In this powerful new collection, 27 Palestinians from Gaza – students, mothers, fathers, grandparents, children and teachers – recount their experiences of being internally displaced in Gaza after Israel’s invasion of Gaza and subsequent genocidal campaign.
Published by Haymarket Books, in collaboration with the American Friends Service Committee and the Hashim Sani Center for Palestine Studies, the book offers raw, unfiltered voices from the heart of Gaza’s ongoing nightmare.
A searing chronicle of a people’s suffering under genocide, it is also a celebration of their enduring humanity and hope.
From the start, Displaced in Gaza makes clear that these stories are not mere accounts of pain and loss; they are assertions of identity, resilience and resistance.
Reading the testimonies is an emotionally charged experience, one that leaves the reader shaken by the horrors described within.
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At the same time, it leaves its audience filled with admiration for the courage and steadfastness that shine through even the darkest moments.
For a general audience already attuned to Palestine’s struggle, this book is both devastating and uplifting.
It doesn’t rehash familiar history or political context; instead, it plunges us directly into the lived reality of Gaza’s people, allowing them to speak for themselves.
In doing so, it bears witness to a contemporary genocide in real time, ensuring that the voices of Gaza are heard loudly and clearly by the world.
A chorus of defiant voices
The strength of Displaced in Gaza lies in the diverse chorus of voices it brings together. We hear from people of all ages and walks of life, each one grappling with the enormity of what has been inflicted upon them and their loved ones.
Among them is an 80-year-old grandmother, twice displaced in her lifetime, who now shelters her grandchildren in a tent after her home was levelled.
Despite her circumstances, she still dreams of the liberation of her homeland and a return to the life that was stolen from her.
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Her resilience echoes that of a 12-year-old boy who operates a humble trampoline at an Unrwa shelter to bring moments of joy to other displaced children, even as he fears Israeli bombs with every breath.
His story, one of innocence lost and small acts of kindness, is a portrait of childhood interrupted by war.
Equally heart-wrenching is the account of a young father who loses both of his daughters in a single air strike, one of them on her third birthday.
He describes how he dug through rubble with his bare hands to retrieve their bodies, only to find them thrown far from their home by the blast.
“I spoke to them, but they didn’t respond,” he recalls, turning a reader’s heart to ash.
Yet, there are also stories of survival and renewal. A young teacher, after losing her home and her private tutoring centre to Israeli bombs, begins teaching over 200 children in a displacement tent.
Her act is not just one of necessity, but a declaration that education remains Gaza’s most potent weapon of resistance.
This anthology celebrates the power of the human spirit in a way that few works can, precisely because it lets the people of Gaza speak in their own voices
There is also the pharmacist who, after his two pharmacies were flattened, opens a makeshift clinic in a displacement camp to treat those with nothing.
He dreams not only of rebuilding his businesses but of completing his advanced studies, seeing healing as both his duty and his future.
Across these pages, we meet newly widowed mothers raising children alone, siblings who are the sole survivors of entire families and even Nakba survivors forced to relive the horrors of 1948.
One 91-year-old contributor, after surviving multiple Israeli wars and occupations, insists that this onslaught is the worst of all. Yet, he vows never to leave Gaza.
“We cannot migrate again,” he writes. “We will stay on our land until death.”
That unyielding attachment to land and justice unites all these testimonies in a singular voice of resistance.
Sumud amid the rubble
Reading Displaced in Gaza is often an emotionally overwhelming experience. The trauma laid bare in these testimonies is almost too much to fathom: families obliterated in the blink of an eye, children maimed or killed, neighbourhoods turned to wasteland.
The writers do not spare us the gruesome details of life (and death) under constant bombardment.
We witness scenes that imprint themselves on the reader’s mind: a mother screaming at soldiers to stop as they nearly run over a terrified child during an evacuation; families huddling together under shellfire; a parent describing how “we shared pain in an indescribable way” as war came to their doorstep.
The narratives may lack the embellishments of fiction, but they do not need them: the truth on these pages is more powerful than any novel
There are moments of pure horror, such as when a father, Tareq, finds the tiny bodies of his daughters and later wraps them in blankets because the morgue had run out of space.
These personal narratives put human faces and names to suffering that is too often conveyed in numbers. It is impossible to read them without tears, without rage and without a profound sense of loss.
Yet, amid all this suffering, what shines through most brightly in Displaced in Gaza is the steadfastness (sumud) and spirit of its people.
