Gaza families shelter in collapsing buildings with nowhere else to go

Over 73,000 Palestinians killed in the war; 21 people including 12 children died in a building collapse on September 16; 1.76 million people living in unsafe conditions.
I want to leave, but who will give me an alternative?
Masada Abu Jarad, living beneath a partially collapsed roof, describes the impossible choice facing displaced families in Gaza.
Mark

Why can't these families just move to safer buildings? Surely there are other structures in Gaza that aren't damaged.

Mimi

There are damaged buildings everywhere. The assessment found that three-quarters of the housing stock was destroyed or damaged. The safe buildings that do exist are occupied or too expensive to rent. Moving costs money that displaced families don't have.

Luke

But the source doesn't say how many undamaged buildings exist or what they cost to rent. We know 76.6 percent were damaged, but that leaves 23.4 percent. We don't know if those are accessible to people like Masada.

Mark

So these families are trapped not just by the physical destruction but by economics.

Mimi

Exactly. Masada said it plainly: even if a better place existed, she couldn't afford it. After repeated displacement, the cost of moving is prohibitive. And there's also the psychological weight—she's been displaced multiple times already.

Luke

The source mentions Israeli restrictions on tents and shelter materials. That's a policy choice that's making the crisis worse, but we should be clear: the source attributes this to Israel, and it's important context, but it's not the only reason families are stuck.

Mark

What happens when winter comes?

Mimi

The buildings flood. Roofs are already open to the elements. Heavy rain puts pressure on weakened structures. Islam described last winter as terrifying—she spent most days in a tent because the building flooded.

Luke

And we don't have data on how many people die or are injured in winter-related building collapses. The September 16 collapse killed 21 people, but we don't know if that's typical or an outlier.

Mark

So the families are essentially waiting for something to give—either the building or their ability to endure it.

Mimi

Yes. And they're aware of the danger. They've been warned by authorities. But the alternative—homelessness—feels worse to them than the risk of living in a collapsing building.

Mark

That's a devastating calculation to have to make.

Mimi

It is. And it's not a choice any of them wanted to face.

  • A building collapse on September 16 killed 21 people, 12 of them children, shattering any remaining sense that damaged structures could be endured indefinitely.
  • Families across Gaza are trapped in a cruel arithmetic: staying in crumbling buildings risks death by collapse, but leaving offers no destination — safe housing simply does not exist.
  • Israeli restrictions on tents, tarpaulins, and construction materials have frozen Gaza in a state of ruin, making reconstruction legally and logistically impossible even for those with means.
  • Winter is closing in on structures already weakened by war, with water seeping through exposed walls and rain threatening to accelerate collapses that are already underway.
  • UNICEF estimates 84 percent of Gaza's population — over 1.76 million people — are living in overcrowded or structurally inadequate shelters with no protection from the elements, and no clear path forward.

Three years of war have reduced Gaza's housing to rubble and memory, leaving families like those of Masada Abu Jarad and Abdullah Abu Hajar suspended between two forms of danger — the collapse of the walls around them and the void that waits outside. With 76.6 percent of Gaza's housing stock destroyed or damaged, and Israeli restrictions blocking the entry of reconstruction materials, the question of where to go has become unanswerable for more than 1.76 million people. The September 16 collapse of a six-storey building, which killed 21 people including 12 children, made visible what families already knew in their bones: that shelter, in any meaningful sense, has ceased to exist in Gaza. As winter approaches, the human cost of this suspension — measured in sleepless nights, cracking columns, and children afraid of the rain — continues to deepen.

In Gaza City's Palestine Square, Masada Abu Jarad lives beneath a ceiling that has already given way — broken concrete and twisted steel where a roof once was, a tent pitched in the open space to catch what shelter remains. She knows the building is failing. Civil Defence told her to leave. But leaving requires somewhere to go, and after three years of war, that somewhere does not exist. "We have no options," she said. "I want to leave, but who will give me an alternative?"

Her situation is shared by hundreds of thousands. A joint UN, World Bank, and EU assessment found that 371,888 housing units — 76.6 percent of Gaza's entire housing stock — have been destroyed or damaged. Rebuilding will cost more than $71 billion over the next decade. The war has killed over 73,000 Palestinians, and the destruction has left families choosing between two dangers: stay in structures that may collapse, or leave and have nowhere to go.

On September 16, that choice became fatal when a six-storey building in Gaza City collapsed without warning, killing 21 people including 12 children. Abdullah Abu Hajar, 40, lives with his wife and five children in another severely damaged building nearby, where municipal notices on the walls warn of collapse risk. Since September 16, he has barely slept. "I stay awake all night, keeping watch," he said. "I can't close my eyes. I keep just listening to sounds around me."

Islam Hassanein, 36, a mother of five, has spent nearly a year in a single room she found filled with rubble and cleaned herself. The building leans visibly. The plumbing does not work. A column has already fallen. Residents were evacuated temporarily, then returned — because there was nowhere else to be. "We keep looking, but we can't find anywhere," she said.

