The evacuation of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians along the coastal road to the southern Gaza Strip has been chaotic. Families fleeing Gaza City carry what little they can on their backs, while others abandon belongings mid-journey.
The Israeli Defence Forces (I.D.F.) issued a widescale evacuation order on 9 September, instructing the one million residents of the city to move immediately to the southern part of the strip, ahead of their military advancement on the city.
About 400,000 residents had fled Gaza City by 17 September, according to I.D.F. estimates. The evacuation, which until 17 September took place along the only viable route, the coastal Rashid Street, known locally as “Sea Road,” unfolded under bombardment.
The Palestinian Ministry of Health reported more than 620 people were killed across the strip since the evacuation order was issued, and that hospitals were operating at nearly double their capacity. Staff at Al-Aqsa Hospital said the situation was critical.
Despite the insecurity in Gaza City, hundreds of thousands remain, unable to leave either due to the prohibitive cost of transportation — more than $1,500 per family — or to the lack of space to shelter in the already overwhelmed southern Gaza Strip.
The I.D.F. opened another route, Salah al-Din Road, for 48 hours on 17 September to facilitate the displacement south, but most evacuees preferred the overcrowded coastal road, fearing the new route’s proximity to Israeli forces.
“Does anyone care? Does anyone care?” asks Remas al-Kafarna, 16, evacuating along the coastal road.
“These events should have ignited the world’s anger, but they pass like a shadow on a phone screen,” she said. “If we burn, they don’t care. If we die, their lives go on.”
“This world is a pit of hypocrisy. Humanity gave up its last breath here,” she said.
Khalil Hassanin was walking from Sheikh Radwan, about two miles northwest of the center of Gaza City. “I don’t have money for transportation,” he said. “The road is really difficult. We can barely move with all the luggage on our shoulders.”
Mr. Hassanin said he had lived in a tent with his family in a refugee camp, until the Israeli military “dropped incendiary phosphorus bombs on us, so I was forced to take my children and leave.”
“My son is injured and lying in Al-Aqsa Hospital. The quadcopter was shooting at us continuously,” he said.
He also expressed a deep sense of abandonment by the international community. “The world is sleeping, people need someone to wake them up,” he said.
“Let them continue their sleep — only God will stand with us.”
In the south, shortages of food, shelter and medicine dominate daily life.
“We came here without even having breakfast. We had pastries for breakfast and lunch,” said Bassam Nasser, displaced from Jabaliya. “A sandwich costs 10 shekels, but sellers refuse old, torn money. Even if you have money, it’s useless.”
The southern strip, already densely populated before the war, is hard-pressed to accommodate the influx. Families report crowding into schools, lots and beachside areas where tents offer little protection. “They ask the entire north to come and live in the south, but there is no south,” Mr. Nasser added. “It’s all rubble. Where should we live?”
“We are humans, educated and intelligent people,” he continued. “This shouldn’t be our life. Just a little bit of justice — that’s all we ask.”