Leaving Gaza
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Embassy personnel pose for a picture with some Filipina families in Gaza prior to the actual conduct of the Consular Outreach on March 21-22, 2022 at Al Mashtal Hotel, Gaza (Photo courtesy of the Philippine Embassy in Jordan)
By 10 in the morning of the same day, news that Hamas, a paramilitary organization in Gaza regarded as a terrorist group, had destroyed the fence bordering Israel, and had gone on a killing spree, capturing and bringing back to Gaza several hundreds of captured Israeli citizens as hostages.
Later in the day, Janeth and Mariam were getting calls from the Philippine Embassy staff based in Jordan. They were asking all the Filipinas married to Palestinians living in Gaza if they had any plans to depart for the Philippines. Janeth, who had lived in Gaza for close to three decades with her Palestinian husband, did not feel the need, even confidently turning down the offer of diplomatic passage at the southern border gate of Rafah crossing to Egypt. After all, Janeth had reasoned to herself, these military incidents eventually deescalated.
Post’s Consular Officer and Attachés process civil registry and passport applications of Filipinos in Gaza (Photo courtesy of the Philippine Embassy in Jordan)
Mariam, on the other hand, quickly took up the Embassy offer to bring her and her family back to the Philippines. Everything was terrifying for her, just having started married life in Gaza barely three years ago. She started to pack, instructing her two older children to put a few pieces of clothing and just the barest essentials inside the biggest suitcase she emptied. In a separate bag, as per the instruction of the Embassy staff, she put all her family members’ personal documents. It was Mariam’s husband who didn’t feel the need to evacuate, voicing out what most Gazans knew from past years, that things would normalize in a short time.
That evening, however, Israel ramped up its bombings. It was something that no Gazan had ever experienced in the past. Huge explosions would be heard throughout the night, and in places never before targeted. Missiles rained on the commercial district where many big banks had their headquarters. Even the universities were being attacked.
This time too, according to Mariam, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) gave no warnings. There was loss of restraint in the powerful night attack of October 7, quite a departure from the previous Israeli operations that involved the bombing of a single residence, usually that of a suspected high-ranking Hamas official. It was common talk among Gazans that living in a condominium unit or a building where a Hamas fighter resided was taking a big risk.
As the explosions continued throughout the night, Janeth decided to take up the Embassy’s offer of repatriation. She sent a list of her children and grandchildren, even her Palestinian son-in-law. Initially, her son-in-law refused to leave behind his parents, being the eldest son. But when his parents’ house was damaged after a neighbor’s was bombed, he agreed to leave for the Philippines.
During the next few days before departing for the border, conditions had become untenable with the constant barrage of missile attacks. The explosions were powerful enough to cause extensive damage to nearby buildings. Janeth swears she never experienced such strong blasts that ripped the heavy drapes from their windows or could even throw a person right across a room. When a missile flew nearby, they would feel a strong wind. Thick dust settled everywhere. Three columns on the top floor of their four-storey house was destroyed along with a wall, leaving behind a large gaping hole on the concrete floor.
Distribution of food packs to Filipino families in Gaza (Photo courtesy of the Philippine Embassy in Jordan)
Mariam couldn’t sleep at night. To calm down her frazzled children, they resorted to giving them antihistamines. By day, she cooked and fed her family, but was always ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Power and water supply was erratic, so too was internet connectivity. She kept her mobile phone charged, just in case the Embassy officials called.
Janeth received several phone calls on the third day of the war. Filipina friends living near the northern border of Israel were advised through leaflets to immediately vacate their homes. “I told them they were welcome because our house was big enough to accommodate them even if some of our relatives were already staying with us,” she said.
Then on Friday, just as the residents of Central Gaza had finished preparing their customary special food for lunch, the IDF sent leaflets instructing them to leave at once. The Embassy also called, this time there were instructions on what to do once they got to the southern border. Later, news came that the border had been bombed and was closed. Mariam’s family decided to shelter with another Filipina whose Palestinian family lived near the border. Janeth and her family stayed in Khan Yunis at the house of her husband’s work colleague. Both houses where Mariam and Janeth were staying were packed with other families who had fled the northern and central Gaza.
