SHATI REFUGEE CAMP, GAZA – One of the crowded displacement camps of Gaza, within the hard tent in Shakti, 30-year-old Ranim Abu al-Esh cares about his sisters Ashil, 51, and Afaf, 33.
They sit close to Ranim, sometimes laugh and the cry of children playing too loudly.
Asel and AFAF suffer from abdominal disease and intellectual disabilities that weaken their speech, understanding and behavior – the conditions that are only under the pressure of war and displacement.
Ranim explains that they struggle to express themselves, often immersed in their environment. Although she is unaware of her condition, the symptoms sometimes reflect the tooret syndrome.
‘People laugh, it will devastate them’
The cramped tent shelves seven family members: Ranim, her two sisters, her elderly parents and another sister with her husband.
Ranim’s mother is weak, and her father is still recovering in Israel’s relentless battle against Gaza, carrying only Ranim’s care.
Eight months ago, the family lived in Block 2 of Jabalia Camp until Israel destroyed their house. Since then, he has gone to the United Nations School, which has been crowded with relatives’ homes, and then a crowded United Nations.
Now they are in this tent, which increases the heat by noon and allows the bitter cold seap through its thin walls at night.
Privacy and dignity are impossible in a crowded tabernacle. “When they need to change, we try to put out others,” says Ranim. “But it is not always possible.”
Yet it is a part of the ordeal of the AFAF and AFAF, which they threaten every day due to their conditions.
“People don’t understand what my sisters do,” says Ranim softly. “They think they are better and judge by appearing. But they are not. They need care, patience, dignity.”
Life in the camp sinks asle. “She is struggling to deal with noise or sudden changes,” Ranim explains. “When that happens, she is disturbed – she shouts, cries, and sometimes hitting.”
AFAF, meanwhile, fights with anaich ARY movements and sudden behavior. “A small argument or loud voice triggers her,” says Ranim.
“She doesn’t know how to control it,” she says, which often makes the AFAF a mockery, especially children.
Using communal bathrooms can bring repeated shame. “Every bathroom visit becomes a trick. People laugh, make cruel remarks and it destroys them,” says Ranim.
Israel took their protector
Six months ago, a big blow of the family came when Ranem’s 22 -year -old brother Mohammed was taken by Israel.
Kamal Advan had gone to the hospital for surgery after Mohammed’s hand injury. While he was there, Israel raided the hospital on October 25 and seized Mohammed. Since then, the family knows nothing about the place he is.
Mohammed was more proficient in navigating the outside world. “He got his medicines, managed to manage hospital visits, and dealt with aid agencies, explains Ranim. “Without him, we are completely alone.”
After his arrest, the sisters face a lack of deteriorating food and lack of medical care. “He was his guardian,” says Raneem, her voice breaks. “Now we have no one.”
Between March and May, the intense bomb blasts again evacuated 436,000 Palestinians, for the second, third or fourth time after the start of the War of October 2023. For families like Ranim – already in tents or asylum – every new violence waves begin again, frequently without food or.
For Asil and AFAF, basic nutrition is also threatened. Celiac sufferers cannot eat gluten, which can damage their small intestine.
In a gaza, which is a little hungry to eat, ranim sisters have no chance of finding vegetables or meat, especially Mohammed.
Without glue -free flour, Aseel and AFAF pose a risk of severe malnutrition, and they have received a small amount of 80 tonnes of glue -free flour, which has been delivered to Gaza so far.
Most of it is blocked by closed borders, damaged roads and broken distribution systems. “It is a little too expensive or late to reach us,” says Ranim.
Begging for Paradise, again and again
Prior to the war, Ashil and AFAF had regular medical care at Kamal Advan Hospital.
Their conditions require a special diet, Ation Shadhi and regular treatment, now it is impossible to meet.
Psychologist Dr. Ra Al-Wahidi says the war on the brink of disabled people in Gaza has worsened.
“We have seen that the disabled people were separated from displaced areas (in their families) – some have been missing for a long time, the sadness has died later,” he explains.
According to a report 2025, at least 15 percent of the displaced population of Gaza live in disability, and they need to navigate temporary shelters, in the camps, schools or hospitals, there is a lack of original access, adjacent toilets and original access.
Ranim also fights social stigma, and despite his efforts – talking to neighbors, getting support from the community elders – ignorance continues.
“People will instigate them, mock them. We understand what we ask,” he says.
Some seniors occasionally invite their tents to meet the sisters, with no rest moments in everyday reality, where they have no consistent medical or social support.
“We have moved from Jabalia to west, then to Gaza city,” Ranim explains. “Every new place, we have to start, explain their condition. We beg for patience.
They appeal to “these are not just war victims.”
“They are the weakest people who have forgotten from the world.”
