‘Remember Our Names’: Fearing Oblivion, Young Gazans Recorded Last Wills Before Dying

Belal Iyad Akel. For a little more than three years, he had been preparing for his death.

On July 20, Belal’s mission was realized. A day earlier, an Israeli bomb hit the house where some 12 members of the Akel family were staying, including Belal himself, his father Iyad, grandfather Zaki and nieces and nephews Razan, Rim, Mohammed and Rana. The father was killed immediately; Belal was wounded. The next day Belal died of his wounds.

“He wanted to be remembered after his death,” Fidaa, a relative from Nuseirat, told Haaretz. She and her family had moved to Rafah, and she only learned of his death over social media.

And she wasn’t the only one. Akel’s story made headlines in the Arab world media. News presenters read his will, and friends eulogized him in social media posts. They spoke about his passion for life, and his love of music and coffee.

Nearly 10 months into the war, the number of Gaza dead – as reported by the Hamas-controlled Health Ministry – has reached 40,000. The number doesn’t distinguish between combatants and non-combatants. The large number of casualties to date and Israel’s continued assaults (according to the Israeli army, thousands of armed men have assimilated into the local population) leave little doubt among the living that their turn could be next.
For that reason, more and more Gazans are looking for ways to say farewell in their own way. Haaretz recounts the stories of four who have written living, photograph or written wills, which have a common theme – they know that they will die but don’t want to do so as another number.

‘My last message’

On October 12, Yaser Barbakh, a 26-year-old Rafah resident, uploaded his last video, in Arabic, to his personal Instagram page, “I ask forgiveness from you for the recent loss of contact, but the situation here is very difficult,” he said in Arabic, describing his new daily life – hospitals and ambulances coming under attack, journalists getting killed, hospital morgues filled to the gill with bodies. “I only ask that you continue to make our voice heard in the world,” he said, “Keep spreading the word about the suffering we are experiencing. Pray for me.”

The next day he uploaded a written post. “This may be my last message,” he began, ending with a request: “If we are no longer alive, remember what we did and our names and write on my gravestone prominently, ‘Here lies someone who loved life and did everything in his power to find a way to live it.’ Pray for me with all your heart. I apologize.”

Ten days later, on October 23, Barbakh was killed, along with six other family members, by a bomb that hit his home in Rafah at the southern edge of the Strip near the Egyptian border. Ahmad, 27, one of Yaser’s friends, told Haaretz that the two lost touch in the first days of the war and that he learned of his death through friends. He said Barbakh had gotten a bachelor’s degree in economics and political science from Alexandria University in Egypt and at age 23 had sought to get a master’s in the same disciplines at Gaza’s Al-Aqsa University.

“He was a hard-working, ambitious guy, and very interested in politics,” Ahmad says. “I still think about the pictures in which he was smiling, and about the plans he had for the future to develop, to organize conferences in Gaza and abroad to raise political awareness among young people.”

Parting words to his children

On March 11, the Khan Yunis neighborhood where Mohammed Barakat lived was bombed. Barakat, 39, was killed on the spot. He had been a kind of local celebrity – a soccer player with an international career. He also had prepared in advance for the day after his death. “I am in a difficult situation,” he said, looking into the camera, in an Arabic-language video released by the Palestinian Football Association. Against the background of gunshots and bombs, he said, “These are my final remarks and the last video.”

Barakat recited verses from the Koran from the Surah Taghabun, which deals with man’s fate and with death, and the trials and tests that Allah puts men through. The surah has 18 verses, and in it the concept of Taghabun is mentioned as one of the names of the Day of Judgment. “I ask forgiveness from you,” he said in front of the camera. “Pray for me. Mother and father, you are very dear to my heart. Haitham [his wife], my beloved children, I say goodbye to you. I am done now and ask that you keep quietly praying.”

On the face of it, Barakat could have opted for a different future, at least a different short-term future, says Jawad, 28, a family friend. He said most of the family had fled to Rafah to his wife’s relatives. But Mohammed insisted on remaining. “Anyone who knew Mohammed knew he wouldn’t leave his home,” said Jawad, who was a translator before the war broke out. “Young people saw him as a role model and a symbol of success. He knew that death was near, but he nevertheless chose to remain in his home.”

Barakat’s fans called him “the Lion,” a nickname he acquired when he starred on Gaza playing fields. He even participated in several victories as part of the Palestinian national team. In 2016-2019 he played on the Saudi soccer team Al-Shoulla. Those were his last victories.

Still alive on Instagram

The last word spoken by Ayat Khaddoura, a 26-year-old Beit Lahia resident, who was killed on November 20 in a bombing was, “May God have mercy on me.”

She started by describing what was happening in her neighborhood – the bombing, calls to evacuate, crowds of people leaving (“walking the streets without knowing where to go”). Her family split up, with some leaving for the unknown; Khaddoura stayed with those who remained in their home in Beit Lahia in the northern Gaza Strip. “The sights are very scary,” she said before appealing to God with a trembling voice and then bursting into tears just before she stopped filming.