Waiting for the border crossing to open took more than a month. Mariam and her family stayed near, witnessing day by day the growing desperation of people looking for food to buy, and eventually just making do with hard bread soaked in warm water for meals. Her husband would search for stores that still had any food to sell until there came a time that none was open. Mariam was increasingly getting anxious because her formula milk supply, which was still the main food of her months-old baby, was running out.
Meanwhile, Janeth decided to go back with her husband to their house in central Gaza after two weeks in Khan Yunis. Her husband, having had a heart surgery just two months before, was severely weakened by the unsettling conditions imposed by the war. They had first called up neighbors to ask about the local conditions, and were assured that it was safe to return. At home, they still had some food left in storage. Best of all, there was gas and water. On their first day back, they were able to leisurely eat and bathe. But once night came, the IDF would resume bombings until the morning. There was little rest for both Janeth and her husband.
Israel’s bombs during this war were really powerful. The IDF would bomb just one house, but the whole block would be affected. The old residents of Gaza had never encountered such strong blasts, not even in 2014 when Israel launched a military operation in the Gaza Strip in retaliation for the kidnapping and murder of three Israeli teenagers. Then, the tit-for-tat firepower exchange between the Hamas and IDF that lasted for seven weeks was considered the deadliest open conflict in Gaza’s history. That is, until October 7, 2023.
(Photo courtesy of the Philippine Embassy in Jordan)
To Leave or Not to Leave
The 2014 war had left over two thousand dead, with the vast majority being Gazan Palestinians.Only six Israeli civilians were reportedly killed as Israel’s vaunted iron dome successfully parried Hamas missiles. In sharp contrast, the current Gaza war has claimed over 44,000 people, with over 42,000 being Gaza residents. More deaths are expected even after Yahya Sinwar, a recognized Hamas leader, was killed in a chance military encounter on October 16 this year near the border city of Rafah. Israel’s prime minister, Benyamin Netanyahu, has vowed that its aggression in Gaza will not stop until all the remaining Israeli hostages, estimated at still over a hundred, captured by Hamas on October 7 are returned.
While in their home in central Gaza, Janeth received a call from her daughter in the Philippines urging her to go to the border and take the next chance to leave for the Philippines. Her daughter couldn’t stop worrying, seeing all the news broadcasts about the war. “Carry a white flag so you’re not shot at,” her daughter said. Janeth and her husband then decided to return to the border, and shortly after they arrived, the main road going to the south was closed by the IDF.
While waiting for further instructions from the Philippine Embassy, there were rumors that the Palestinian husbands would not be allowed to cross the border with their Filipina wives. This added anxiety to an already worsening situation of water scarcity and the absence of electricity and gas. Where Janeth was staying, the women and young children were packed in one bedroom, the men in the other, and the older children in the salon. They would go to the mosque to queue for water, and whenever they had to wash soiled clothes, the dirty water was reused to flush the toilet. The mosque and nearby university had solar panels, and these allowed people to charge their phones, even if at just 20 percent battery power. As to be expected, there was a long line of people waiting for their turn to charge their phones.
Finally on November 8, two months after the war broke out, the border was opened. The biggest batch of Filipinos with family members walked past the immigration gates at Rafah into Egypt. Janeth, her ailing Palestinian husband, and family members were among them. They were met by members of the Philippine Embassy, given food and water, and boarded onto buses going for Cairo, Egypt’s capital.
Mariam had earlier opted to stay behind after learning that her husband’s travel documents had not yet been approved. The Embassy staff implored her, for the sake of her children, to take the bus out of Gaza. They assured her that they would continue to work for the release of her husband’s travel documents. Acknowledging the reality of serious food shortages and the safety of her children, Mariam agreed to leave. Her husband saw them off, not a bit optimistic about being able to cross the border any time soon.
Going through immigration, Mariam was seized by fresh fear as border officials diligently scanned the faces of everyone going through. The security checks were very tight, and once again she wondered if she was going to see her husband again.
