by Sanaa Kamal
GAZA, March 26 (Xinhua) -- It was a hot, humid day in July 2021. I was preparing to film a human-interest TV program, trying to pull myself together from the loss of my father two weeks earlier and earn a living for my family of eight.
Then my phone rang.
My eldest sister, 39-year-old Suhad, who had always been fit and full of life, told me that she had been hospitalized due to stomach problems.
When I arrived at the hospital in the Gaza Strip, I found her abdomen swollen. I thought it was a minor illness, unaware that another farewell was already drawing near.
"Don't worry, darling. You will be okay," I told her, keeping my composure. But before I could finish, she looked at me and said, "Sanaa, I'm afraid I have cancer."
Days later, the worst news came. Suhad was diagnosed with four types of cancer, including uterine and liver cancers.
At that time, Gaza was still recovering from a devastating Israeli offensive, one of the most violent in recent years, and the medical system was barely functioning. Cancer treatments were scarce, medications were limited, and traveling to Israeli hospitals was almost impossible due to strict restrictions.
During that month and a half, my sister underwent two surgeries at Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, where doctors tried to slow the cancer's spread. I visited her daily, offering whatever comfort I could. But she was wasting away before my eyes, losing over 25 kg.
"I don't want to die and leave my children," said Suhad, a mother of seven.
She was denied permission to travel by Israeli authorities three times before finally being granted permission on Aug. 30, 2021. We said goodbye to her with fragile hope. Less than 10 days later, she returned to Gaza.
Doctors told us that the cancer had spread too far and become untreatable. "Say your farewells," they said. Days later, on Sept. 17, 2021, Suhad died.
More than four years have passed, the memory still lingers, and my sister's experience remains relevant.
Since the latest chapter of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict erupted on Oct. 7, 2023, the suffering of cancer patients in Gaza has worsened, as the healthcare system struggles under the cumulative impact of war, blockade and destruction.
In a dimly lit ward of Al-Shifa Hospital, the air is filled with the smell of disinfectant. The hum of aging medical equipment blends with the groans of patients lying on worn hospital beds. Painkillers are often the only relief available. Advanced treatments remain inaccessible.
Munther Abu Foul, 47, sat clutching a folder thick with years of medical records. He has colon cancer. Although he has been referred for treatment outside Gaza, he has been unable to leave for more than two years.
"The health situation here is deteriorating," he told me, his voice trembling. "There is no treatment, no proper medicine. We are dying slowly. Every day, we hear of someone passing away. We wait, hoping it won't be our turn."
Like Abu Foul, hundreds of patients rely on leaving Gaza to receive treatment. The Rafah crossing, Gaza's main link with Egypt, has been mostly closed since Israeli forces took control of the area in May 2024. It occasionally reopens for medical evacuations, but departures remain limited.
Meanwhile, local medical estimates indicate around 2,000 new cancer cases in Gaza each year, many at advanced stages due to delayed diagnosis and interrupted treatment.
Hamed Abu Wardeh, suffering from neck cancer, sat pale and motionless. A wound under his chin has worsened over time. His brother, Raed, rarely leaves his side.
"Hamed has been fighting this disease for two years. Doctors referred him to a specialist outside Gaza, but we are still waiting (for travel permission). His pain has become unbearable. The doctors here do what they can, but they lack the tools," Raed said.
Abeer Madi, 44, lives in a tent near Gaza's western coast. Diagnosed with bone cancer, she had been receiving chemotherapy until October 2023, when the conflict interrupted her treatment. She can no longer walk. Her family sold personal items to buy a used wheelchair. "We had no choice," she said.
The destruction of the Turkish-Palestinian Friendship Hospital in central Gaza in March 2025 worsened the situation. It used to be the only facility offering comprehensive cancer care.
Mohammed Abu Nada, director of the Gaza Cancer Center, cited broader issues concerning the strip's medical system: destroyed infrastructure, lost specialists, and shortages in diagnostic equipment and lab services. "Our capabilities are far below the need," he told Xinhua.
Abu Nada estimated that over 11,000 patients are now deprived of essential care. "Hospitals here lack radiotherapy and many chemotherapy drugs. Approximately 4,000 patients have referrals abroad but cannot travel. Between 300 and 400 need urgent evacuation," he said.
Amjad al-Shawa, head of the Palestinian NGO Network, highlighted the psychological toll. "Interrupted care worsens physical conditions and deepens mental suffering."
The pressures are closely tied to restrictions at border crossings. Limited operations at the Rafah crossing resumed on Feb. 2, under the latest ceasefire agreement between Hamas and Israel, which took effect in October 2025.
But on Feb. 28, following the launch of the U.S.-Israeli attack on Iran, Israeli authorities announced the closure of all crossings into Gaza, including Rafah, until further notice. On March 19, an official security source told Xinhua that the Rafah crossing reopened "in both directions."
Hundreds of patients were estimated to have exited Gaza since early February, but many more remain stuck, waiting, with each day fraught with anxiety.
"We do not ask for miracles," said Abu Foul. "We only ask for a chance to be treated, a chance to live." ■
