Zina Al-Bayoumi, a survivor of a massacre that wiped out her family, shared: “I am indeed patient and don’t want to cry, but my life is difficult after losing my family.” This is the emotional ordeal of Zina, a woman in her twenties, lying on a hospital bed, where her pain merges with a determination to endure her injuries and the devastating loss of her loved ones.
Zina remains haunted by how a family gathering—providing a fleeting moment of happiness amidst the genocide at their home in Nuseirat refugee camp—turned into tragedy. She recalls how her youth was stolen by a massacre that deprived her of the “warm embrace” of her family and her dreams. Zina hesitates to speak of the massacre’s details, fearing her tears might betray her fragile heart, already burdened by unprecedented brutality.
Her suffering began long before the massacre, coinciding with the start of the genocide on 7 October 2023. Summoning her strength, Zina recounted her ordeal to “Palestine Online,” describing how the Israeli army forced her family to flee Nuseirat, abandoning their home, memories, and life. “We stayed in Nuseirat until the occupation forced us to leave, claiming they planned military operations. We relocated to Rafah and stayed there for 40 days.”
Accompanying Zina were her parents in their fifties, three siblings, and her eighty-year-old grandfather, Abdul Hamid Al-Bayoumi. Nuseirat was initially deemed “safe” by the Israeli army, encouraging northern Gaza residents to move there, as well as to other central and southern areas. However, Zina’s story is just one of countless massacres across Gaza, which, according to health data, have killed or injured approximately 150,000 people—mostly children and women.
The attack targeted a densely populated civilian block, killing 33 people, including children, women, and the elderly, and injuring or leaving around 84 others missing, as reported by Gaza’s government media office.
In Rafah, Zina and her family sought refuge at her uncle’s home before returning to Nuseirat. At the time, only a few families remained in their neighbourhood due to widespread forced displacement. Yet, as more families returned, Zina recalls the persistent sounds of shelling and artillery, saying: “We stayed at home because we had nowhere else to go.”
On 10 December, her life changed forever. That evening, she and her siblings sought moments of joy amidst the horrors. By eleven o’clock, rockets struck their home. Zina only learned the full extent of the tragedy after regaining consciousness in hospital, following surgery and medication. “I was asleep; I didn’t hear anything. I woke up injured, unaware that the house had collapsed on us.”
Buried under the rubble, Zina was rescued while in a state of shock, unable to answer questions about her family. Now, she endures the physical pain of broken bones, treated with metal plates, but nothing compares to the loss of seven family members: her parents, two siblings, her grandfather, her uncle, and his son.
Source : Safa News“A black nightmare looms over me,” she says, her voice trembling. “They were my family—everything in my life.” Wracked with grief and unanswered questions, Zina struggles to comprehend why her life was turned into a living hell. Though she speaks of patience to face an uncertain future, her eyes betray her anguish and fear, reflecting a wound that may never heal.
