A year of ceasefire in Gaza, but the killing has not stopped

In her tent in central Gaza early one morning last month, 31-year-old Fida al-Toutah, a mother of five, was combing her daughter's hair when the sound of gunfire erupted. Her son Ezz remembers his mother shouting at the children to get down. He realised she had been hit only when he saw the bloodied hands of his younger brother, who had been clinging to her as the bullets came in. Fida died on 21 September from a gunshot wound to the head. "Our mother was so kind and generous," Ezz said, weeping. "What did she do wrong?"

She is among more than 1,400 people in Gaza killed in Israeli attacks since the start of the ceasefire on 10 October last year, according to Gaza's Hamas-run health ministry, whose figures the UN considers reliable. The truce saw thousands of Palestinians held by Israel released in return for all 48 remaining hostages held in Gaza, alongside an agreement to end the war. That war was triggered by the Hamas-led attack on Israel on 7 October 2023, when about 1,200 people were killed and 251 taken hostage.

On the ground, the deal halted Israel's large-scale bombardment, bringing substantial relief and an increase in humanitarian aid and medical supplies entering the territory. Yet strikes have continued almost every day. In the past week alone, more than 30 people have been killed, according to the health ministry. Israel says it targets Hamas operatives and accuses the group of continued violations of the ceasefire. "It is all lies," said Ahed, Fida's husband. "Every day there's a shooting. Every day there is killing and death lurking around." Asked about Fida's killing, the Israel Defense Forces said it had no record of the incident. The total death toll from Israeli attacks since the war began three years ago now stands at more than 74,000, according to the health ministry.

Outside Fida's tent, her brother Ibrahim pointed to the holes he said were made by a volley of bullets fired by Israeli forces. "This tent is just a piece of cloth," he said. "Imagine that a military vehicle came down here and fired a spray of bullets." He described gunfire coming from the sky, from quadcopters, directed at unarmed civilians. Fida is the fourth of Ibrahim's siblings to be killed since the start of the war. "We left our neighbourhood Zeitoun to survive, but death is following us," he said. The family has moved seven times, yet safety has stayed out of reach. Most of Gaza's 2.1 million population has been displaced multiple times, the UN says, with many forced into tented cities and unsafe structures.

On the same day Fida was killed, 14-year-old Ismail al-Bardawil was also shot dead, in the al-Mawasi area of Rafah, in southern Gaza. His family told the BBC he was killed by Israeli forces while fishing in the Mediterranean with his brothers, around 20m from the shore. He is one of more than 300 children killed since the ceasefire began, according to the health ministry. The IDF said it had no information about the incident either. Over the past year, the IDF has released videos of operations in Gaza targeting Hamas and other groups; at least seven Israeli soldiers have been killed there since the truce began.

Both Fida and Ismail lived close to the so-called Yellow Line, which separates areas occupied by the Israeli military from those controlled by Hamas in the west. The zones around it are considered the most dangerous, because Israeli forces have frequently opened fire there, and there are few options to move: space is desperately short. The strip was densely populated even before the war. Now its population is squeezed into under 40% of its area, controlled by Hamas, where the group maintains a tight grip, clamping down on dissent and still recruiting fighters. In May this year, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said he had directed the IDF to increase the area of Gaza under Israel's control to 70%.

Architect Amal Alabadla, who lived in a comfortable flat before the war, now lives in a tent on the coastline. "Every time the rains come, it gets flooded," she said. "I feel very scared when the wind is strong because our tent gets destroyed or damaged." Amal is raising her two boys, Mohammed and Noah, alone. Her husband was not in Gaza when the war broke out, and in three years they have not been reunited. Her three brothers, who helped her care for the boys, were killed in separate attacks before the ceasefire began. "During the winter, my son suffers from epilepsy seizures because of the cold," she said. "It's very hard sometimes to keep him dry and warm." Before the war she had a job, a house, an ordinary life. "Now we have no hope, nothing," she said. "It's only about survival day by day, to keep my kids alive, clean, healthy and fed."

Further inland, some camps have been built below sea level, at greater risk of flooding. The October 2025 peace deal was supposed to pave the way for reconstruction, but rebuilding has not begun, stuck in limbo because of an impasse over the second phase of the agreement. Israel strictly controls what materials and machinery enter Gaza, acting, it says, for reasons of its own security. Earlier this year, US President Donald Trump put forward a plan to disarm Hamas, but in August it was rejected by Netanyahu, who stated that no military pull-out would happen until Hamas was "genuinely" disarmed. Hamas has said handing over its heavy weapons is contingent on Israel ending "all forms of aggression" and withdrawing its forces. Trump's Board of Peace has also proposed a recovery plan for Gaza worth $2.45bn.

One year on from the ceasefire, and three years on from the start of the war, many like Amal remain deeply sceptical that anything will change on the ground. "We are struggling and not being allowed to rebuild," she said. "I don't think they are telling us the truth about allowing us to rebuild a safe future for our children."