Riham Al-Sharawi, forced to flee her home in eastern Gaza’s Al-Zaytoun neighbourhood, describes the terror of running through shellfire with her children wrapped in blankets, desperate to find solid ground. Across Gaza City’s eastern districts, Al-Shuja’iyya, Al-Zaytoun, Al-Tuffah, thousands of civilians, mostly women and children, endure nights filled with fear as Israeli bombardments intensify, with little respite and no safe refuge.

At 62, Umm Hassan Hajji recalls the moment artillery neared her home at 2 a.m., prompting her to wake her children and flee barefoot into darkness, leaving everything behind. Similar stories echo through crowded shelters, where families arrive exhausted, uncertain if loved ones survived amid the collapse of communication networks.

Al-Shifa Hospital treats children like seven-year-old Karim Madi, grievously wounded by shrapnel near his home. His father’s tears reveal the deeper wound: the loss of safety and peace. Nearby, Reem Al-Deeb hides with her three children, who are traumatised, her youngest too afraid even to speak.

These eastern neighbourhoods are now ghost towns: homes destroyed or abandoned, streets empty, and the stench of the dead lingering beneath rubble. Repeated evacuation orders have forced nearly a million Palestinians to flee multiple times, only to face bombings in so-called “safe zones,” increasing casualties among the displaced.

Abu Ahmad Salmi, father of five, voices the despair shared by many: “I can’t protect my children. We die a little every day, from fear, hunger, confusion.” Children in shelters learn to recognise warplanes’ sounds and hide during explosions, while essentials like milk, medicine, and clean water vanish.

While political talks and “deals” dominate headlines, the cries of Gaza’s displaced go unheard. As Umm Hassan pleads, “We just want one night without running through fire with our children.”