Fleeing Gaza City, even if you have to sleep on the beach or on the road: "They will die under Israeli bombing if they don't manage to leave."

Mohammed al-Dahdouh unloads his 15-member family's belongings from the back of a truck onto the sand of Khan Younis beach. With jerky movements, the 38-year-old Palestinian barber and father of five throws mattresses, blankets, bags of clothing, and household goods onto the ground, a gesture that reflects more anger than concern for possessions that represent the remnants of his former life in the Tel al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City. "God is enough for us," he repeats over and over again, his voice echoing across the beach, where thousands of other displaced families are trying to build makeshift shelters after failing to secure even a small piece of land to set up their tents. "Please calm down. For the children, they need you," pleads his wife, Mariam, 35, who sits on the sand and hugs their youngest daughter, Mais, six.

Al Dahdouh's family is among more than 320,000 Palestinians estimated by Israeli military officials to have fled Gaza City in recent days as the bombardment has intensified, rendering entire neighborhoods uninhabitable. The Israeli military, which has also begun a ground offensive in the Gaza capital , has designated the entire city as a "dangerous combat zone" and on Wednesday warned the half-million civilians still in the area to leave within 48 hours. Meanwhile, it has intensified airstrikes, drone strikes, and artillery fire.

“ The situation in Gaza is absolutely catastrophic and terrifying , beyond belief,” explains Al Dahdouh, his voice still heavy with emotion. “We moved several times within the city, but Israeli bombing and death followed us everywhere. There was nowhere else to go but south.” In these nearly two years of war, Al Dahdouh and his family have managed to circumvent the restrictions and evacuation orders by moving from one neighborhood to another within the city, but now they clearly felt there was no refuge possible. “This time it’s completely different,” he says. “Before, you could always find a less dangerous neighborhood or area. Now, the entire city is under fire.”

I left behind families on the streets who have no means to pay for transportation, move south and escape death.

Mohammed al Dahdouh

The family decided to move after a relative received a direct phone call from Israeli forces demanding their immediate departure from the area. When the man asked for assistance with transportation or financial support for the move, the soldiers responded, according to his testimony, that this was not their responsibility. For three days, they waited on the street for transportation, until Al Dahdouh and his brother rented a truck jointly, for which they were forced to pay $2,000 (€1,689), a loan from a friend.

“I left behind families on the streets who couldn't afford transportation, move south, and escape death,” he says. He adds, “They will die under Israeli bombing if they don't manage to get out.” Since the start of the war, at least 65,000 people have died in Gaza, according to figures from the Gaza Ministry of Health, which the UN uses as a reference.

No safe place

The flow toward the southern part of the Strip is constant : small cars, trucks, animal-drawn carts, and people on foot, all advancing along the coastal road toward the central and southern areas. However, this flight does not offer the safety that the fleeing families seek. The central part of Gaza and the coastal area of ​​Al Mawasi, designated by Israel as "safe areas," represent only 12% to 13% of Gaza's total area of ​​365 square kilometers and are already overflowing with displaced people. Between 800,000 and one million people are already living in Al Mawasi in appalling hygiene and safety conditions, according to local and UN sources. This forces the new arrivals to make impossible decisions about where to establish temporary homes.

Al Mawasi, for example, lacks basic infrastructure, as before the war it was primarily agricultural land and sand dunes. “If there's no infrastructure, how are we going to receive thousands of new displaced people every day if we can barely care for those already here?” asks Mahmoud al-Astal, a community aid activist who directly oversees several displacement camps.

The UN estimates that between September 1 and 15, it managed to bring more than 12,500 tons of wheat flour and other food into Gaza, but 77% of this aid was looted before reaching its destination. According to the United Nations, since July 20, less than 35% of the 2,000 tons of food needed to meet the basic humanitarian needs of its population have been brought into the Strip.

The supplies Al Astal has to serve the camps only cover 10% of the growing needs. "The displaced are living in the open and can barely find a place to stay, and they have no real support to help them cope, even for the first few days," he explains.

This is the case of Mohammed al-Madhoun, 60, who has been living for four days on a road near the beach, near Al-Mawasi, with his wife, Rawda, 56, and his son, Faraj, 25. Using borrowed chairs, they sleep on the asphalt next to the few belongings they managed to salvage. They are the most vulnerable among the displaced: those who cannot afford even basic materials for shelter. “We narrowly escaped death, and I was only able to take a few simple things,” Al-Madhoun recounts through tears. “I only got transportation thanks to one person, who paid for my trip in the truck he had rented for his belongings. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had any money.”

We are forced to suffer and endure these hardships, but staying in the north means dying.

Rasim Saad

Al Madhoun, who has been displaced nine times during the war, describes the bombings in Gaza as “terrifying in their intensity.” However, despite the harshness of living on the streets, he believes his current situation is preferable to what would await him if he remained in the northern part of the Strip. “This hell is more bearable than certain death in Gaza City,” he says.

Rasim Saad, 52, is one of those who have managed to create a rudimentary shelter. A month before this displacement, Saad, a father of 10 children—five daughters and five sons—sent one of them to locate and prepare a small plot of land on a hillside where they could settle. He then excavated a small area and built a makeshift shelter with plastic sheeting and fabric. His eldest daughter, Alaa, 28, has moved there with her three young children.

“I'm lucky because I found a place that protects us, even if it's not comfortable and could disappear with the first rain,” the man admits. This former teamster, unemployed since the start of the war, can't afford the $200 monthly rent for 100 square meters of land, so his current hillside location—dangerous but free—is the only option.

His wife washes dishes with water hauled in jerry cans from sources located more than a kilometer away, and the family members sleep on worn-out mattresses in a cramped space. Despite the hardships, Saad considers his survival an achievement. “The fact that these children are still alive is already a success,” he says while playing with his three grandchildren. “We are forced to suffer and endure these hardships, but staying in the north means dying.”

However, many families are unable to escape. Social media has been flooded with pleas from stranded people who cannot afford the high transport prices. Fadi Khalil's post sums up the desperation: "There are no houses left and death is closer to us, but I swear to God I don't have money for transport (8,000 shekels, about 2,000 euros)."

Things will only get worse with the arrival of winter. Families like Al Dahdouh's face the prospect of sleeping on beaches without adequate shelter or clothing, while others, like Al Madhoun's, will continue to live on the side of the roads, caught between the bombing in the north of the Strip and the lack of shelter in the south.