Israeli soldiers raided a Palestinian home in Nablus, killed one family member and arrested another

On the night between Tuesday, 1 April 2025 and Wednesday, 2 April 2025, Israeli military forces raided the city of Nablus. Troops first raided the home of Karim Snobar in the village of Zawata, on the northwestern edge of the city, to survey the home ahead of demolition. They then proceeded toward the Old City of Nablus and other parts of the city. At around 2:30 A.M., residents of the al-Yasmina neighborhood in the Old City reported the arrival of Israeli forces.

By approximately 6:30 A.M., a group of 10 to 15 soldiers ascended the stairs leading to an inner courtyard that provides access to two adjacent apartments belonging to the Khamash family. They blew up the doors of both apartments, one belonging to Samir (73) and Jinan (63) Khamash, and the other to Samir’s cousin, Muhammad (65) and his wife Manal (63) Khamash. At that time, Muhammad and Manal, their daughter Razan (24), and their son Yusef (22) were asleep on the second floor of the house, the staircase to which is located directly across from the front door. Their sons, Hamzah (33) and Anas (27) were asleep in their room on the first floor, to the left of the door. Startled awake by the explosion, Hamzah and Anas immediately ran toward their parents’ room. As soon as Hamzah, who ran first, set foot on the stairs, soldiers shot him from behind, hitting his thigh. He collapsed, bleeding heavily.

Some of the soldiers stormed into the apartment, seized Anas, who was about a meter from Hamzah, grabbed him by the neck, and led him and the rest of the family into Samir and Jinan’s home next door, leaving Hamzah bleeding in the apartment. Samir and Jinan were home with two of their six children and three grandchildren. The soldiers gathered everyone in one room, except for Yusef and Anas, who were taken to the living room. They were handcuffed and blindfolded, and the soldiers ascertained their identities. After a member of the family managed to call an ambulance, the soldiers ordered everyone to hand over their phones.

At around 7:15 A.M., the soldiers arrested Yusef and took him with them as they left. Before leaving, they carried Hamzah’s body out to the street, where Red Crescent paramedics were waiting. It appears that the paramedics attempted to treat him, but were unsuccessful, and he died from blood loss. Hamzah Khamash was due to be married a few weeks later.

B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i collected testimonies from the family members:

Hamzah’s brother, Anas Khamash, 27, said in a testimony given on 3 April 2025:

On Wednesday, 2 April 2025, at around 6:30 A.M., my brother Hamzah (33) and I were sleeping in our room in our house in the al-Yasmina neighborhood of the Old City of Nablus. On the ground floor of our house, there is our room, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Then there are six steps leading to a half-level above, where my parents, Muhammad (65) and Manal (63), my sister Razan (23) and my brother Yusef (21) sleep.

We woke up to a loud explosion. Hamzah and I immediately got up and went out to the living room. Hamzah went ahead of me. In the living room, I saw that the wooden front door was on the floor, along with pieces of broken glass from the window above the door. Hamzah managed to climb the first step of the stairs leading to the second floor, where our parents were sleeping, when suddenly a single shot rang out, and I saw Hamzah fall to the floor. He was bleeding from his leg. The shock knocked me to the ground, a meter away from him.

I looked over to the side and saw many soldiers in front of the doorway, pointing their guns at me. Several soldiers came inside quickly, grabbed me by the neck, and dragged me outside. They took me to the house of our relative, Samir Khamash (73), who lives next door. On the way, the soldiers hit me, swore at me, and humiliated me. At Samir’s house, they made me sit on a chair in the living room, asked me my name, and tied my hands with plastic zip ties. Then a soldier brought a hijab from one of the rooms in Samir’s house and blindfolded me with it.

The soldiers brought the rest of my family to Samir’s house too. I heard them asking Yusef in Arabic what his name was and demanding he bring his ID card. Later, I saw under the blindfold that they arrested him and led him outside. Yusef had never been arrested before, and as far as I know, he was not wanted. After the soldiers left, Samir untied my hands and removed the blindfold. I went home and saw that Hamzah was no longer there. I was told an ambulance had taken him to the hospital, but he died of his wounds. Hamzah was a handsome and well-mannered man. He loved to laugh and joke. He was planning to get married after the holiday. He had postponed the wedding until his house was ready. The occupation took Hamzah away from us even before the house was ready.

Samir Khamash, 73, a father of six, said in a testimony given on 3 April 2025:

On Saturday, 2 April 2025, at around 6:30 in the morning, my wife Jinan and I were already awake in bed. My daughters Sarah, 23, and Zeina, 35 were in the house too, with Zeina’s small children: Yafa (9), Ahmad (8), and Yaman (4), who had come to spend the holiday with us.

Everyone else in the house was asleep when suddenly, we heard a loud explosion that shook the house, followed by gunfire. I immediately got out of bed. The door to my room flew open from the blast when they blew up the front door, which is directly opposite. I saw thick smoke and the beams from the flashlights mounted on soldiers’ rifles. The soldiers shouted at me to halt. One of them called me, and as I turned to put on my shoes, because the floor was covered in glass shards, a soldier pressed his weapon against my back. He led me through the living room, where there were seven or eight more soldiers. One of them motioned for me to sit down and then demanded that I identify myself, speaking in Arabic. After I gave my name, he said I was not the one they were looking for. Then he motioned for me to go into my daughter’s bedroom, where my wife and daughters were. I sat down next to them

A few minutes later, they brought my cousin Muhammad, who lives next door, into the room along with his wife Manal and their daughter Razan. Manal was distraught and shouted that Hamzah had been hurt. After that, the soldiers brought in Anas, Muhammad’s son, and made him sit in the living room. I didn’t pay attention to what they were talking about because I was focused on Manal’s crying. She had just passed by her son, who was lying wounded on the floor of their house. She was crying and screaming loudly, and one of the soldiers entered the room and yelled at her to be quiet. He told us to turn and face the wall.

