“I Just Want to See My Children Smile Again” — The Story of Issam Al-Khatib in Gaza

Interview & written by: Farah

When I first connected with Issam Al-Khatib, a father from Gaza City’s Al-Rimal neighborhood, he introduced himself in a quiet, humble way. “I am Issam Al-Khatib,” he wrote, “from Gaza City, behind the Islamic University. I am the father of three children, two boys and a girl.”

What followed was not just a conversation, but the unfolding of a life shattered before his eyes.

A Home Filled with Life

Before the war, Issam lived in a four-story family building filled with the sounds of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, and children. Twenty-four family members lived together under one roof.

“It was a beautiful home, and a beautiful family,” he said. “I lost my wife, and I became alone with my children.”

Their house, once a symbol of warmth and security, now lies in ruins. He sent a photograph broken concrete, twisted metal, and the remains of what was once a life.

“We live in a tent now,” he explained. “A tent that protects neither from the winter cold nor the summer heat.”

Of the 24 people who lived in the building, only Issam and his children survived.

Dreams Interrupted

Before the war, Issam worked in trade.

“I left the house early every morning and returned at the end of the day,” he said. “We had plans. My wife — may God have mercy on her — and I dreamed of the future, of our children’s education.”

Now, those dreams have dissolved.

“My children live in the streets with no education and no future.”

The First Day of War

“I remember the first day of the war,” he told me. “There was nothing like it. It felt like the Day of Judgment, the end of the world.”

Every moment was terror.

“We fled from place to place — hospitals, schools — but nowhere was safe.”

His wife tried to reassure him and their children.

But soon after, she was killed at the school.

“She died in front of me,” he said. “Her clothes were torn in front of my children.”

For 15 days, Issam and the children were trapped, unable to leave, unable to find help. His wife lay beside them, bleeding until she died.

“I couldn’t even bury her,” he wrote.

“She began to decompose in front of me. I was helpless.”

Life After Loss

“Life now is daily suffering,” Issam continued.

“Every day is a struggle for food, for water, even for a chance to wash. There is no bathroom. We are living worse than animals.”

The war continues deep psychological wounds.

“I am broken,” he admitted. “My children and I became alone with no provider.”

His youngest daughter is two years old. Her mother was killed when she was just six months old.

Fear That Never Leaves

“I tried to comfort my children,” he said. “But no one could comfort me. Fear controlled everyone — the old and the young.”

Everything changed:

“From safety and peace to destruction, fear, and death.”

He described the hardest moment of his life:

“The moment I saw my beloved wife dead, and I could not bury her.”

“There is no kindness in war. No compassion. Not even for a moment.”

Holding on to Hope

“Hope,” he said, “is only in God.”

Issam believes that God is the one giving him the strength to continue — to care for his children, to raise them alone, to survive.

“I want to forget the massacres. I want to forget the smell of death. I want a brighter future for my children.”

His message to the world is simple:

“Stay in peace, and do not wish to meet the enemy.”

And then he added the words every parent understands:

“I always want to see my children smiling — not afraid.”

He shared a photo of those smiles. Three boys, laughing and playing, unaware — just for a moment — of the world around them