For nearly 600 days, Gaza has endured an unrelenting war that spares neither the innocent nor the places they once called safe. The streets echo with mourning, and every sunrise brings more loss. With famine tightening its grip and aid blocked at sealed borders, the people of Gaza are left to survive under the weight of destruction.

On Monday alone, dozens were killed across the Strip. In Khan Younis, a deadly Israeli special forces raid claimed the life of Ahmed Sarhan after a confrontation, before his wife and children were taken away. The area was then blanketed with airstrikes. Elsewhere, civilians seeking refuge in schools and tents were targeted. Whole families, including children, were erased in moments.

Hospitals have become little more than silent buildings, many bombed out of service, unable to treat the wounded who arrive by the hour. The official death toll now surpasses 53,000, with more than 121,000 injured—numbers that speak to the scale of devastation, but not to the lives behind them.

In Gaza, the concept of safety has disappeared. Homes, markets, shelters, and even the wounded are not spared. As the world watches, the rhythm of death continues uninterrupted. For the people of Gaza, the question is no longer when the war will end—but how much of their humanity can survive it.