Just before his death, photojournalist Mohamed Salama had bought a new camera.
In October 2023, with the onset of Israel’s onslaught on Gaza, Salama was just starting, recording footage on an iPhone mounted on a gimbal.
He was one of the first Palestinian journalists documenting the genocide to publish his reports on TikTok.
Fiercely ambitious and committed to documenting the situation on the ground, he did not stop.
On Monday, he was killed in a “double-tap” Israeli strike on Khan Younis’ Nasser Hospital along with five other colleagues, including fellow MEE contributor, Ahmed Abu Aziz. They are among at least 270 Palestinian journalists killed by Israel in Gaza since October 2023.
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Salama began working for Middle East Eye and other outlets, including Al Jazeera, shortly after the launch of Israel’s onslaught in Gaza and worked relentlessly to document the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, producing some 200 reports for MEE
MEE’s head of video production, Khaled Shalaby, said he would receive daily updates from Salama, remaining in almost constant contact with him throughout the genocide.
“I struggle to find words to describe this immense loss. I cannot imagine our coverage without hearing Mohammed’s morning voice notes, updating me with everything from the ground,” said Shalaby.
“Whenever a major event unfolded, my first instinct was to message or call Mohamed for updates, interviews, or footage. He never let us down, no matter how difficult the logistics.”
Journalist and filmmaker Hossam Abudan recalled how Salama remained at Nasser hospital throughout the Israeli siege in February last year.
“I used to see him at Nasser Hospital, staying up late at night, always filming,” Abudan told MEE.
“He was still new in the field and was striving for an opportunity. He worked hard to develop himself and persevered tirelessly, often working long hours, determined to document what was happening,” he said.
But despite his commitment, Salama was not reckless in his reporting.
“He never risked his life unnecessarily, and was careful to keep working and not get killed, so he could go on documenting events,” Abudan said. “But no one is beyond being targeted.”
An ‘immense loss’
Salama’s dedication to his work was such that he continued working while receiving treatment in hospital.
“Only when his fiancee, Hala, informed me, did I insist that he postpone the work until he recovered,” Shalaby said.
Despite this tenacity, Salama treated his subjects with extreme sensitivity. “He was deeply focused on telling the stories of his people with kindness and care,” Shalaby said.
But Salama’s reporting was also unapologetic, sparing his audience no detail about the horrors on the ground.
His Instagram is full of harrowing images of the impact of the genocide in Gaza, including skeletal bodies, wounded and malnourished babies, and children covered in rashes and fungal infections.
In one grim image, the remains of journalist Marwa Muslim and her family lie alongside her press vest.
In a particularly raw interview just two weeks before his death, a woman from the Morag near Khan Younis howls at the camera as she describes trying to feed her children amid Israel’s siege on Gaza.
Shalaby recalled how Salama and Asfour worked tirelessly to track down a 13-year-old Palestinian boy who was featured in a cancelled BBC documentary and had faced harassment over his role in narrating the film.

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Salama and Asfour spent a week trying to find the film’s participants and persuading them to share their stories. Mohamed had to travel across dangerous areas in Gaza to meet Abdullah al-Yazuri, the boy featured in the documentary.
“He insisted on doing it, and in the end, we published Abdullah’s first reaction to the BBC decision – an exclusive that only Middle East Eye was able to secure,” Shalaby said.
For another story about Abdulrahim ‘Amir’ al-Jarabe, a 10-year-old killed at an aid site run by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, Salama and Asfour spent two weeks combing every hospital and morgue in Gaza to identify the child.
“They went through every record of children named Amir who had been killed during that period, comparing photographs and footage. Mohammed went through every image and clip, sending them to me so we could verify,” Shalaby said.
“Step by step, we followed new leads until we confirmed Amir’s real name, identity, and family. That work not only uncovered the truth but also gave his family answers about what happened to their child.”
‘A truth we refuse to let die’
Salama’s life was cut short before he could marry his fiancee, fellow journalist and video producer, Hala Asfour. Together, the pair forged a team of reporters in southern Gaza.
“Mohamed and Hala were at the heart of our daily coverage,” said Shalaby, “from famine and starvation to the suffering of civilians across Gaza. Their persistence, courage, and dedication are what real journalism looks like. They are the true heroes of this work.”
‘We write amidst death, documenting the suffering so it is not forgotten’
– Mohammed Salama
Beyond their professional collaboration, their relationship provided some refuge from the horrors they were painstakingly documenting.
In a post on Instagram announcing their engagement, accompanied by footage of the pair walking hand in hand through the ruins of Khan Younis, it said: “Despite the war and what distress and anxiety has come upon us, we give each other safety.”
In a post on Facebook, journalist Wa’ad AboZaher described how the couple would drink a cup of coffee with her in the mornings. She recalled a conversation with Asfour, in which she asked her: “Why do we find love during war?”
Asfour replied with a laugh: “Because we’re unlucky.”
Then she said, “If nothing can save us from death, then let love at least save us from life, my friend.”
Like all Gaza’s journalists, Salama’s reporting came at great personal cost. His last Instagram post, published on World Press Freedom Day, reads: “Journalism is not a profession – it is pain. We write amidst death, documenting the suffering so it is not forgotten.
“In every word, there is a soul fading, and a truth we refuse to let die.”