A Shadow of Hope: Inside al-Shifa Hospital Amid Gaza’s Deepening Crisis:

In the heart of Gaza City, al-Shifa Hospital—once the largest and most advanced medical facility in the region—is barely recognizable today. Once bustling with doctors, nurses, and patients, the hospital has become a place of fear, exhaustion, and unimaginable loss. Its halls echo with suffering, and its remaining staff cling to the last threads of hope, treating the wounded under bomb blasts and flashlight beams. A senior doctor at al-Shifa describes walking into the hospital as stepping back in time—to October 2023—when the building overflowed with casualties each day. Then, despite the horror, there were medical supplies, working generators, and a full medical team. Today, al-Shifa is running on empty. Parts of the hospital lie in ruins. Fuel is almost gone, staff are critically short, and water is no longer safe to drink. “The medical staff are exhausted and starved,” the doctor said. “Earlier this week, I worked an 18-hour shift with nothing to eat but a single can of tuna.” The hospital has been struck multiple times during the war. After major parts of it were destroyed, the outpatient clinic was converted into an emergency ward. A portion of the surgery department now serves as an improvised intensive care unit for bedridden patients. But without adequate equipment or staff, even the most basic care is a struggle. Despite everything, a few doctors and nurses have returned, determined to serve. But the needs far outweigh the resources. Electricity cuts out regularly, putting ventilators and surgeries at risk. Medical supplies are nearly gone. Many patients come in with devastating injuries—missing limbs, blinded eyes—and there’s little the team can do. Now, another danger looms: forced evacuation. The staff has received no clear instructions about where to go or how to safely transport critical patients, some of whom would likely die if moved. “We’re preparing what we can—sorting medical files, listing transport priorities—but it only deepens the despair,” the doctor said. “We have no idea where we’d go, or how. And what happens to the people left behind?” The only other hospital still partially operating nearby, al-Ahli, is in even worse condition. It has also been attacked repeatedly, and bombings around it are frequent. If al-Shifa is forced to shut down, it would leave Gaza City with no meaningful access to emergency care—a death sentence for many who remain. This wouldn’t be the first time al-Shifa faced such a moment. In November 2023, staff were ordered to evacuate. They stayed until Israeli forces stormed the hospital, forcing hundreds—including medical workers—to walk south on foot. When the doctor returned last month, the damage was overwhelming. The pain worsened upon learning that several colleagues had been killed in the months since—at least three female nurses among them. Today, as the hospital faces another possible evacuation, the emotional toll is immense. “This hospital is not just a workplace,” the doctor says, “it’s a refuge, a last resort. The idea of it being emptied and possibly destroyed again is heartbreaking.” And yet, they persist. In the face of collapse, the staff continue to dress wounds under phone lights and operate amid the sounds of shelling. They offer comfort where they can, shielding patients from the full weight of their own anxiety. Their work is not just medical—it’s a quiet act of resistance, of humanity. “We owe it to our people,” the doctor says. “To show that even in the worst horrors, we will not abandon them. We will keep going, for as long as we can.

NEWS