In Cairo, everyone was checked in at a hotel. The Embassy staff gave the families some pocket money. With this, Mariam and her children stepped out to buy some food. Soon after, news arrived that her husband had been allowed to leave Gaza and was already on his way to Cairo. They were overjoyed. Mariam’s husband arrived with only what he was wearing. After he had seen off his family at the border, and as he was walking back to their refuge house in Rafah, he was called back and instructed to immediately proceed through immigration checks and to board the next bus to Cairo. He did not have time anymore to get his small bag that contained his clothes and laptop. In Cairo, he had to buy a change of clothes so Mariam could wash what he was wearing. He also bought slippers to replace an ill-fitted pair of shoes that he had borrowed while in Gaza.
Mariam’s husband had to take a different flight to the Philippines because his travel ticket, as well as all of the other Palestinian men’s, had been separately purchased through an international organization. The Filipinas’ plane fares were shouldered and arranged for by the Philippine government. Mariam’s husband arrived two days after them; Janeth’s husband and eldest son arrived two weeks after – with a doctor. Janeth’s husband, 59, needed to stay in Cairo to recuperate, and his condition had to be closely monitored by a doctor assigned by the United Nations. He was so weak that even if he was given the green light to travel to the Philippines, a doctor had to be by his side throughout the trip.
For the families leaving Gaza, their only thought was to save themselves from the war’s destruction and death. According to Janeth, “When we left Cairo, all we were thinking of was to get away from Gaza. We didn’t even think of what would happen to us in the Philippines. All we had in mind was to save ourselves. We were not thinking about where we would live in the Philippines, how we were going to live.”
Back to the Homeland
On board the flight to Manila, even as they were heaving a sigh of relief, fresh concerns surfaced as to where they would stay when they arrived. Many got in touch with family members or relatives for temporary lodging. It was, of course, not an ideal recourse. “It is alright to be a burden on your relatives for one or two months. But we all know that Filipino families also have their financial constraints,” says Mariam.
For Janeth, it was difficult to rely on relatives because she and her family are Muslims. “We have our own food, our own customs. It’s okay to live with them for a short stay, but to bring also your husband and children who they had never seen before … It’s the first time for my three sons to come to the Philippines, so they’re still adjusting,” she explained.
While some of the families had relatives who could accommodate them for a longer time, quite a number were facing a blank wall. Out of desperation, they requested the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA) to provide them with temporary shelter while staying in the Philippines. The Embassy personnel replied that their instruction was only to bring them out of Gaza, but there was nothing and no budget for shelter.
Janeth went to Lipa to live with a relative. Mariam went to her mother’s place. Those from Zamboanga, 16 families, did not have the money to go to Mindanao because DFA could only afford to bring them to Manila. Some of these families also didn’t want to go to Zamboanga. Then, someone from the Philippine Palestinian Friendship Association (PPFA) called them for a meeting.
They were brought to the University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City. But it was not a meeting. When they arrived, there was a phalanx of media men: journalists, television crews, photographers, and others. Aside from PPFA, 15 other organizations were also present, all expressing their intention to help the repatriated families from Gaza. Someone was introduced as the organizer, and called for the representatives of the different families to come forward to the long table. Janeth was not there, but Mariam was, although she kept to the back to take care of her children. During the interviews, the media asked the families their stories about life in Gaza, how they managed to leave, and what their problems were now that they had escaped the war. The Palestinian husbands, not wanting the publicity, had quietly left the room. Towards the end of the media event, the organizer introduced the different groups that were volunteering to help. Each asked for donations in cash and/or kind, and of course also gave their respective bank accounts.
Mariam, like the other Filipinas from Gaza, felt uncomfortable with the media exposure. They never expected the media to be present, and they also were unsure about the organizations “helping” them with their own fundraising schemes. Before the media, these "helping” groups were calling for donations, which they knew nothing about. The Gazans had so many questions in their mind because they couldn’t immediately comprehend what was happening.
Some of the families who attended the media conference were brought to the Kalayaan Hall, one of the student dormitories. Others, like Janeth’s family, were lodged at the UP Hotel. Mariam and her family had opted to stay with her mother in Nueva Ecija. The situation in UP, either at the dorm or the hotel, was not ideal because each family had to stay in one room, and had to buy all their meals. The dormitory and hotel did not allow the families to cook in their rooms.
