Nour Swirki is determined to find a way out.

However, various obstacles prevent her from escaping. Sometimes, her transport to Egypt, where her children are, fails to work. At other times, she struggles with her heavy bags.

Crowds often block her path, and frequently—most often—she is left puzzled as to why she remains trapped.

As of Monday, it has been a year since fighting erupted in Gaza between Israel and Hamas, triggered by the militant group’s attacks on October 7 that resulted in 1,200 deaths in Israel and led to 251 kidnappings into the Palestinian territory. Since the conflict began, over 41,000 people in Gaza have reportedly died, as stated by the Hamas-run health ministry.

Much more than lives have been lost during this turmoil: complete families, entire neighborhoods, and the rich cultural heritage of the Palestinian enclave, including mosques and libraries. The conflict has significantly altered the landscape of the Middle East. While Hamas’ leadership has been severely weakened, the absence of a negotiated cease-fire raises the risk of a broader regional conflict involving Israel, Iran, and Hamas allies in Lebanon and Yemen. The ongoing war has scrutinized the long-standing issues faced by Palestinians. It has caused pain and suffering in Israel but has also led to its isolation globally. The situation could even influence the upcoming U.S. elections.

For Nour Swirki, 36, a Palestinian TV journalist plagued by dreams of never escaping, the past year has been a blend of carrying out her journalistic responsibilities while striving for personal survival. Tragically, as of late September, at least 116 journalists and media workers have lost their lives, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists.

“My dreams revolve around evacuating as this feels like my real-life nightmare,” Swirki expressed.

As time continues to drag on, Swirki finds it increasingly difficult to comprehend the devastation that has unfolded over the past year. The people, places, and streets she once recognized have largely vanished, overwhelming her with loss and separation.

Two particular separations weigh heavily on her heart as the war reaches its one-year milestone, each holding a glimmer of hope.

They are Jamal, 11, and Alia, 13—her children. In April, she and her husband, Salem, also a journalist, managed to send their kids to Cairo to stay with their maternal relatives.

The family of four has remained apart since then. Swirki grapples with darker thoughts about whether they will ever reunite. “While I am grateful they are in a safe place, I miss them dearly,” she said. “I just want to survive long enough to see them again.”

A Year in Gaza: Displaced Four Times

During the last year, the Swirki family’s experiences reflect a common reality in Gaza.

They belong to nearly 2 million residents—90% of whom, as per United Nations data—who have been displaced internally at least once since the onset of the conflict on October 7, 2023.

Their home in Gaza City was obliterated in an Israeli airstrike, forcing them to seek cover four different times. Like many others in Gaza, they have struggled with insufficient access to food, clean water, sanitation, and healthcare.

They have witnessed the deaths of family, friends, and colleagues, often without adequate time or space to process their grief.

A week before the Hamas strikes on October 7, Nour Swirki shared a Facebook post about finding humor in her son creating soccer game summary videos instead of preparing for his mathematics exam.

Fast forward a year, and she reflected on the same platform, “Every morning, the shock of waking up still hits me.”

“I am aware that life continues in parallel worlds far away from here, yet I feel unable to truly live it, merely witnessing its passage. Time and things move forward but hold no real meaning or purpose,” she wrote.

Seeking refuge in Rafah, located in southern Gaza near the Egyptian border, the family endured living in a tent amongst sprawling camps and desolate fields.

Nevertheless, their shelter offered no real comforts.

No one felt secure.

Jamal and Alia spent their days scavenging for firewood to cook or standing in long lines for water.

Education was virtually impossible due to a shortage of books, and internet and cellphone services were unreliable at best.

Eventually, both children fell ill with hepatitis from drinking contaminated water.

Nour lamented, “There was no infrastructure available. We had absolutely nowhere to turn.” She added, “Our clothes were filthy with no chance to wash them. It was extremely difficult for me as a mother.”

In February and March, signs emerged that Israel was gearing up for a significant military offensive on Rafah as part of their efforts to target Hamas and rescue Israeli hostages.

Previously, the Israeli military had carried out airstrikes in Rafah, which many Palestinians sought shelter there felt were indiscriminate, although Israel contested this claim. On February 12,

According to estimates from the Palestinian Red Crescent Society and various aid organizations, over 100 individuals lost their lives in Rafah during airstrikes that some media outlets referred to as the “Super Bowl Massacre,” due to its occurrence concurrent with the Super Bowl.

