In the center of Gaza, where bombs fall and blood flows in every corner, a new cohort of journalists is developing. Khaled Al-Kafarneh and Nadra El-Tibi are telling the difficult realities of life during war. They’re creating whatever magic is needed to transform their formerly mundane experiences into compelling narratives of survival and resilience. Their stories reflect not only the destruction surrounding them but their determination to document it, even at great personal risk.
Khaled Al-Kafarneh found his photographic footing in weddings. Once violence erupted on October 7, he was forced to switch overnight into a journalist’s role. His press vest—ragged and slash-marked from day-to-day usage—has become the icon of destruction in his new life. I lost my brother, lost my home, saw friends perish before my very own eyes. Still, I continue,” he said, bitterly describing the psychological cost of his trauma. It’s Khaled’s dream to one day manage to finish his education and go back and live a “normal life.” Until then, he pours himself into documenting the lives being ripped apart around him.
In the meantime, Nadra El-Tibi never expected to find herself on the frontlines of a war correspondent until October 7. Since then, her command of the English language has launched her to become one of the most essential speakers for the voiceless in Gaza. Even as she endures extreme food scarcity, sometimes going days without eating while tending to her patients. The cacophony of explosions coupled with the suffocating clutches of sleep paralysis hardly allow for a calm night’s sleep. “It’s my duty. I love Gaza. I love my English. I love my work,” she expressed with passion.
The journalists’ struggles go further than just their individual hardships. Khaled relies on a small solar panel setup to charge his devices whenever sunlight permits, saying it is “just enough to charge my phone or camera.” In a region where electricity is scarce, many locals have started small businesses to charge phones, reflecting the resourcefulness that characterizes life in Gaza.
Earlier this month, on 7 August, tragedy struck when an Israeli airstrike completely destroyed Al-Baqa Cafe in Gaza City. The attack went on to kill Ismail Abu Hatab, a 32-year-old Gaza-based photojournalist and film director. This incident is part of a broader, more dangerous trend. Since hostilities started on October 7, the health ministry in Gaza has reported at least 58,895 Palestinian deaths and more than 140,980 injuries. In less than half that time, fatal overdoses have more than tripled. In the first ten weeks of the war, over 40 journalists were killed, numbers greater than in any country for all of 2022.
“Journalists have been a target in Gaza since day one,” stated Daoud, a colleague who has witnessed firsthand the dangers faced by reporters in the region. He underscored that the difference has been made by journalists continuing to call on organizations such as the Committee to Protect Journalists. They painted a picture of increased targeting of press vests and tripods while filming. “We’ve seen the blatant disregard of international law, and the lack of accountability and silence from world leaders that has ensued,” Daoud lamented.
Even with these hazards, Khaled and Nadra continue working on the front lines of this campaign. “Even when I’m scared, I force myself to keep going. There’s no choice,” Khaled affirmed. His passion for getting the truth on the record is intoxicating—even if he’ll be the first to warn you about the perils of his profession. “This is my job. Even if it puts my life at risk, it’s my duty to carry it out to the fullest,” he added.
Nadra expresses the same passion for her work as a journalist. “If I were killed, I will not forgive anyone. Anyone who saw us and remained [silent],” she declared passionately. Yet her fierce sense of duty drives her to remain in Gaza. Even with this commitment, she fights each day against the fear that comes to define her position.
