathrooms, or near windows so they can boil water and heat food.
“Since we have no furniture, we sit on blankets and pillows on the floor,” he adds.
Mona explains that the residents of Gaza still do not feel safe and secure, and do not have much confidence in the stability of the ceasefire. “We still hear the sounds of gunshots, missiles and explosions,” he says. “I’m so scared.”
But Mona admits that she sleeps a little easier knowing that her other two children – Mohammed, 16, and Bashar, 12 – are relatively safe as a result of the truce.
His view is bleak: “We have no future… Gaza has disappeared.”
“Even for one day, I wish I could come home, take a shower, sleep in my bed, comb my hair in front of my mirror, put on clean clothes, or put on my perfume. I miss the simpler things I used to do, but can no longer do.”
While most of the people we spoke to expressed difficulty thinking about rebuilding their lives, some, like Jumana, 26, can see small glimpses of their old lives.
His house is considered one of the few houses still standing in Gaza City. He says over the phone that his apartment “was not severely damaged, thank God.” “Only the windows are broken and the kitchen is a little damaged.”
The freelance journalist now lives with her two daughters and her husband, who does the same job as her. He says that his eldest daughter, Tulin, 6 years old, who wanted to return to school, is receiving private lessons for the first time since the beginning of the war.
Their other daughter, two-year-old Talia, was born less than a week after the Hamas-led attack in southern Israel on October 7, which killed about 1,200 people and took 251 hostage.
Tulane was also born in October, and the family was hoping this year they could finally have a big celebration for both girls.
But Jumana points out that the plans were shattered after a family member was killed following Israeli air strikes in late October, when Hamas and Israel accused each other of violating the ceasefire.
He was one of 68,000 deaths recorded in Gaza during the war, according to the Ministry of Health in the Strip, figures accepted by the United Nations and other international organizations.
The Israeli army claimed to have attacked dozens of “terrorist” targets following Hamas’ violations of the US-brokered truce. The Israeli Defense Minister accused Hamas of carrying out an attack in Gaza that led to the death of an Israeli soldier and violating the conditions for handing over the bodies of dead hostages. Hamas insisted that it had “nothing to do” with the attack and that Israel was trying to undermine the ceasefire agreement.
Jumana saw this as a reminder that life is still far from normal. He says bitterly: “With or without war, this is what our life has become, our sad reality.”
However, she took her daughters for a walk around town with her husband. He shared a video clip of the two girls walking through the rubble.
Then they went to a restaurant for lunch. “We offered them pizza, shawarma and Coca-Cola,” says Jumana. “They had been deprived of all of that for a long time, so it seemed like a dream to them.”
He also shared photos of the food he was able to buy, including meat kebab, a whole chicken, ice cream, fruit and some lamb. She took her daughters to the supermarket and sent photos showing the shelves full of candy, chips and coffee, but some in the background appeared empty.
“The shelves are only filled when the (Israeli) army allows products into the supermarket,” he says. “Not everything is in stock. If border crossings stop for just two days, the shelves will be emptied immediately.”
Jumana explains that his family can pay for food and other basic products because they work. But most people in Gaza are unemployed and banks are not open. Some people save in cash, he explains, and it’s easier if they transfer the money to a bank account, but they usually charge 25%.
Jomana also shared a video and photos of herself taking her daughters swimming and playing on the beach. In the background you can see badly damaged buildings, the walls and windows of the apartments in one of them were blown out, but you can see a family living there.
This picture confirms the reality of life in Gaza. Jumana says: “There is no future for us or our girls in Gaza. We are trying to get used to it, but it is not normal.”
“We are planning for a future outside Gaza, unfortunately.”
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