“The psychological state of the children was deteriorating. They were losing weight and repeatedly asked us to move them to a safer location,” Swirki explained. “They couldn’t tolerate the sounds of the bombings and shelling.”

However, for the Swirki family, deciding to send their children to Cairo was still a difficult choice. They had been weighing the decision for months, feeling deeply conflicted about their next steps.

As journalists, they believed it was their responsibility to remain on the ground and document the war’s impact on Gaza. Many of their peers had ultimately paid the highest price – their lives – in pursuit of this mission. Numerous journalists in Gaza over the past year have reported, even live on air, incidents where Israeli forces called to warn them that they and their families would be targeted. These threats were followed by attacks. Although Israel strongly denies intentionally targeting journalists, the perception of such intent is widespread among reporters in Gaza.

“These vests and helmets won’t keep us safe; they’re merely slogans we wear,” expressed Salman Al-Bashir, a TV news anchor and reporter for Palestine TV, as he took off his protective gear labeled “Press” and broke down on air in November after hearing that his colleague had been killed while covering a story outside a hospital.

For the past year, Nour Swirki has also sensed this profound vulnerability.

She was particularly worried about the children staying in Gaza, fearing they could be killed, as there had been numerous instances illustrating that possibility.

Nonetheless, Nour felt that Alia, who was experiencing the onset of her menstrual cycle, needed her mother’s support and guidance during this pivotal time.

On April 16, the family received a call confirming that their children were on an approved exit list for the following day.

This unexpected news seemed to make the decision for them.

Nour Swirki didn’t take any photographs of the family as they put Jamal and Alia on the bus in Rafah and handed over their passports. She felt that capturing the moment would be tempting fate and acknowledging the risk that she might never see them again.

She hoped she was making the right choice. Just weeks later, Israel took control of the Rafah border crossing, shutting it down to all civilians as part of its military operations against Hamas in the region.

“I wasn’t sure how to feel,” Alia Swirki stated in a phone interview from Cairo, with her mother also on the line.

“I didn’t want to leave my parents, but I was also relieved to be going somewhere safe and more secure.”

‘I’m going to lose them all one by one’

Recently, Israel’s military has pulled back most of its troops from Gaza, with major ground operations appearing to slow down as it shifts focus to Iran-backed Hezbollah, which has launched over 9,300 missiles at Israel from its base in Lebanon since October 7, according to government figures. In late September, Israel assassinated Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah and has initiated so-called “limited” ground operations in Lebanon to diminish the group’s combat abilities. Iran is preparing for Israel’s potential retaliation following its launch of approximately 200 ballistic missiles at Israel in response to the assassination of Nasrallah and other Hezbollah leaders.

Negotiations for a cease-fire and hostage deal between Israel and Hamas have been stalled with the involvement of mediators from Qatar, Egypt, and the U.S. Throughout the year since Israel commenced its military campaign in Gaza following Hamas’ attacks on October 7, the humanitarian consequences have been overwhelming, with the scale of suffering challenging to articulate.

Alongside the tens of thousands of Palestinians killed, an additional 10,000 remain unaccounted for, likely trapped under rubble.

The U.N. reports that 60% of Gaza’s structures have been damaged or completely destroyed, with over half of residential properties lost. Only 17 out of 36 hospitals in Gaza are operational, mostly only partially. An estimated half a million individuals face what aid organizations are describing as “catastrophic” food insecurity.

Many schools, universities, sports facilities, roads, supermarkets, and places of worship in Gaza have vanished. Hundreds of children in need of life-saving surgeries and urgent medications have been unable to leave Gaza for the West Bank, another Palestinian territory overseen by Israel, or for countries such as Saudi Arabia and the UAE. In mid-September, the World Health Organization managed to evacuate several ill children.

Fadi Abed, a Gazan affiliated with the humanitarian medical organization MedGlobal, has been aiding in vaccinating children against polio. He remarked that after a year of conflict, what shocks him most is witnessing any buildings in Gaza that remain standing.

“This reflects the reality here,” he stated.

The Gaza Health Ministry does not differentiate between civilian and Hamas fighter casualties in its death statistics, but reports indicate that by September 25, at least 6,297 women and at least 11,355 children have died in the ongoing conflict with Hamas.

According to the Israeli military, over 17,000 individuals it has killed in Gaza were militants. Since October 27—when its ground campaign began—around 350 Israeli soldiers have died in combat in Gaza.

