Khan Yunis, Gaza Strip, Palestine – With a heavy heart, deep eyes and trembling hands, Abu Muhammad Ghaith carefully searched through the thick nylon bags used as makeshift shrouds for those killed in Gaza. Inside the mortuary of Nasir Hospital in the southern city of Khan Younis, he was hoping to find a trace of his missing son. Instead, he found only unidentified body parts and dismembered remains.
The sight caused him to fall to the ground, overcome with grief and exhaustion. Still, she mustered her strength and continued to search for any trace of 17-year-old Muhammad, turning her attention from the bodies to personal items: yellow plastic-studded sandals or an orange sweater, black. Jacket, tracksuit pants – anything. which may be his son’s.
“Has anyone seen the patched sandal with the yellow sole? Please, if you find it, let me know.” Abu Mohammed pleaded with others who, like him, were among the remains of dozens of bodies rescued by the Palestinian Civil Defense to search for their loved ones at the morgue early Tuesday morning. From under rubble at Rafah, south of Khan Yunis on the Egyptian border. Tears streamed down his face as he leaned against the wall with his knees bent. “I’m not looking for his body anymore—just his sandals. You see what we’ve come up with?” He mumbled, his voice a mix of sadness and helplessness.
A ceasefire between Israel and Hamas that took effect on Sunday has enabled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to return to their mostly demolished homes in Rafah and other areas of the Strip. 15 months of continuous shelling have displaced nearly two million Palestinians in Gaza, many of whom have no chance of properly repatriating the bodies of loved ones who died under the bombardment and debris.
Damaged infrastructure and Israel’s targeting of ambulances and civil defense also hinder their ability to reach bomb-hit areas.
Mohammad has been missing since November. He left the family’s displacement camp in Al-Mawasi because he said it would be a quick trip to retrieve supplies from their home in Rafah.
He never came back.
Abu Muhammad believes his son was killed by Israeli fire or shelling while trying to return home. “He wanted to bring back some of our stuff and go back to the camp. But he didn’t bring anything back, and he didn’t come back either,” she told Al Jazeera.
‘a few bones’
In the days since the Israeli army’s partial withdrawal from Rafah, local aid teams and medical personnel have recovered dozens of remains and body parts, which were transported to Nasir and European hospitals in Khan Yunis for identification. As the news spread, families of missing loved ones flocked to these sites, hoping to find closure.
For Abu Muhammad, it was the last hope he had to find his son.
From the day he went missing, Abu Muhammad left no stone unturned in his search. He contacted the Red Cross, the Ministry of Health and anyone who could help. He even returned to Rafah combing through the rubble of his destroyed home. “I’ve looked everywhere. Her mother is on the verge of losing her mind, and her sisters are desperate for answers,” she said.
About 47,000 people have been killed in the war, according to Gaza’s health ministry. However, the Lancet, a world-renowned medical journal, expects the actual death toll to be higher. 41 percent is more. Compared to the declared tool.
In May, the UN humanitarian agency, OCHA, said that more than 10,000 people were buried under the rubble in Gaza, adding that it could take up to three years to extricate the bodies. Yes, then there were very primitive tools in the area. .
After hours of sifting through the rubble of his destroyed home in Rafah, a heartbroken Faraj Abu Mohsin found no trace of his son. On his way back to Khan Yunis, where his family is homeless, the 42-year-old found body parts and torn clothes about 200 meters (656 feet) from the ruins of his home – items he attributed to his son. are
“I had given up hope of finding him alive. Returning to Khan Yunus after searching all day, my foot struck some bones. I pushed them aside and untied my son’s clothes—his black shirt, blue pants and shoes. I knew it was him,” Farage recalled ruefully. He collected the remains in a bag, buried what he could, and promised to return to find more.
“None of us thought we’d leave him with just a few bones,” he said, his voice laced with grief.
Identity challenges
A heart-wrenching scene unfolded inside and outside the mortuary of Nasir Hospital. Desperate families described their loved ones’ physical features or clothing in hopes of identification.
A mother said, “My son recently got teeth.
“He was wearing blue jeans,” cried another father.
Others talked about height, build, or unique accessories like a cowboy hat or strappy sandals.
Adding to the pain were the harsh labels written on the shrouds: “skull without lower jaw”, “fragments of bone”, “rib cage”, or “upper and lower limbs”. Instead of names and ages, medical teams documented the rest of the details to help families identify the remains of Palestinians killed by Israeli artillery. These notes were accompanied by descriptions of personal items found with the remains – rings, watches, shoes, or damaged identification cards.
Gaza’s lack of DNA testing capabilities significantly hampers identification efforts, explained Dr. Ahmed Zaheer, a forensic medicine consultant at the Gaza Ministry of Health, adding that Israel has long used DNA in the Strip. Entry of testing equipment has been restricted. “Without this technology, many bodies remain unidentified, causing families to suffer forever,” he said.
Dr. Zaheer outlined the identification process: remains are first retrieved by rescue teams, then examined and documented. Details such as location of retrieval, date and any personal items are recorded. Given the condition in which these bodies were found, forensic experts rely heavily on circumstantial evidence, such as clothing or belongings, to guide families.
“We follow the legal protocol by keeping the bodies for 48 hours so that the families have an opportunity to identify them. After that, the remains are buried in a cemetery designated by the Ministry of Awqaf and Civil Defence. , specific numbers and records are kept for possible future identification if testing equipment becomes available,” said Dr. Dharir.
He also said that a third of the remains recovered from Rafah so far – about 150 cases – are unidentified.
“The most difficult cases are those involving partial remains: a skull, leg bones or fragments of a rib cage. These have been carefully numbered and catalogued, but without DNA testing, the definitive Identification is often impossible,” he added.
Desperate family
Current forensic resources in Gaza are limited, with only three experts available in the southern region and none in the north, Dr. Zaheer explained, adding that this shortage has put pressure on an already overwhelmed system, especially with Israeli attacks. With large amounts of residue recovered after
For families like Abu Muhammad’s, the inability to find or recognize their loved ones prolongs their grief. “We just want to know his fate,” Abu Mohammed said. “Even if all that is left of my son is a bone, we want to bury him and say goodbye.”
Forensic teams are facing increasing pressure, not only from families but also from a growing backlog of remains. Dr. Zaheer emphasized the need for international assistance. “We urgently need DNA testing equipment and trained experts to help identify victims. It’s not just about closure for families – it’s a humanitarian need,” he said. .
As the efforts continue, families cling to hope, however faint. For Abu Muhammad, the search for his son has become a daily ritual, which he cannot give up despite the emotional burden. “I’ve lost count of the shrouds I’ve opened. I don’t know if I’ll ever find it, but I’ll keep looking,” he said.
The tragedy of the unidentified remains illustrates the wider human cost of the conflict. Beyond the staggering death toll is an equally painful reality: families are left searching for answers amid the wreckage of their lives.
For many, closure feels like an unattainable dream—stolen by war and a lack of resources to heal its wounds.
This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.
