Shifa hospital: A theatre of Gaza tragedies

During the conflict, many of the dead and wounded have passed through Shifa

As Ahmed Bulbul’s body is brought into the emergency room at Gaza’s Shifa hospital, a father standing nearby clamps his hand over his little boy’s eyes. Bulbul’s leg has been ripped open by shrapnel, and the exposed flesh wobbles as he is taken into the chaotic emergency room at the Gaza City hospital.

He is dead, despite his younger brother protesting loudly through his tears that this is impossible. All the medics can do is place Bulbul into a cream- coloured plastic body bag and write his name, age and home district on it in red marker.

During the 18 days of the latest conflict between Israel and the Hamas movement in Gaza, many of the dead and wounded have passed through Shifa.

At the hospital’s emergency room, wave upon wave of Palestinians arrive in ambulances and civilian cars. Outside, a phalanx of jittery policemen in blue camouflage uniforms tries to keep desperate relatives and curious onlookers away, and to herd photographers and cameramen behind a barricade. Inside the blue doors, a triage area of several beds awaits arrivals. But for many, like Bulbul, there is nothing medics can do except issue a death ticket to be attached to the body bag before it is wheeled to the morgue.

The pace is exhausting, and for newly- graduated doctor Mohammed Abu Haibar, everything is new and a little startling. The 24- year- old graduated just two months ago, and is doing his internship at Shifa in the midst of Gaza’s third conflict in less than six years.

“I heard about the previous two wars, but I wasn’t here in the hospital, so this is my first experience and it was really bad to me, to be honest,” Abu Haibar says.

“Emotionally it was really hard — you see a lot of crying, injuries, injured families.”

Tragedies are played out on every floor of the hospital. In the paediatric ward, 10- year- old Shahed alAraeer is waiting to hear from doctors about the piece of shrapnel that burrowed into her head through her left ear, where she displays a small scab.

Her mother Amaneh is desperate for someone to tell them what should be done.

“They say it’s near her brain, and if it moves it could affect her hearing or her movement,” she says. “But they’re not sure what to do. They’re afraid to leave it and they’re afraid to take it out.”