Time and again, the storytellers insist that they will not be defeated or driven away, no matter how monstrous the assault.
“Our love for our homeland Palestine… and our refusal to emigrate from it have pushed us to stand firm,” declares one elderly contributor.
“We are the owners of this land… and we will never leave it.”
That sentiment is echoed by a 61-year-old man who, after losing everything, spends his days organising games for children in displacement camps.
“If the resistance defends us with weapons, we must also resist by standing firm on our land,” he explains.
Even a child, like 12-year-old Said, continues to tend his trampoline despite witnessing carnage and living in fear.
“I was happy to bring joy to the faces of displaced children,” he says.
Crucially, the book balances despair with hope.
Many contributors share not only what they have endured, but also their dreams for the future.
Children long to return to school and rebuild their neighbourhoods. Parents still envision careers and weddings for their surviving children.
A pharmacist tends to the sick in a tent while dreaming of completing his PhD. A teacher who has lost her home insists that her students will continue to learn, because “investment in education will always be the way forward for Palestinians”.
These expressions of hope are not naive; they are acts of defiance. In refusing to relinquish their dreams, the people of Gaza deny their oppressors a final victory over their spirit.
The power of testimony
What makes Displaced in Gaza so impactful is not polished literary prose – many of the accounts are written in plain, straightforward language – but the authenticity and urgency of the voices.
Most of the pieces were written in the heat of ongoing events, sometimes by candlelight or on phones amid air raids.
This immediacy gives the book a palpable emotional force. The narratives may lack the embellishments of fiction, but they do not need them: the truth on these pages is more powerful than any novel.
The editors have done a commendable job preserving the individual tones and details of each account while arranging them into a cohesive whole that reads almost like a collective diary of Gaza’s genocide.
The result is a text that is deeply humanising. It forces the reader to see Palestinians in Gaza not as faceless victims or news headlines, but as neighbours, parents, children – people with names, voices, humour, talents, and infinite love for their land and families.
Throughout the book, there is a recurring theme that telling one’s story is itself an act of survival.
Several contributors mention how writing their testimony gave them strength or a sense of purpose.
As Ahmad Alnaouq notes in the foreword: “Storytelling becomes an act of resistance, a declaration of our humanity. Through our words, we reclaim our narrative.”
In a world where Palestinian voices are so often drowned out or distorted, these first-hand accounts serve as a direct counter-narrative.
They are a form of citizen journalism and truth-telling against a media landscape that frequently dehumanises Palestinians.
Indeed, the book’s very existence challenges those who would prefer these stories remain untold.
It stands as what Tareq Baconi calls “an archive of enormous importance” – a people’s record that will be vital for future accountability and justice.
Despite the profound trauma documented in Displaced in Gaza, reading it is not a passive or paralysing experience.
On the contrary, it is inspiring. Each page urges the reader not to look away.
The testimonial style creates a close connection: you feel as if a friend is sharing their deepest pain and hopes with you.
For a pro-Palestinian reader, the book reaffirms exactly why one supports Gaza. But even beyond those already convinced, anyone with a conscience will be moved by these human stories.
They cut through propaganda and politics, straight to the heart. As one contributor bluntly states: “We write so that others cannot say they did not know.”
A collective cry
Displaced in Gaza is a collective cry for the world to listen and a monument to a people’s undying will to survive.
Page after page, we encounter tragedy almost beyond imagination, yet also an incredible reservoir of faith, love and resistance.
The emotional impact is immense. You will likely find yourself weeping at a child’s last words or a parent’s heartbreak, then marvelling at the same person’s resolve to keep going.
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This anthology celebrates the power of the human spirit in a way that few works can, precisely because it lets the people of Gaza speak in their own voices.
In doing so, it affirms their identity and agency in the face of an enemy that seeks to erase both.
For those of us reading these stories from afar, the message is unambiguous: we must bear witness.
We have a responsibility to absorb these accounts, share them, and let them stir us to action or at least to understanding.
The voices in Displaced in Gaza call on the reader to remember the names of the lost, to honour their suffering by refusing to be indifferent.
In the final pages, one of the editors expresses gratitude to the storytellers for their courage and notes that through their words, “you are contributing to a legacy of resilience and hope”. That legacy now passes to us as readers and fellow witnesses.
Displaced in Gaza: Stories from the Gaza Genocide will be released on 2 September 2025 and is currently available for pre-order from Haymarket Books.
