47 days with my hands bound and my eyes blindfolded—only because I am from Gaza.
Today marks the anniversary of my arrest, and I cannot forget what I went through, not for a single day.
On January 24, 2024, the displacement camp was surrounded and bombed, killing and injuring dozens inside. We were ordered by the Israeli army to evacuate toward Rafah. I left the UNRWA shelter with my family and we walked about three kilometers until we reached a military checkpoint. There, men were separated from women and children. That was the moment I was torn away from my family—I did not know what happened to them, and they did not know what happened to me.
I was carrying a bag with my money, personal documents, and our mobile phones. I was ordered to leave it and go to an area under camera surveillance. We were gathered with many men. I was forced to remove all my clothes, even my underwear, and photographed naked. I told them I had done nothing wrong, that I was innocent and sick. They replied, “All of Gaza is elite. All of Gaza is Hamas,” and then they beat me.
Afterwards, they dressed me in a white suit, blindfolded me, tied my hands behind my back, and forced me to kneel on gravel in the freezing cold. I was terrified. One of the detainees beside me died. We were then thrown on top of each other in a crowded place. A soldier grabbed me, forced my head down, and threw me into a truck, tying my hands and feet and blindfolding me again. The beating continued.
It was raining and extremely cold. I believe the journey lasted two days without food, water, or access to a toilet, until we reached a detention center near the Gaza–Israel border. The place resembled a chicken coop. They gave us new clothes, tied my hands in front of me, and replaced the blindfold.
We slept on an extremely thin pillow and blanket. Everything was scarce and degrading—even the tap water in the bathroom. We were forced to sleep at 11 p.m. and wake up at 5 a.m. Guards deliberately shouted and turned on the lights while we slept. Blindfolds were not allowed to be removed during sleep. One bathroom for every 100 detainees.
I was interrogated only once, with no charges brought against me. The questioning focused on my whereabouts on October 7 and whether I knew anyone involved. It was superficial, and it was clear the arrests were random. Among the detainees were elderly men and children.
I was transferred to three detention centers and released after 47 days.
I suffered a shoulder injury and continue to receive treatment. I have herniated discs in my back and neck. I requested medical care, but they gave me heart medication instead of treating the injuries caused by torture. After my release, I sought treatment and have continued for a year. I need surgery, but no surgical operations are currently available in Gaza.
This is what happened to me—briefly—yet it is a testimony to what is being done in silence.