Jenin has endured 112 consecutive days of Israeli military assault—an onslaught that has transformed the refugee camp and city into a zone of destruction and despair. Bulldozers continue to tear through homes and streets, reshaping the camp with the clear intent of erasing its identity. No one is allowed in or out. The community, once vibrant and defiant, now stands in ruins, watched over by Israeli military patrols that circle like vultures.

This week, Israeli forces stormed homes, detained residents, and deployed infantry throughout towns across Jenin Governorate. Arbitrary roadblocks and nighttime raids have become a terrifying norm. In one case, a young Palestinian man was brutally beaten and bound at the entrance of the camp—a chilling symbol of the daily violence inflicted on the population.

The destruction is not limited to Jenin's camp. Entire neighbourhoods have suffered severe infrastructural damage, with roads and buildings obliterated by repeated military incursions. According to local authorities, around 600 homes in the camp have been completely flattened, while many others are uninhabitable. Families are displaced en masse—over 22,000 people forced from their homes, living in uncertainty and trauma.

Beyond the physical toll, the city’s economy has collapsed. Shops remain shuttered, markets empty. What was once a bustling local hub now bears the marks of an economic war, with losses reportedly surpassing $300 million. The western quarters of the city, in particular, have sunk into a state of near-total economic paralysis.

Since the beginning of this brutal campaign in January, at least 40 lives have been lost. The numbers—of injuries, arrests, and displaced families—continue to rise, but behind each figure is a story of endurance. Jenin may be scarred and battered, but its people refuse to be broken. In the face of destruction, they cling to their right to exist.