“I didn’t want to leave. I simply had to escape death. »
Leaving Gaza had never been an option for Amjad Okal, a 53-year-old retired police officer and father of five. Even during the wars of 2008, 2012, 2014 or 2021. Nor even on October 7, 2023, when the first Israeli bombs rained on his neighborhood of Al-Zaytoun, southwest of Gaza City.
But on October 28, the house next to his was completely destroyed in a single strike: 75 dead at once. Corpses and body parts litter the ground. That day, Amjad made the decision to leave immediately with his family. His house will be destroyed the next day.
“All our efforts, our life’s work, have been eliminated. We have nothing now. Our dreams ended suddenly,” says this man with a generous smile, who wears a well-fitting Ralph Lauren polo shirt.
Amjad and his family now live in a modest apartment in the Nasr City district of Cairo, which he pays US$600 (CA$813) per month thanks to his pension and the meager salary of his wife Rana, a civil servant at the Ministry of Media. in Gaza, continues to collect. Expat family also helps sometimes.
The Okal family is one of around 120,000 Palestinians who have sought refuge in Egypt through the Rafah crossing point. After several trips across the Gaza Strip, she crossed the border by bus on 1er January 2024.
The refugees had to pay a high price: $5,000 per adult, $2,500 for those under 16. Amjad gathered all his savings, sold his car and the few possessions he had left. He also asked his expatriate brothers in the United States for help. To bring his wife, his three sons, his two daughters and their spouses through, he paid a total of $45,000.
The price was set by the private agency that managed this system, Hala Company, owned by an influential businessman in North Sinai and close to Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sissi. A lucrative business which lasted until May and the closure of the Rafah border post.
Welcome… in the short term
Upon arrival in Egypt, Palestinians are granted a 45-day visa by the Egyptian authorities. Afterwards, nothing more. Impossible to obtain a new visa and therefore to work, send the children to school or apply for a residence permit. It is also impossible to benefit from refugee status since the United Nations agency for Palestine refugees (UNRWA) is not mandated to work in the country.
“There is obviously a feeling of solidarity on the part of the Egyptian population towards the Palestinians. But the Egyptian government’s approach is much tougher. He considers any stay of Palestinians to be only temporary and insists that they must return home sooner or later,” summarizes Michael Lynk, professor of law at the University of Western Ontario and former United Nations special rapporteur. on the human rights situation in the Palestinian territories.
This is particularly what explains the absence of refugee camps in Egypt, the government preferring to see them blend into the mass of a megalopolis of 25 million inhabitants.
This loss of status is also the reality of Palestinians evacuated for medical reasons. The latter, numbering around 7,000, are taken care of by the government and treated in public hospitals, but they also lose their legal status after 45 days. This complicates the work of the few international charitable organizations authorized on Egyptian soil.
In her Cairo office, Ingy Akoush, director of programs for Save the Children in Egypt, explains that this 45-day limit is a real problem. His organization supports 400 children as part of its emergency education program, children who could benefit from access to public schools if they had legal status, like Syrian or Sudanese refugees. The question of 45 days also complicates medical follow-ups.
Unable to work, some families live in destitution once their visa expires. As of June 2024, Save the Children had already financially supported more than 1,800 Palestinians in Egypt.
“The worst things in my life”
Among the Palestinians who were evacuated for medical reasons was Amal, a mother who came to Egypt in January to accompany her son Ahmed, 15, who was seriously injured in an Israeli attack (their first names have been changed in this text for security reasons) during which his youngest son, Mohamed, lost his life.
Under her niqab, Amal only has her eyes to express her mother’s pain to the world. In her hand, the phone she brandishes shows the photo of her “martyr” son.
“I saw the worst things in my life, people with their heads torn off, bodies in pieces. From October 9, we found refuge in an UNRWA school. It was in the explosion of this school that my son Mohamed was made a martyr. [a été tué, NDLR] at 85e day of the war. His shoulder was torn from the rest of his body. My other son, Ahmed, was badly injured in the leg and face. »
Amal still sees the image of her deceased son, carried to the hospital in the shovel of a bulldozer. As for Ahmed, he lost his right eye and will have many after-effects.
