For the 90th consecutive day, Jenin and its refugee camp remain under relentless assault by Israeli occupation forces. What began as a military incursion has transformed into an unyielding campaign of destruction, displacement, and fear, with no sign of reprieve.

Heavy reinforcements continue to pour in from the Al-Jalama checkpoint, accompanied by bulldozers and fuel tankers. Homes have been burned, others converted into makeshift military outposts. Around the Twalbeh Mosque, bulldozers have erected earthen barricades while surveillance drones hover ominously overhead, a constant reminder of occupation from above.

Arrests have surged in Jenin and neighbouring towns such as Arraba, Jaba‘, and Burqin. Raids, live gunfire, and mass detentions have left families shattered and neighbourhoods emptied. Over 21,000 residents have now been displaced—forced to flee homes that have become targets, seeking shelter wherever they can. Some have taken refuge in the Arab American University dormitories, others in makeshift caravans in Wadi Burqin.

The Jenin Governorate and the Ministry of Public Works are scrambling to provide emergency housing, but the scale of displacement is overwhelming. Temporary shelters—mobile homes for five—are a meagre response to a crisis of growing magnitude.

Meanwhile, Israeli forces have turned the areas around Al-Jalama checkpoint into military training grounds, firing live ammunition into the outskirts of what was once a vibrant camp. Jenin, now largely evacuated, bears the scars of a siege disguised as security.

Since the beginning of the offensive, 38 Palestinians in the Jenin Governorate have been killed. Dozens more have been wounded or imprisoned. But beyond the numbers lies a city under siege—a community resisting not just bombs and bullets, but a strategy of displacement aimed at erasing its very existence.