Khaddoura had a bachelor’s degree in visual communications from Al-Quds University in Gaza City. Before the war, she had worked as a creator of visual content, advertising and videos.

Her last moments revealed her vulnerability and helplessness. Maha also knew her from Gaza City. “She specifically said, ‘I don’t want to be collected in parts and put in a bag. The only thing I want is for my body to remain whole,'” says Maha. “She sounded really scared the last few days and in her last recording.”

Her latest video, in Arabic, was distributed to the principal Arab media outlets. According to Maha, many identified with her family and with her story. In some ways, Khaddoura continues to produce content even after her death. Her family members who live outside Gaza opened an Instagram account in her name, where they continue to tell her story to more and more people.

“Every family member who has died remains dear to their parents, brothers and sisters, as was the case with Ayat, whose sister decided to immortalize her,” says Maha. “That way she won’t turn into another number.”

‘Water and food for the cat’

The incessant news about the dead causes anxiety among those who have survived. The Palestinian writer, Atef Abu Saif, who spent 85 days in the Gaza Strip, describes in his diary the ugliness of death and the lives of Gazans desperate to live another day. He describes at length the cracks and fractures that the death of his relatives has created in his soul.

He recently published his diary, dedicating it to Belal Jadallah, a 45-year-old journalist and director of the Gaza-based media center, Press House – Palestine. Jadallah was killed on November 19, 2023 by an Israeli bomb that hit his house in Gaza City.

Belal Jadallah said he planned to return home before dark to give the cat food and water. He feared that a drone would detect human movement on the roof and hit him.

Abu Saif’s decision to dedicate his book to Jadallah is no accident. He describes their deep friendship and their last conversation before Jadallah was killed. “We were sitting in the backyard of the press center and Belal seemed upset that his cat had been left on the roof of his house when he and his family had left. That seemed to be the only thing that concerned him. He said he planned to return home before dark to give the cat food and water. He feared that a drone would detect human movement on the roof and hit him.”

Abu Saif talks a lot about his friend’s last moments. “When I spoke with him about publishing my diary and my desire to dedicate the book to the press center, he refused to respond and express his opinion,” Abu Saif writes. “Today I understand what he meant by his last look before we ended the conversation and left. He couldn’t imagine himself still being alive by the time the book came out.”

The name Belal Jadallah doesn’t mean a lot to Israelis. But among journalists and press photographers in the Gaza Strip he was a valued partner. A Gaza journalist who spoke with Haaretz on condition of anonymity says he was a father figure to journalists starting out in their career.

“His voice was clear and he helped beginners like me based on his personal experience,” she says, recalling how at the start of the war, Jadallah urged the journalists to stay nights at the press center to protect themselves.

“Every time I remember he’s no longer alive, my eyes fill with tears. He is greatly missed in the professional context – to consult with him, to listen to his views on the situation. Before I moved to the south, he told me to continue doing my work. His words gave me strength.”

Lists of dead

In addition to the 40,000 determined to have died, thousands more are believed to be buried under the rubble in Gaza. Public health experts predict that thousands more will die in the coming months. Even if a cease-fire is called imminently, they explain, Gazans will continue dying due to the collapse of the healthcare system, harsh living conditions and proliferation of disease. Although the Israeli authorities have questioned the death tolls reported by Hamas, experts and international human rights organizations believe that they are reliable and even underestimate the true figure.

How many of the dead were armed? There are different estimates. A statement by the Israel Defense Forces spokesman said that so far about 14,000 terrorists have been killed and arrested. Asked by Haaretz for a breakdown of deaths and arrests, the IDF declined to provide more information.

“[The IDF] is committed to international law and acts accordingly, and in the process directs its attacks at military targets, terrorists and civilians who take a direct part in the fighting only,” the spokesman said. “Despite the challenges of fighting against a terrorist organization that uses Gaza civilians as a human shield and operates among them, the IDF acts to reduce as much as possible the harm to civilians during its attacks.”

It noted that as part of this effort, it had made more than 100,000 warning phone calls over the course of the war, alongside over 10 million pre-recorded phone messages and tens of millions of text messages and notices dropped from the air, warning people to leave particular areas.

The army also noted that Gazans were evacuated from the northern part of the Strip to the south and were allocated a designated humanitarian space in the Muwasi area, in the western part of Khan Yunis, that provides water, food, material to build shelters and other infrastructure. It also noted that Israel purchased 40,000 tents to be used by the displaced population.

“Relying on the overall death count that the terrorist organization Hamas issues through the ministries of health and information under its control, without questioning and criticizing the reliability of the numbers, is a mistake,” the IDF said. “These data do not distinguish between terrorists and civilians, there is no breakdown of the number of people who were killed due to the terrorist organizations’ many failed rocket launches. They include many biases, including citing non-existent identity cards, duplication of the names, reliance on unverifiable sources and more.”

Information possessed by the IDF shows that many on the casualty lists of the Hamas-controlled Health Ministry are in fact terrorists and are miscategorized – for example, well-known terrorists who are listed by the ministry as women.

The IDF declined a request by Haaretz for data or other information that could verify its claims.

This article is reproduced in its entirety.