Donations in kind and cash were received at Kalayaan Hall by the “organizers.” Of course, there were also the cash donations that went directly to the various bank accounts of organizations purportedly raising funds for the Gaza families. Goods, like formula milk, diapers, second-hand clothes, and food were distributed to the families, but the cash was not. According to the families, the organizers claimed they were pooling the cash to be able to pay for an alternative accommodation, since the university had allowed the Gaza families to stay for only a month. Whatever money that the Gaza families were able to get were usually directly given to them by Filipino Muslims. Most of the time, the “organizers” would try to intercept these donors and persuade them to instead give the money to them.
Little Gaza of Don Antonio Heights (Source: Kamilah Marohombsar Dimaporo Manala-o and Moro-Palestinians Cooperation Team’s Facebook pages)
Janeth claims that these “helping” groups were receiving supposedly big amounts of cash donations, like what the UP alumni gave. While others who came to Kalayaan Hall to give goods or cash had their pictures taken, the cash donations that went directly to their bank accounts were not divulged to the Gaza families. There were big donations that they would learn from social media posts, but were never turned over to the families. There was one UP student who was able to collect from donors abroad. He wanted to give the amount directly to the families, but he claimed being harassed by the “organizers” to give the money to them instead. He had first refused, but later succumbed to pressure, although he handed over only P12,000 to the “communal kitty.” The rest, he gave directly to the families. It was a time when all the families were scrounging around for some much-needed cash, and the P5,000 to each family was very much appreciated. Another volunteer group had collected P168,000, but the “organizers” took the money, reasoning instead that it needed to be centralized.
Just before the one month’s stay in UP was up, the “organizers” brought the families to a row of newly constructed apartments in Marikina, located east of UP. Before the move, families were asked to list down what they would need in their new abodes. Many of the families had only their clothes, and what they needed most were beddings and a working kitchen stove. The apartments in Marikina were spacious, with two or three bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms, and other standard amenities. But there were no beddings or stoves. The families had to collect cartons and plastic sheets that would serve as their sleeping mats. They shared a stove that one of them, fortunately, had.
Little Gaza's Kitchen at Don Antonio
(Source: Kamilah Marohombsar Dimaporo Manala-o's Facebook Page)
Before the families moved to Marikina, the “organizers” advised them not to divulge their new address, especially to the media. This they found puzzling at first, but eventually realized that it was to discourage donors from going directly to them. But even with such tight guarding, one benefactor managed to elude the net. It was sister Kamilah, one of their newfound Muslim friends, who followed the vehicles to Marikina, and at the right time when the “organizers” were not around, personally visited the families to check on them. There, Kamilah learned of their abject living conditions. After a few days, just before Christmas Day, she arrived at the apartment complex with foam beds, pillows, stoves with an LPG tank each, and food. This generous gesture was in sharp contrast to the “organizers,” who had left them high and dry, and despite the families’ calls and text messages were not seen for weeks.
Janeth and her family was among those that did not move to Marikina. Instead, they took the offer of a relative to stay in Lipa, Batangas. The place was small, and because of the cramped living conditions, Janeth was concerned for her husband who was still recuperating. She was also struggling with the cost of her husband’s medical needs. When one of the student volunteers in UP heard about this, he introduced Janeth to the Redemptorist Mission House in Lipa. Overcoming her reservations about staying at a Catholic monastery, the family moved to the compound of the priests and seminarians. For a few weeks, they were able to relax. The Redemptorists shared their lodgings and food, and even provided for a doctor who would check up on Janeth’s husband’s condition. Her sons even became friends with the seminarians.
Back in Marikina, the families there wanted to know more about the terms by which they were being allowed to stay. How much was the rent? How long were they staying there? Frustrated about not getting any response despite repeated calls and messages, the families asked Kamilah for help. She was able to get through to two of the groups, and only after she angrily demanded transparency was a meeting scheduled. A representative of these two groups reported that they had collected some P2 million. However, after subtracting expenses, only P171,000 was left. The biggest expense was P585,000, supposedly payment for the rent deposits of the apartments that the families were currently staying in. No receipts were shown to substantiate expenses, and neither could they produce a rental contract. With growing distrust, the families asked if they could just be given whatever amount was available. After a few days, these “organizers” came back to tell them that the actual balance was just P35,000. The families grudgingly accepted the money, and apportioned this equally among them. There was no communication from the 13 other groups that were present during the first media conference. It was as if they disappeared into a black hole.
