Khan Yunis (UNA/WAFA) – On the outskirts of Khan Yunis, where refugee tents stretch over agricultural lands from which life has been stolen, sits Yaqoub al-Agha (85 years old), on a worn-out plastic chair. The years have etched the map of two catastrophes on his face. He is one of those who carried the pain of the first catastrophe, and today he is witnessing a new catastrophe that is devouring what remains of memory and hope in the afflicted Gaza Strip.
“I was a six-year-old child when the first group of refugees from the village of Barbara arrived. They came scared and barefoot, some carrying their children on their shoulders, others with nothing but their clothes on. They were about thirty families, including Ahmed’s family. They came running from the massacres committed against them by the Zionist gangs. They left their homes and farms and fled to the south,” said the eighty-year-old man, beginning his talk about the Nakba of 1948.
Yaqoub's father knew them, sharing a solid business relationship and an old family friendship, so he didn't hesitate to open the doors of his home to them in the eastern part of Khan Yunis. "Our home became a shelter for them. We fed them our bread and shared water with them. My mother cooked for them, and my grandmother sewed their children's clothes," Agha said.
The man recalls details that now exist only in his memory: “We owned a house in the Jabaliya area of Jaffa. It was a small house, but it was a stopover for my father during his time of trade. Jaffa was the beating heart of Palestine at the time, a great agricultural and commercial city, but everything was lost.”
The refugees remained on the Agha family's land for months, until international organizations, under UN supervision, began establishing refugee camps in Jabalia and northern Gaza. They were transferred there, along with thousands of others, in a scene resembling a diaspora. "I saw the tears of the men as they left our land... They thanked my father and bid him farewell, not knowing if they would ever return to the villages from which they had been forcibly displaced," says Hajj Yaqoub, pointing into the distance to where the tents were being erected again.
As Yaqoub grew older, another chapter of suffering began. After completing high school in Gaza, he left for the Arab Republic of Egypt to continue his education. Gaza was under Egyptian administration at the time. “I dreamed of returning and rebuilding my country,” Hajj Yaqoub says in a deep voice. “But while I was in Egypt, the June 1967 war broke out, and Israel occupied the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem. I became a refugee, unable to return to my city.”
He completed his studies despite the setback, then moved to Kuwait where he worked as a teacher. There, he built his life, married his cousin, Maysara al-Agha, and welcomed his children while they were abroad. “I used to visit occupied Gaza only with a visitor permit, as I did not have the right of return,” he continues. His exile continued for many years, until he finally returned to Gaza in 1994 following the Oslo Accords, which returned tens of thousands of displaced persons. He worked as a notary public at the Ministry of Justice until his retirement.
But the painful irony is that Hajj Yaqoub, who had been a guest in Gaza throughout his exile, became a refugee there after his retirement, in his old age. "The dark days returned, and I returned as a refugee," he says in a trembling voice, recalling the night his home in the eastern part of Khan Yunis was bombed during the Israeli army's invasion of the city.
“My home, which was a refuge during the 48 Nakba, has itself become uninhabitable after being targeted with bombs and missiles. We ran out of it—my wife, children, grandchildren, and I. We had no one but God.” Hajj Yaqoub took refuge in Rafah, at the home of an old friend from the Hijazi family, with whom he says he has had a century-long friendship.
But even the temporary refuge did not last. “In May, the Israeli occupation army demanded the evacuation of Rafah, and we had no choice but to return to my agricultural land in the Mawasi area of Khan Yunis. I carried what I could carry and returned with every person who asked me to provide them with shelter.”
Hajj Yaqoub transformed his fertile land into a humanitarian shelter, erecting dozens of tents. He sadly recounts how he began distributing water among families, cooking whatever food he could, and giving his sons and daughters daily rations of bread to distribute to neighbors.
“I am a refugee today, but I have not forgotten what my father taught me… Dignity is not shared, and whoever wants to live must stand with others,” he says, patting his youngest grandson who is sitting next to him on the shoulder.
Hajj Yaqoub is a father of four boys and two girls, all of whom have joined forces to help those seeking refuge with them. His sons are setting up additional tents, his wife is cooking in large pots, and his daughter is trying to provide psychological support to the children through games and kind words.
“We started dreaming of a sip of water, of a loaf of bread. The crops we used to grow have become tents. Nothing remains,” whispers Hajj Yaqoub, his eyes brimming with tears he refuses to let fall. “The Nakba of 48 displaced people, but the Nakba of 2023 stripped people of everything: security, a home, water, and even the silent, dead world.”
Speaking to a WAFA correspondent, Ahmed Abu Holi, a member of the Palestine Liberation Organization's Executive Committee and head of the Department of Refugee Affairs, said that what the Gaza Strip has been experiencing since October 2023, 1948, represents a new catastrophe in the history of the Palestinian people, surpassing in its scale and extent of destruction the XNUMX catastrophe, not only in terms of displacement, but also in terms of the complete destruction of the living environment.
He added, "The 2023-2024 Gaza Nakba displaced more than 1.9 million Palestinians out of a total population of 2.3 million, representing more than 85% of the Strip's population. Their homes were bombed, their neighborhoods were destroyed, and they were deprived of water, food, and medicine. Tents have become a new, familiar sight, reminiscent of 1948."
Abu Holi pointed out that what is happening is not limited to Gaza, but extends to the cities of the West Bank, which have been subjected to forced displacement, home demolitions, and ongoing raids since the beginning of the war, particularly in Jenin, Nablus, and Tulkarm, as well as in Jerusalem, which is witnessing accelerated Judaization and the ongoing expulsion of its indigenous population.
He confirmed that the number of martyrs in the Gaza Strip since October 2023, 52787, has exceeded 119349, most of them women and children, in addition to more than 900 wounded, while hundreds of families were recorded as completely wiped out. In the West Bank, including Jerusalem, more than XNUMX martyrs were killed during the same period as a result of direct killings and Israeli incursions.
Speaking of the first Nakba, Abu Holi explained that approximately 950 Palestinians were forcibly displaced from their homes in 1948 from more than 531 Palestinian towns and villages. According to estimates by the Department of Refugee Affairs, the number of Palestinian refugees today is estimated at approximately 7.5 million, distributed as follows: approximately 2.8 million in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, 2.5 million in Jordan, approximately 667 in Syria, and 553 in Lebanon, in addition to other diaspora countries in Europe, the United States, and Canada.
Abu Holi concluded his remarks by emphasizing that "the Nakba is not a memory, but an ongoing reality. The Palestinian refugee doesn't just need a tent, but justice that will restore his rights and dignity. What we see today is a continuation of the same project that began in 1948, but we will remain, and we will continue to remind the world that we have a homeland that cannot be erased by the passage of time or by force."
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