My daughter Sarah (23) managed to call an ambulance. Shortly after, a soldier came in and asked who had called for the ambulance, but no one answered. He pointed to the table and ordered us to put our phones on it. Then, another soldier came into the room, rummaged through the clothes rack, took a hijab, and I saw him use it to blindfold Anas, who was still in the living room. Five minutes later, I saw the soldiers bringing Yusef from his house into our living room and making him sit next to Anas. They tied his hands with zip ties and blindfolded him with a hijab as well.

After about 45 minutes, the soldiers led Yusef outside. Anas remained in the living room with two soldiers. One of the soldiers came into the room where we were being held, took a bedspread off a bed, and then he and the other soldier left the house. I felt the situation had calmed down and decided to check what was happening in the house. I didn’t see any soldiers, so I took off Anas’s blindfold and cut the zip ties on his wrists with a knife.

We went to check on Hamzah, but he was gone. The floor was covered in blood. At first, we thought the soldiers had arrested him. Muhammad went out to the street and saw Hamzah lying on the ground near the ambulance. The soldiers told the paramedics to take him to the hospital. Muhammad and my son ‘Amru (35), who lives in the neighboring building, went with them. The paramedics told them that Hamzah had already died, apparently from bleeding from the wound in his thigh. He was taken to Rafidya Hospital and buried a few hours later.

Manal Khamash, 61, a mother of six, said in her testimony given on 8 May 2025:

On 2 April 2025, at around 6:30 A.M. I woke up to a loud explosion. I got a terrible fright. My husband, Muhammad Sai’d, and I were sleeping in our bedroom. Everyone in the house woke up. I came out of my room and saw my daughter Razan and my son Yusef, who also sleep on the second floor, coming out of their rooms.

We heard the soldiers shouting at everyone from the doorway. Yusef went down first. I had to put on modest clothing, but I was so frightened that I could barely see. I put on my prayer clothes and went down the six steps to the first floor, where my sons Hamzah and Anas had been sleeping in their room.

I saw Hamzah lying on the floor near the stairs in a pool of blood. We had our hands up, and I could hear the soldiers shouting, but I couldn’t see them. After seeing my son lying motionless on the floor, I could hardly see what was happening around me. He looked dead. Also, it was clear from the huge amount of blood around him that the situation was very bad.

We were taken to my husband’s cousin Samir’s house. I was distraught. I didn’t quite comprehend what was going on, only that my beloved son had been killed for no reason. After about an hour, when the soldiers left, I hurried back to my house to check on Hamzah, but I didn’t find him. I found a pool of blood, but not Hamzah. I quickly went down to the street and saw my son with a cover over him. When the ambulance came and took him away, I couldn’t stop screaming and crying. I was sure we had lost him. People told me not to be afraid, that his injuries were minor, but I didn’t believe it. My heart was burning.

I went to the hospital and saw him. Usually he was tanned, but when I saw him, he was pale and smooth, like the moon. He was very handsome. He didn’t have an easy life. He worked a lot. I always told him, “Have a little fun, my son. You’re a young man,” and he would reply that you have to work hard in life, and that he preferred to work hard now to have a comfortable life later. And now, he really is at rest and has left us with sorrow and memories.

I found out only later that they arrested my son, Yusef. Since then, he has called us about three times. He told me he was okay. Three days ago, he told me they were transferring him to detention after finishing his interrogation in Petah Tikva. Yusef works selling phones. Until a year and a half ago, he worked in Israel, but after the war began, it was no longer possible to work in Israel, and there are no job opportunities in the West Bank, so he opened a small phone shop. We do what we can for him, and we got him a lawyer. Losing one son was enough for me.

I cry every morning. Every time I wake up and go down from my room to the first floor, I remember the sight of Hamzah lying on the floor in his blood. I can’t shake it. I wish it hadn’t happened in our house. Everything reminds me of him. Everyone loved Hamzah because he was so gentle and kind. Every day, I’d make coffee and bring it to his room, and we would drink together. I miss him very much, because he was so special. I wanted him to get married, and every time I saw a beautiful girl, I would ask him, “What about this girl?” and he would say, “Okay, Mom, we’ll talk about it in a few days,” and so it went, until he was killed.

A few months before he was killed, we received a demolition order for the five-story house we built on a plot of land I inherited from my father, which is in Area B. This house was meant for my children when they got married. It was a terrible shock for us, because the whole family dreamed of the day the boys would get married and have stable, happy lives. Everything was lost all at once. The threat of demolition hung over the house, and I lost my son. I never imagined that one of my sons would die while I was still alive, and right before my eyes. Like any mother, I would rather die than lose one of my children. I would have given my life for him. After I saw my son lying wounded, I couldn’t see anything anymore. My world went dark that day.