Khan Younis, Gaza – Yazan Musleh, a 13-year-old, is lying in a hospital bed set up in a tent at Nasser Hospital, with a large white bandage visible on his skinny torso, as his t-shirt has been pulled up.
Next to him, his father, Ihab, appears anxious and shaken by the traumatic morning he and his sons experienced on Sunday when Israeli forces opened fire on a large group of people seeking aid from the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), which is backed by the United States.
Ihab, 40, had taken Yazan and his 15-year-old brother, Yazid, from their shelter in al-Mawasi, Khan Younis, to a distribution point run by GHF.
They set forth before dawn, walking for about an hour and a half to reach the al-Alam Roundabout near the distribution site.
Concerned about the large crowd of hungry individuals, Ihab instructed his sons to wait for him on a hill near the GHF gates.
“When I looked back over the hill, I saw several tanks nearby,” he recalls, feeling a wave of anxiety. “What if they opened fire? I prayed for our safety.”
As the crowd drew closer to the gates, heavy gunfire erupted from all sides.
“I was terrified. I quickly looked back at my sons and saw Yazan get shot and fall,” he remembers.
Yazid, who is also sitting next to Yazan in the hospital, recounts the terrifying moments.
“We were on the hill as Dad told us, and suddenly, the tanks started firing,” he explains. “My brother was hit in the stomach right away.”
“I saw his intestines come out – it was horrifying. Then people rushed him to the hospital using a donkey cart.”
At the gates, Ihab struggled to reach his sons, fighting against the crowd while dodging bullets.
“Shooting was coming from everywhere – from tanks and quadcopters,” he says.
“I saw people helping my son, eventually pulling him away.”
Once he broke free from the crowd, Ihab ran as fast as his weak body could manage toward Nasser Hospital, praying Yazan would be taken there. It felt like forever, he recalls.
At Nasser Hospital, he discovered that Yazan was in surgery.
“I finally exhaled. I thanked God he was alive. I had completely lost hope,” he says.
The bullet that struck Yazan had pierced his intestines and spleen, and doctors indicated that he requires extensive treatment.
His mother, Iman, is by his side, lamenting why anyone would shoot at those simply trying to find food. She and Ihab have five children, the youngest being a seven-month-old girl.
“I went out to find food for my children. Hunger is destroying us,” Ihab says.
“These aid distributions are often degrading and humiliating – but we are desperate. I’m desperate because my children are starving, and yet we are shot at?”
He recounts trying to seek aid before but returning empty-handed both times.
“The first time, there was a deadly stampede. We barely made it out alive. This time, my son was hurt and once again… nothing,” he states.
Yet he knows he must keep trying.
“I’ll risk everything for my family. Either I return alive or I die. I’m desperate. Hunger is killing us.”
The group distributing aid
The GHF, promoted as a neutral humanitarian entity, was established in early 2025 and employs private US military contractors to ensure the security at distribution sites.
Jake Wood, the head of GHF, resigned two days before the distribution began, voicing concerns about the organization’s impartiality and adherence to humanitarian principles.
Five days later, on May 30, the Boston Consulting Group, which was involved in the planning and implementation of the foundation, withdrew its team and severed ties with GHF.
International aid organizations have widely condemned the methods employed by GHF.
‘We went looking for food for our hungry children’
Nearby in the tent ward is Mohammed al-Homs, 40, a father of five.
He had also ventured out early on Sunday to try to find food for his family, but just after arriving at the al-Alam Roundabout, “I was shot twice – once in the leg and once in the mouth, shattering my front teeth,” he says.
“I collapsed, surrounded by injured and dead. Everyone was screaming and fleeing. Gunfire was coming from tanks, with drones everywhere. It felt like the end of the world.”
He lay bleeding on the ground for what seemed like an hour, as medical teams were unable to reach the injured.
Eventually, news spread that the gates had opened for food distribution, and those who could move began heading toward the center.
It was only at that point that the wounded could finally be transported to a nearby medical point.
“This was my first attempt to get aid, and it will be my last,” Mohammed states.
“I never expected I’d have to survive after searching for food for my hungry children, only to face drones and tanks.”
‘I never imagined I’d face death for a box of food’
In the tent is Khaled al-Lahham, 36, who had successfully obtained aid on the distribution’s first day and attempted to try again on Sunday.
He is responsible for 10 family members: his parents, one aunt, and seven siblings, all of whom are living in tents in al-Mawasi.
That morning, he managed to ride with five friends as close as possible to the al-Alam Roundabout.
As the distribution time drew near, the group started to exit the vehicle.
“Suddenly, there was intense gunfire, and people were screaming. I felt a sharp pain in my leg – a bullet had gone right through my thigh,” recalls Khaled, who had not fully exited the car.
“I was screaming and bleeding as chaos erupted around me. The shooting was uncontrollable,” he recounts. “There were tanks, quadcopters – fire from every direction.”
Injured, Khaled couldn’t leave the car and stayed put until one of his friends returned to drive him to the hospital.
“I never thought I’d come face-to-face with death for just a box of food,” Khaled remarks.
“If they don’t intend to distribute the aid, why deceive people and harm them like this?
“This is all planned. They humiliate us, degrade us, then kill us – for food?”
