GAZA CITY: Thirteen-year-old Tasneem Al Nahal lies in the morgue of Gaza City’s Shifa hospital, dressed in the pink-and-blue tracksuit she was wearing when an Israeli air raid killed her.
A few hours earlier, she was by the sea, playing with neighbours under a brilliantly blue sky.
But when the air strike hit, pieces of shrapnel pierced her skull, spilling her bright red blood onto the pavement in front of her house.
The six-day conflict between Israel and Gaza militant groups has claimed the lives of at least 23 children, according to the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights, innocents cut down in a battle they barely understand.
Hundreds more have been injured. And for those children who escape the physical toll of the war, there is a heavy psychological price to be paid.
Many are traumatised by what they see and hear, terrified of a relentless air campaign, and unable to process the violence and death that surrounds them.
In Gaza City’s Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood, just before noon, a funeral procession moves towards a mosque, where prayers will be said over the bodies of the Dallu family.
At least eight members of the family were killed in a single strike on Sunday, the deadliest of the conflict so far.
The bodies of the Dallu children, wrapped in Palestinian flags, their greying faces exposed, are carried by relatives at the head of a chanting crowd of men and boys. “Do children fire rockets?” screamed a man through a loudspeaker. “No!” the crowd chanted back.
Inside the mosque, the bodies are laid out while prayers are performed, and curious children try to squeeze between adults to see the corpses.
One wide-eyed boy is pushed back by an adult, who tries to keep him from the macabre scene. On one body, relatives have pinned a photograph of the smiling girl who used to be.
Outside, gangs of children mill around, some holding green Hamas flags they have been given to wave.
As they wait for the prayers to end, a sudden screech fills the air, prompting both children and adults to duck. The sound is of two rockets fired towards Israel, which leave white smoke trails in the sky.
“We don’t want the war, it’s scary and awful,” says 12-year-old Mohammed Radwan shyly. “We want peace, we want a truce. “When I hear the bombing I get onto the sofa and cover myself with pillows to try to be safe. I try to hide myself as much as possible.
“Sometimes I go over to my mum and hold onto her too,” he adds, slapping another boy who teases him for the admission.
Thirteen-year-old Ezzedine Hussein is full of bravado at first, talking over the other boys, glaring with his green-blue eyes.
“We want to say to the Jews: We’re not scared, we are defending our land and we want our rights,” he says.AFP
