GAZA CITY – Amr Adas kneels in front of what used to be the Al-Saada building. Crews have cleared much of the rubble in the days since the building collapsed at dawn last week, but he still runs his hands over what is left, over the spot where he believes his two youngest children were trapped and died.
The bodies of his 6-year-old son Bilal, the only boy among his four sisters, and his 12-year-old daughter Dunya were pulled from the rubble five hours after the building collapsed. Before they went to sleep that night, they talked about buying new clothes and stationery for the upcoming first day of the school year.
Adas picks through the debris for anything that belonged to his children, the living and the dead. Each time he finds a piece of clothing or a small notebook, his voice falters. He goes quiet and stares for a long time, first at the evening sky and then at the rubble.
“God, why did this happen to us?” the 37-year-old says, striking one palm against the other before he buries his face and weeps. “Why did I lose my son? Why were we forced to live in a destroyed building in the first place? Why did the world leave us alone?”
Bilal and Dunya were among the 11 children killed in the building collapse that day. Ten adults were also killed, and dozens were injured or remain missing. Some may have been saved if Israel didn’t block the heavy machinery and equipment needed for rescues from entering the Strip. But Palestinians families should never have been forced to shelter in such buildings in the first place. Faced with repeated displacement, Israel’s continued bombing and gunfire, harsh weather conditions, and no money to move, if there was somewhere to move at all, Palestinians feel they have no option but to risk sheltering in war-damaged buildings. Nowhere in Gaza is safe. And unless things change, Palestinians know there will be many more Al-Saadas in the weeks and months to come.
