A man shakes his phone, hands trembling uncontrollably, collapsing with tears. A caption: “He waits for his friend, trying to contact him after the house is destroyed and turned into rubble.”
More explosions.
An entire street seems to collapse as terrified people flee.
A street after these strikes, buildings mutilated, like rotting dead bodies.
A smiling Red Crescent worker is comforting a shaking little girl. The caption: “Children afraid to cross what the army says is a safe corridor.”
A column of refugees along the beach: “A million Palestinians returning to their destroyed homes and towns in the north of Gaza.”
A ghost town of blackened buildings.
(The theater is silent. The wind blows.)
A group walks as airplanes and missiles whiz over their heads. The children cover their ears and sob.
A camp of tents at night.
Homes in flames.
A darkened neighborhood, lit up by the light of bombs.
“Israeli warplanes bombed a house in Rafah, southern Gaza.”
Courtesy of Nan Goldin
A man being buried with a press vest and a Palestinian scarf as other journalists, identifiable from the same vests, pray.
“Israel’s war on Gaza has killed 232 journalists—an average of 13 per month.” —Al Jazeera, April 2025.
Bodies covered with shrouds in a mosque.
A little boy in a yellow T-shirt, four or five years old, kisses a foot wrapped in a body bag.
A pretty young woman with dark rings under her eyes says, “When they asked me, ‘Mom, does it hurt when we get bombarded? Do we . . .’” She pauses and wipes away tears. “‘Do we feel the pain or do we just die at once?’ And I have to explain to them, ‘No, don’t worry. It’s not going to hurt.’
“More than 50,000 children reportedly killed or injured in the Gaza Strip.” —statement from UNICEF, May 2025.