Much later, when Mariam and the other families in Marikina notified their “organizers” that they were moving out of the apartments, the officers spoke of plans to initiate another fundraising round to raise more money to allow them to stay longer at the apartments. When the Gazan families insisted on leaving, the “organizers” could barely suppress their dismay, and even subtly threatened them that once they left, the organizations would not be able to help them. The mistrust had risen to untenable levels, more so when the families learned from the actual owner of the apartment complex that the organizers had not paid for any deposit on the units.
The children of Little Gaza at Don Antonio started going to school in the Philippines.
(Source: Kamilah Marohombsar Dimaporo Manala-o's Facebook page)
Kamilah, her husband, and a few more Filipino Muslims, after organizing themselves into an informal group, found a new place where those living in Marikina, as well as others like Janeth who were facing constraints in their current abodes, could move in. The apartments, located in Quezon City, were new, although a few construction workers were still applying finishing touches. But there was space for a bigger group of families to move in. They christened the place Little Gaza. Kamilah’s group paid for six months’ rent, which was at P20,000 per unit.
Surviving On Their Own Terms
The Gaza families could trust Kamilah and her ragtag team. Any and all donations were directly sent to them, and in many instances, these Filipino Muslims generously shared their own money and time. It was with a big sigh of relief to leave the resentment they harbored for those organizations that were purportedly helping them. “It’s shameful how these people could scam others,” says Mariam, “especially those like us who had fled from war and were able to bring almost nothing. We were victims of war, and again became victims of other people.”
Other groups of families in other parts of the country are being assisted by organizations. Some are big, like the one in Cavite, while others are smaller, with three to five families. The community of families residing in Little Gaza would like to ask the government to seriously explore the possibility of finding them a more permanent place to stay. As an end to the war continues to be elusive, and more bombings are pulverizing Gaza, finding permanent homes for the refugees becomes imperative.
A fundraiser event for Filipino-Palestinian refugees (Source: Kamilah Marohombsar Dimaporo Manala-o’s facebook page)
Many of the Gazans currently in the Philippines regularly monitor the conditions in their homeland. For those with houses still standing, there’s the possibility of returning if and when the war ends. However, for those whose homes have become uninhabitable, going back may no longer be practical. For sure, any reconstruction and rehabilitation plan could take years. Then there is the possibility that Israel will not let them return even if Hamas is defeated or all the Israeli hostages are returned.
As the explosions continued throughout the night, Janeth decided to take up the Embassy’s offer of repatriation.
Aside from housing, having a source of income is also of paramount importance. During the first months in the Philippines, the Gazans participated in bazaars where they sold food they cooked. Some were asked to give cooking lessons. Many of them eventually used social media channels to promote their cooking. While the income from these helps, it is not enough. Janeth, with a sick husband, relies on her sons to find work. Mariam’s husband, who has a doctorate and used to teach at a university in Gaza, has been applying for a teaching job. Their qualifications may make them desirable, but they also need a work visa if they are to be hired. Mariam hopes that the Philippine government will be able to help in expediting the work visas, not only of her husband, but also those of others, and of the grown-up sons and daughters.
“Gaza was so beautiful,” Janeth gushed towards the end of the interview. Then her smile disappeared, a sign that the verdant fields, shimmering sea, and soothing wind that she fondly remembered have been replaced by a more recent memory of bullet-ridden homes, twisted iron bars, thick layers of concrete dust, and people whose eyes mirror only fear and hopelessness. Her four-storey house in Gaza that she and her husband had meticulously saved for for 30 years is gone. Having to start anew in their senior years feels cumbersome. But life has to go on.
Chupsie Medina is a seasoned journalist who has spent decades covering stories for various media organizations on just anything about Filipinos and what matters to them. She is also a communications specialist who fervently believes that dialogue in its many forms helps people live better lives.