The Palestinian death toll is not limited to Gaza. Approximately 600 Palestinians have lost their lives in the West Bank since October 7, as Israel has intensified operations there purportedly to eliminate terrorist threats. Moreover, over 2,000 individuals have reportedly been killed in Lebanon due to Israeli actions targeting Hamas’ ally Hezbollah through special operations and missile strikes in Beirut and elsewhere.

Israel has been involved in multiple conflicts with Hamas and other Palestinian militant factions, as well as with coalitions of Arab nations, within a historical backdrop marked by one of the longest-standing territorial and security disputes, along with discussions on Israel’s right to exist and Palestinian rights to self-governance.

The latest and bloodiest war waged began with Hamas’ aggressive strikes against Israel on October 7.

“I feel like I will lose them all, one at a time,” shared Tareq Hajjaj, a resident of Gaza who made his way into Egypt in April with his wife and son, just a month before Israel closed the Rafah crossing.

Hajjaj, a journalist, has been documenting the war in Gaza as he strives to survive, a story previously covered by YSL News. He had once had the chance to escape Gaza but declined because he couldn’t bring his blind mother, who was battling diabetes. After her death due to a lack of medication, he received another opportunity to leave.

Adjusting to life in exile has been challenging for Hajjaj. He continues to report on Gaza from Cairo, with hopes of eventually joining his brother in the United States. On many fronts, his situation has improved significantly; he can now take his 19-month-old son, Qais, out on play dates or to the pool, and his family has regained many basic freedoms they couldn’t enjoy in Gaza.

However, thoughts of Gaza still haunt him.

“No matter where I am, Gaza is always on my mind,” he expressed.

“Whenever I see a bridge, I wonder: ‘Why can’t we have bridges in Gaza?’ When I notice a road, I ask myself: ‘Why can’t we have such roads in Gaza? Why can’t we live freely there? Why don’t we have an airport or a train system? Why must we, as Palestinians, leave our homeland to feel secure?’”

Gaza has only three land border crossings; two are overseen by Israel, while the Rafah crossing was previously managed by Hamas until it was taken over by Israel in early May.

Too many Gaza stories to recall

Since May, Nour and Salem Swirki have been living in a tent near a hospital in Deir al Balah, located in central Gaza. About 100 other journalists reside in this same spot.

They have access to an Internet connection and other utilities for their work, sharing resources with one another.

At the entrance of her tent, Nour Swirki has attached a handwritten note that carries both a humorous and defiant vibe: “Nour villa: displaced Gazan woman, mother, and journalist,” it states.

Swirki feels a sense of security being close to the hospital, despite the fact that Israel’s military has repeatedly targeted medical facilities in Gaza over the past year, alleging that Hamas conceals weapons or personnel there.

She has witnessed and reported on too many stories over the last year to capture them all in memory.

The memories that linger are often those involving children, some of whom have had limbs amputated, while others are seen on the streets begging for food. Tragically, there are also the tiny, lifeless bodies that arrive at the hospital.

“I can’t imagine how a parent survives the loss of their children,” she said. “It’s a kind of madness.”

She misses her father, a businessman who was in Egypt when the war erupted, and longs for the moment she can embrace him.

Her dreams of escape are becoming more frequent and arrive almost every night.

“I miss feeling safe and protected,” she revealed.

She and her husband stay in touch with their children.

They text and call each other throughout the day, maintaining a constant connection.

“We wake up and go to sleep together,” she noted.

They share updates about whether their daughter, Ali, has been practicing her routines for “Dabkeh,” a traditional Palestinian dance that involves wind instruments and singing. (She has practiced, but it’s not the same in Cairo, according to Ali.)

Meanwhile, their son Jamal continues to create videos about soccer, which he now shares on his own TikTok and YouTube channels.

The family tries to avoid video calls, as seeing each other often leads to tears.

“Sad,” was the only word Jamal could find to express his feelings about being apart from his parents during a brief call with his sister and mother.

Yet, there have also been cherished moments of joy.

On July 18, Nour Swirki’s birthday, a man unexpectedly reached out to ask where she was because he had a delivery for her. Although she was out reporting, they soon connected, and he presented her with a cake.

The cake was adorned with pieces of pineapple and orange.

A paper message attached read: “From the displaced people in Cairo to the displaced people in Gaza. Happy birthday.”

Though there were no candles to light or blow out, Nour Swirki still made a wish. She had two wishes, in fact.

Illustrations by Veronica Bravo and Ariana Torrey, YSL News. Photos by Nour Swirki