GAZA- In the ruins of Gaza, where war has left entire neighborhoods in rubble and lives shattered beyond recognition, a young woman named Anwar Hawas walks alone each day through the broken streets, clutching photographs of her missing brother.
“I am looking for my missing brother, Hadi Hawas,” says Anwar, 22, her voice a mixture of resolve and heartbreak. “Every day I go out in the morning and come back in the evening, hoping to find him. I printed his picture and put it up on the walls, asking people and searching the streets. I pray to God to help me find him.”
Her brother Hadi, 17, is autistic and nonverbal. He disappeared three weeks ago in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, a densely populated area heavily bombarded during the ongoing Israeli assault. Since then, Anwar has searched tirelessly, through alleyways, in makeshift clinics, along aid queues, and among the displaced, hoping to find any sign of him.
She visits field hospitals operated by the Palestinian Red Crescent, speaks to receptionists, and leaves flyers with his name, photo, and family contacts. “Due to the absence of government agencies, the lack of security and safety, and the absence of official bodies that can help us find him, we were forced to resort to old methods, such as distributing flyers,” Anwar explains. “Especially in light of the internet and communication outages. The situation is very difficult.”
Anwar’s story is not an isolated one. Since the beginning of the war, over 11,000 Palestinians have been reported missing in the Gaza Strip, according to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics. The majority are women and children. With official systems crippled, families are left to rely on flyers, word of mouth, and WhatsApp voice notes when electricity and signal permit.
Some disappear during Israeli airstrikes, with their bodies left unrecovered beneath collapsed buildings. Others are feared to have been detained or forcibly disappeared by Israeli forces.
With DNA testing materials barred from entering Gaza, and hospitals overwhelmed or destroyed, many of the dead remain unidentified.
In this chaotic reality, grassroots initiatives are stepping in. One such effort is led by Ghazi al-Majdalawi, a young activist who launched the “Palestinian Center for the Missing and Forcibly Disappeared,” an online platform supported by a network of volunteers.
“With the continuation of the Israeli war and ground operations, we launched this platform,” says al-Majdalawi. “The occupation prevents the entry of materials related to DNA testing, making it difficult to identify the bodies that have been recovered. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of unidentified dead.”
Human rights groups have also tried to track the missing. Mustafa Ibrahim, chairman of the Al-Dameer Association for Human Rights, says they have followed up on 1,000 cases. “We have been able to uncover the fate of 600 of them through our follow-up with the Israeli authorities, while the fate of about 420 people remains unknown. Some have been forcibly disappeared, and no information is available about them,” he notes.
In many cases, families are left in limbo, unsure whether their loved ones are dead, detained, or still wandering among the displaced. Some Palestinians vanish while trying to reach aid centers, others during mass displacements or night raids. Without functioning forensic services or centralized reporting systems, closure remains elusive.
For Anwar Hawas, the war is not measured in bombs and statistics; it is lived in the quiet moments of desperation. “I just want to find him,” she says. Her search continues each day, a heartbreaking symbol of the thousands still waiting for answers and the countless others lost in Gaza’s shadow of silence.