Far from a land at war but also from her own people, Amal wants to find her husband and her other children who remained in Gaza. She also wants to mourn her son. But for now, she cannot leave Egypt.
Precarious mental health
Beyond the physical injuries, the psychological damage is also present. For some, these are nightmares that take them back to the bombings, which make them see scenes of mutilated bodies and destroyed cities. Others are afraid of loud noises and what comes from the sky. Duty observed this several times in interviews, when Tala went to take cover in the middle of an interview or when Islam became nervous as soon as a plane passed overhead. Even Poppy, Amjad’s dog, runs to hide under a piece of furniture as soon as he hears a plane.
There is also the grieving that could not be done and the survivor’s guilt syndrome that manifests itself in many refugees with these unanswered questions: “Why me? » or, rather, “Why not me?” “.
“For the moment, people are in denial, especially because they are in action,” warns Save the Children spokesperson Omneya Ghamry. As soon as the ceasefire is declared, we will have incredible mental health needs. This will even be the main issue. »
Deprived of school
For many Gazans, forced under the blockade since 2007, education is seen as a window on the world. For some parents, not seeing their children sit at school for a year causes great anxiety.
For Lina Taha, who arrived in Cairo with her family on February 17, it is even her greatest source of current concern.
“I have always tried to give our children a good education. And then, in a few days, I saw them in the war… I watched my children go to fetch water and I said to myself: “It’s not possible, we can’t live like that!” » explains the mother, from the wealthy class of Gaza, over coffee and pastries in her apartment in Nasr City.
It was to give their children a chance that Lina and her husband, Jamel, decided to leave Gaza. A project coordinator at Islamic Relief Worldwide, she continues to work remotely and hopes to obtain a visa to stay in Egypt.
While waiting to see their status evolve, Lina and Jamel enrolled their youngest, Mariam, 13, in a private school in Cairo so that she could continue her education started at the Catholic school in Gaza.
Those who stayed there
For these expatriates, contact with Gaza is difficult. We fear bad news. Many do not dare to call their family, not knowing what to tell them. They don’t want to pretend it will get better, because they know it’s not true. And then, they don’t always have the words to console.
Ahmed, the son of Amjad, the former police officer, is 19 years old. He kept in touch with his friends in Gaza, whom he has not seen since October 7. One of them lost his entire family while he had a broken spine. He will have surgery in Italy, but he will never walk again.
“When I talk to them, I avoid asking questions like ‘how are you?’ » or “what are you eating?” ”, because I know that my friends will not be comfortable answering me. I put myself in their place… I ask them about their work, we talk about politics or more general questions,” explains Ahmed, who had to put on hold his management studies started at the University of Gaza.
Ahmed says he is not in the mood to make friends in Egypt. “When I go out, my heart always hurts thinking about my loved ones there, I can’t take full advantage of it,” he explains. I’m depressed, so I prefer to stay at home. »
And the future?
If for all the Palestinians with whom he spoke Duty the dream is to return to live in Gaza, no one can predict when this will be possible, or even if it will ever be possible.
And since Egypt cannot offer them legal status or temporary residency, all have their eyes turned abroad, where they hope to obtain asylum, usually in a country where a member of their family already lives. But places are expensive and no country is ready, for the moment, to welcome Palestinians in large numbers.
Canada, for example, has offered a unique family reunification program since January 2024. Nearly 4,000 applications from Palestinians have already been received, for 5,000 places offered in total.
It is an understatement to say that the possibilities of starting a new life elsewhere are rare for the 120,000 Palestinians stuck in Egypt without any legal status. Even rarer than the places offered on the Hala agency coaches.
This report was financed thanks to the support of the Transat-International Journalism Fund.Duty.