Gaza Children’s Trauma: Psychologist’s Plea for Ceasefire & Mental Health Support
- As a psychologist in the occupied West Bank, I have spent my career witnessing the burdens carried by children—lives shaped by constant fear rather than the carefree experiences...
- It was a plea for help from five-year-old Hind Rajab, trapped in a car surrounded by the bodies of her six relatives, who had been killed.
- For hours, we attempted to reach her, but clearance from Israeli authorities to enter the area was delayed.
Gaza’s Mental Health Crisis Deepens as Children Face Unprecedented Trauma
As a psychologist in the occupied West Bank, I have spent my career witnessing the burdens carried by children—lives shaped by constant fear rather than the carefree experiences of playgrounds and classrooms. I recognized that fear because I lived it myself, recalling the night Israeli soldiers stormed my home and took my father. But even with that personal history, I felt unprepared for the scale of trauma I encountered when a desperate call came from Gaza.
On January 29, 2024, the phone rang. It was a plea for help from five-year-old Hind Rajab, trapped in a car surrounded by the bodies of her six relatives, who had been killed. Israeli tanks were closing in, and gunfire echoed around her. Her voice, barely a whisper, repeatedly begged for rescue: “I’m scared. They’re shooting at us… Please come get me.”
For hours, we attempted to reach her, but clearance from Israeli authorities to enter the area was delayed. Time stretched into an unbearable weight as frustration and helplessness grew. All I could do was talk to her, attempting to instill hope in a situation devoid of it. How do you reassure a child surrounded by death and the threat of violence? How do you keep her conscious and focused when the trauma is immediate and overwhelming?
I reminded her to breathe, to keep talking, to stay awake. Above all, I was struck by her age—just five years old, barely able to tie her shoes or read. Yet, she was alone, asking strangers to save her. As her voice grew fainter, she revealed she was bleeding, from her mouth, tummy, and legs. She then uttered words that will forever haunt me: “I don’t want to. My mother will get tired from washing my clothes.” Even in her terror and pain, her concern was for her mother’s burden.
We lost Hind that day, along with two of my colleagues, Yousef Zeino and Ahmad Almadhoun, whose ambulance was struck while waiting for clearance to reach her. Their deaths underscore the immense risks faced by those attempting to provide aid in Gaza.
Hind’s story is not isolated. It represents the experiences of tens of thousands of children in Gaza, who have endured more than two years of displacement, loss, and violence, with limited access to basic necessities. At least 20,000 children have been killed since October 2023, averaging at least 24 deaths per day—the equivalent of an entire classroom lost daily. This number is likely a significant undercount, as many children remain buried under rubble.
This is not merely a humanitarian catastrophe; it is a profound mental health crisis. Children in Gaza are not only surviving bombs and displacement, but also carrying an overwhelming psychological burden that intensifies with each passing day. Nearly every child is at risk of famine or preventable diseases. More than 650,000 children have no access to school, and over 1.2 million require immediate psychological support. Reports indicate that more than 39,300 children have lost one or both parents, with approximately 17,000 becoming orphaned.
Healing is impossible when the threat of violence persists and essential systems like schools and healthcare have collapsed. Trauma accumulates under these conditions, with potentially irreversible consequences. We are witnessing the psychological injury of an entire generation.
Immediate action is crucial. A permanent ceasefire is the first step towards stability, but it must be followed by the rapid restoration of healthcare and education, with sustained investment in psychosocial and mental health support. Mental health cannot be an afterthought in a humanitarian response; it must be central from the beginning. Without these interventions, the psychological toll will only deepen, shaping an entire generation and impacting the future of the Palestinian people.
Above all, children must be protected from continued violence, because no therapy can compete with ongoing trauma. The world failed Hind Rajab, and it has failed the children of Palestine. But there is still time to save those who remain. The film “The Voice of Hind Rajab” aims to amplify her story, carrying the truth of the experiences endured by children in Gaza and the West Bank. It is a call to action that we must answer.
Nisreen Qawas is a psychologist with the Palestine Red Crescent Society.
