Farhaneh Abu Hajaj, mother of five

I live with my husband and our five children in Gaza’s Juhor a-Dik neighborhood, which is about two kilometers from the eastern border with Israel. We live in a two-story building that has three apartments. We live on the first floor, in a four-room apartment. My husband’s brother Saleh, his wife, and their son and daughter live in the other apartment on the same floor. My husband’s sister, Majda, 35, and his mother, Raya Salameh Abu Hajaj, 64, lived in an apartment on the ground floor. My husband’s brother Majed lives next door with his wife and their six children.

On 27 December 2008, Israeli warplanes suddenly began to bomb Gaza. We stayed inside the house and did not go out, except for my husband, who continued working. His job is growing tomatoes on land north of our house.

During the first week of the war, it was quiet in our area. There was no bombing because our area has no government buildings, army posts, institutions, or other targets. It is an agricultural area with citrus and olive groves. There aren’t many residents, only about ten houses.
On Saturday, 3 January, we heard intense bombing and became very frightened. My husband’s brothers Majed and Saleh were not at home. We gathered in an interior room on the ground floor, on the southern side of the house.

There was no electricity , and we sat, with candles lit, in fear and anxiety. All the children were  crying out of fear. Around 5:30 A.M. on 4 January 2009,, we said morning prayers and about half an hour later, I heard a loud blast that shook the house. The house filled with dense dust. Manar, 13, Majed’s daughter, was injured in the hand.

We went outside, so the soldiers would see us and know civilians were there. My mother-in-law, an old woman who needs help walking, could not leave the house quickly. Her daughter, Majda, helped her. It took them about ten minutes to go outside. We all stood behind the house for about fifteen minutes, crying and frightened.

Then we walked to the house of our neighbor, Muhammad al-‘Abd a-Safdi, which was about 200 meters east of our house. We remained there until noon, when Majed called and said the army had ordered residents to leave the houses and walk to the town centers. He told my husband that he had called the Red Cross and asked them to come and help us get out of the area, but they said they were only evacuating wounded and bodies of the dead, and that they couldn’t help.

Majed suggested that we go out with white flags and walk toward Saleh a-Din Street, and from there to the center of Gaza City. We left the house along with the Safdi family. We were a total of thirty-one people. Ahmad a-Safdi, 25, waved a white flag. I was behind him with Majda, who was also waving a white flag, and the others walked behind us.

We walked westward about 250 meters, where we saw dozens of tanks further down the road, on the right-hand side. They were about 150 meters from us. One of them moved and aimed its cannon at us. At that moment, Muhammad a-Safdi, Ahmad’s son, and the children sat on the ground, fearing the tanks would fire at us. Ahmad and Majda waved white flags, so the soldiers would see us. Suddenly, they opened fire at us, and we began to run eastward.

My mother-in-law, who is sixty-four, was behind us because she couldn’t run. While I ran, I saw Majda on the ground. I thought she was lying there so she wouldn’t be hit by the gunfire. I said to her, “Get up! Get up!”, but she didn't move. I finally realized she had been killed by the gunfire. Then I helped my mother-in-law to walk. Muhammad a-Safdi also helped.

East of our house are two rooms made of tin. We went inside and stayed there for ten minutes or so. My mother-in-law’s hand was bleeding, and Muhammad bandaged the wound. Less than five minutes later, he told us she was dead. There was intensive gunfire, and Muhammad suggested that we go to his house. We walked there and left my mother-in-law on the ground.

My husband called his brother Majed and asked him to call the Red Cross to come and evacuate his mother and sister, Majda, but they said they couldn’t get through. We sat in the stairwell of Muhammad’s house in the dark and without food or water. It was a horrible situation.

The next afternoon, 5 January, we decided to leave the house. We walked about one and a half kilometers to the house of friends of ours, the Abu Taher family. We remained there for an hour and then an ambulance from the Rescue Services came and took us to al-Aqsa Hospital, in Deir al-Balah. We were discharged the same day, and each family went to stay with relatives.

Majed called lots of times to the various rescue forces and asked them to evacuate the two bodies, but they remained on the ground until the war ended, on 18 January 2009. Majda’s body was crushed. Apparently, a tank had run over it.

When we returned to our neighborhood, we saw Majed’s house had been demolished, as were the houses of Muhammad a-Safdi, Faiz Heji, and Isma’il Daghash. The army also flattened some of the farmland.

Farhaneh 'Abd al-'Azim Hammad Abu Hajaj, 32 is a mother of five children, a homemaker and a resident of Juhor a-Dik in central Gaza Strip. Her testimony was given to Muhammad Sabah at the witness's house on 20 April 2009.