Winter deepens the threat. Water enters through exposed roofs and walls; heavy rain will place additional pressure on already weakened structures. Israeli restrictions on the entry of tents, tarpaulins, and shelter materials have left Gaza unable to rebuild or move forward. UNICEF estimates that nearly 84 percent of Gaza's population are living in overcrowded or inadequate shelters with little protection from cold, rain, or flooding. "I don't know what we are going to do," Islam said. "If there is an alternative, I will leave. We leave it to God."

In Gaza City's Palestine Square, Masada Abu Jarad lives beneath a roof that is no longer a roof. Broken concrete and twisted steel bars mark where her apartment's ceiling gave way, and her family has pitched a tent in the open space to catch what shelter they can. The 60-year-old knows the building is failing. When the Palestinian Red Crescent and Civil Defence visited last week, they told her to leave. But leaving requires somewhere to go, and in Gaza after three years of war, that somewhere does not exist for her.

"We have no options," she said. "I want to leave, but who will give me an alternative?" She has lived in this damaged structure for a year, after returning to northern Gaza from earlier displacement. Her family originally came from Beit Lahiya, far to the north, but Israel's destruction of that area forced them out early in the war and they have not been able to return. Each displacement has worn away at the possibility of return, and the cost of moving again—if anywhere safe were available—has become impossible to bear. "Even if there is a better place, tell me how I can afford to rent it," she said.

Masada's situation is not singular. A joint assessment by the United Nations, World Bank, and European Union found that as of October 2025, 371,888 housing units had been destroyed or damaged—76.6 percent of Gaza's entire housing stock. Rebuilding will require more than $71 billion over the next decade. The war has killed more than 73,000 Palestinians, and the destruction has left families with a choice between two forms of danger: stay in structures that may collapse, or leave and have nowhere to go.

On September 16, that choice became fatal. A six-storey residential building in Gaza City collapsed without warning, killing 21 people, including 12 children. The collapse sent a shock through the families still living in damaged structures across the Strip. Abdullah Abu Hajar, 40, lives with his wife and five children in the al-Najma building in Gaza City's Remal neighbourhood. The six-storey structure is severely damaged and unstable. About 17 families—roughly 50 to 60 people—live there. Municipal notices on the outside walls warn that the building is unsafe and at risk of collapse. At night, while his family tries to sleep, Abdullah stays awake and listens. Every sound—concrete shifting, stones moving, unexplained creaking—puts him on alert. "I stay awake all night, keeping watch," he said. "I can't close my eyes. I keep just listening to sounds around me." Since the September 16 collapse, he has barely slept. He and his family were displaced from Beit Hanoon in northern Gaza and moved repeatedly during the war before finding the al-Najma building. His extended family faces the same trap: one relative has been moving between southern and northern Gaza looking for a place to pitch a tent, hesitant to stay with Abdullah because of the building's condition, yet with nowhere else to go.

Islam Hassanein, 36, a mother of five, has spent nearly a year in a single room on the third floor of a damaged building. She found the room filled with rubble and debris, cleaned it, and moved in. The building leans visibly. The plumbing does not work. There is little that resembles a home. But leaving has proved no easier than staying. "We keep looking, but we can't find anywhere," she said. "They might even force us out of here. What are we supposed to do?" She would leave immediately if offered a safe place. "If they find us a good place and provide us with a tent, we will leave from the morning," she said. "But where is this place? And where is the tent?" Every day she hears the building cracking. A column has already fallen. Residents were evacuated temporarily, then returned because there was nowhere else for them to be.

Winter is coming, and the threat is becoming more acute. Water enters through exposed roofs and walls. Heavy rain will place additional pressure on already weakened structures. "Last winter was terrifying," Islam said. "We were constantly afraid that the building would collapse. I spent most days in my family's tent because this building was full of openings and would flood whenever it rained." She is afraid of the winter ahead. "I don't know what we are going to do," she said.

The United Nations reports that thousands of people are sheltering in buildings deemed unsafe because better housing options do not exist. Israeli restrictions on the entry of tents, tarpaulins, and other essential shelter materials are preventing reconstruction and leaving Gaza in a state of suspension—unable to move forward from the war, unable to rebuild, unable to leave. UNICEF estimates that nearly 84 percent of Gaza's population, more than 1.76 million people, are living in overcrowded displacement sites or damaged and inadequate shelters with little protection from cold, heavy rain, and flooding. Islam worries about her five children but sees few choices. "They are all afraid," she said. "But what can we do? If there is an alternative, I will leave. We leave it to God."

Even if there is a better place, tell me how I can afford to rent it.
— Masada Abu Jarad, 60-year-old resident of damaged building in Gaza City
I stay awake all night, keeping watch. I can't close my eyes. I keep just listening to sounds around me.
— Abdullah Abu Hajar, 40, living with family in structurally unstable building
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