In Gaza City, the threat of forced displacement is more than a looming plan, it is the potential erasure of a city and the lives rooted in it. Residents face a grim choice between staying under constant bombardment or leaving for the overcrowded south, where safety is uncertain and basic needs are scarce. Every step beyond familiar streets carries danger, every moment of silence before an explosion reminds families that their lives are at the mercy of forces beyond their control. The city itself feels alive, bearing witness to the daily struggle of its people, its children, and their relentless effort to survive.

For many, the experience has been crushing. Mona Salama, after two years of war, describes the unbearable weight of fear: “Before, staying meant death with a chance of survival. Now, staying means certain death.” Families have already lost homes and neighbourhoods, and the prospect of displacement adds a new layer of uncertainty. Journalist Hidaya Hassanein notes that plans for further expulsions only deepen the fear: northern areas are uninhabitable, while the south promises a different kind of suffering, leaving residents trapped between despair and determination.

Yet amid devastation, resilience endures. Um Yaman Quweder speaks of the daily effort to protect her children, to provide some normality amid shattered infrastructure and scarce resources. “Steadfastness is not just a word, it’s cooking for them, cleaning what little can be cleaned, trying to make life as normal as possible amid the devastation,” she explains. For the people of Gaza, survival is an act of defiance. Their streets, homes, and memories may be under threat, but the bond to their city and to one another persists, insisting that life and hope endure even in the shadow of destruction.