Before dawn on Wednesday, a small number of displaced residents began the long journey back towards Khan Younis, following a tightly controlled reopening of the Rafah crossing with Egypt. What should have been a brief passage stretched into an exhausting ordeal lasting hours. One woman described queues that barely moved, mounting fatigue, and constant fear for relatives still stranded on the other side, unsure when, or if, they would be allowed through amid a genocidal war that has hollowed out daily life.

On both sides of the border, anticipation turned into quiet desperation. In Egypt, patients who had been transferred earlier for treatment waited for their names to be called, clinging to the hope of return. Inside Gaza, families gathered near medical facilities, scanning lists and phones for any indication that a medical evacuation might be approved. The atmosphere was heavy with uncertainty, shaped by months of displacement and loss during a genocide that has severed families and routines alike.

Movement through Rafah remains severely rationed, with only a few dozen people permitted each day in either direction, primarily for medical reasons. Humanitarian supplies continue to be held back, deepening shortages across the Strip. While Egyptian hospitals and ambulances stand ready, aid workers warn that the quotas fall dramatically short of what is required, leaving countless civilians trapped by a genocidal war that shows no sign of easing.