Regional Voices: “Where can we go? Even this house is dangerous.”
The slant is the first thing you notice. Heba Arafat, 47, walks with a deliberate list to the left as she moves through the living room of her Gaza City apartment. The building, struck during the recent conflict, has settled inwards, the foundations compromised. A water bottle placed on the floor quickly rolls across the room, an unsettling demonstration of the angle. “We were forced to live here because we had nowhere else to go,” she explains, her voice weary. Her family returned to what remained of their home after the October 2025 ceasefire, only to find their building – now housing 30 people – severely damaged. Like many in Gaza, they face a harrowing choice: risk life in a crumbling structure, or endure the overcrowded, unsanitary conditions of displacement camps.
A City on the Brink
The fear is palpable. Reports of buildings collapsing, like the one in Gaza City last week that claimed 21 lives, including 12 children, hang over everything. Gazans speak of a constant, low-level anxiety, listening for cracks, bracing for the inevitable. Municipal workers mark dangerous buildings with red spray paint, a grim warning that offers no immediate solutions. Many people are returning to damaged buildings simply because the alternatives – overflowing camps lacking basic necessities – present equally unacceptable risks, breeding disease and despair. The heat of summer and the cold of winter offer no respite. “Where can we go?” Heba asks, a question echoing across the territory.
The Weight of Reconstruction – and Restriction
This crisis isn’t simply a consequence of war; it’s a consequence of stalled reconstruction. According to the UN, 84% of structures in Gaza were damaged or destroyed by October 2025. The territory needs $71.4 billion over the next decade to rebuild, but progress is negligible. Israel maintains restrictions on the entry of essential building materials and machinery, citing security concerns. While aid is permitted, it’s insufficient to address the scale of the destruction, and the vital equipment needed – for rubble clearing, for repairing tools – is often blocked. This creates a cruel paradox: the very materials needed to prevent further loss of life are considered a potential threat, prolonging the cycle of vulnerability.
A Glimmer Amidst the Rubble
Stories like Heba’s are a stark reminder of the human cost of the ongoing Israel-Iran geopolitical tensions which play out through conflicts in Gaza. While headlines focus on political negotiations and regional power plays, it is the everyday resilience of Gazans – their determination to rebuild their lives amidst the wreckage – that offers a fragile hope. The willingness to share limited space, the community efforts to mark and avoid dangerous buildings, the unwavering hope for a future where children aren’t living under the threat of collapsing roofs – these are small acts of defiance, whispering that even in the darkest of times, the desire for life endures.
Source: Agence France-Presse, 22 September 2026.
