March 21, 2025. By Maira Haque.

Imagine you are a surgeon at the European Gaza Hospital, one of the only trauma centers left

functioning in the region. Y our dexterous hands shake as the operating room lights flicker under

the strain of relentless bombings, sometimes occurring as frequently as every thirty seconds.

Forced to operate under unsterile conditions, you lack essential supplies: sterile gloves, gauze,

gowns, and anesthetic medications. Despite these shortages, you make do with what you have,

doing your best to perform life saving procedures on all ages, from infants to the elderly.

As the Israel-Gaza war rages on, this is the harsh reality healthcare workers in Gaza face as they

care for an increasingly sick and injured population while placing their own lives at risk. Several

safe houses for Doctors without Borders employees have been targeted by Israel, resulting in the

unconscionable deaths of humanitarian workers and their families. These attacks point to an

alarmingly clear pattern of aggression and disregard by Israel towards hospitals and healthcare

staff. Since last year, an estimated 1,000 doctors and nurses have been killed in the Gaza strip

and 310 medical personnel were arrested, tortured, and executed in prisons. Every time a

healthcare worker in Gaza dies, it signifies the death of countless patients they would have saved

if they were allowed to live. It signifies the death of their healthcare system. Of the 36 hospitals

in Gaza, 33 have been bombed, raided by Israeli Defense Forces, or deemed unusable. This has

resulted in the senseless death of patients, not due to underlying medical complications, but due

to lack of healthcare staff to care for them in clean environments.

For those who survive the military aggression, they face famine and starvation. According to the

WHO, Palestinians in Gaza represent 80% of all people facing famine worldwide. Despite

ongoing humanitarian efforts, many aid trucks are filled to the brim with essential food, water,

and supplies but are unable to cross the closed border. Northern Gaza is home to 50,400 children

under the age of 5 who are malnourished, 31% of whom suffer from severe wasting according to

the Nutrition Cluster. How do we justify their suffering when food is so near but withheld from

reaching them? Would we feel differently if these were our children instead of nameless faces

and figures lost in the media?

In addition to worries about malnourishment, acute diarrheal and respiratory illnesses such as

cholera and COVID continue to rise in the region due to overcrowding and lack of sanitation.

Compounding these problems is the lack of access to care for those with chronic diseases, such

as end stage renal disease and diabetes. Unused insulin remains in aid trucks and food shortages

makes diabetes even harder to control. It is estimated that over 1,100 patients require dialysis in

Gaza. Due to the war, the last vestige of hope for these patients is the Al-Shifa Hospital, the only

dialysis center left functioning. Due to a growing demand and a scarcity of fuel and resources,

dialysis units have been forced to cut treatment times and frequency, resulting in sicker patients.

One such patient, Ismail Al Tawil, died of kidney failure because he could not access dialysis.His widow described their futile attempts to enter Al-Shifa hospital and the harrowing

experience of being shot at by Israeli snipers surrounding the hospital. Amid critical shortages of

food, water, and medicine—essentials that exist in abundance just beyond Gaza’s borders—one

must ask how long people can endure such unimaginable suffering and deprivation without hope

for relief or dignity.

I want to leave you with the wise words of Dr. Hammam Alloh, a nephrologist at Al-Shifa

Hospital. In an interview with Democracy Now he was asked why he refused to evacuate the

hospital and he responded: “You think I went to my medical school and my postgraduate degrees

for a total of 14 years so I think only about my life and not my patients?”. He tragically lost his

life, along with his family, due to an airstrike on their home on November 11, 2023. Dr. Alloh’s

words remind us of why we pursued our calling in medicine. For many of us, our dreams are

rooted in serving others during their most vulnerable moments. How will we rise to the challenge

of helping those in Gaza, who face death and devastation every single day? Will we become

numb to this catastrophe, or will we amplify the silenced voices of our colleagues by calling for

an immediate and permanent ceasefire?

Maira Haque

2024-2025 NC Albert Schweitzer Fellow

Wake Forest University School of Medicine, Class of 2025

Content expressed is solely the personal opinion of the author.