Fearing Israeli invasion of Rafah, Palestinians plan to flee. But where?

Panic is setting in across Rafah.

Even as talks seeking an Israel-Hamas cease-fire enter a crucial stage this week, hundreds of thousands of displaced Palestinians are scrambling to find a way out of this cramped southern Gaza border city – and finding few options.

Arab and American envoys have voiced hopes for their diplomatic push to reach a cease-fire-for-hostage-release deal. But across the southern Gaza Strip, Palestinians are bracing for the fallout should talks fail: an Israeli offensive against Hamas in Rafah.

The city on the border with Egypt is now home to 1.4 million people, including 1 million displaced from devastated communities across the coastal enclave.

Families are hurriedly packing “go bags” of emergency items in case they need to flee – even though they have precious few places to go. The Arabic hashtag #WhereDoWeGo is trending.

“There is no place to go now, no place to hide. Everywhere is crammed with people,” says Warda Shinbary, a mother of three whose family was displaced from northern Gaza.

Comments Tuesday by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu that the Israeli military will enter Rafah “with or without a deal” only added to fears that families had days, perhaps hours, to leave.

Crammed coastal refuge

In their encampment of makeshift tents in the heart of Rafah city, the days-old speculation among Zayed Shaksha, his relatives, and his neighbors was reaching fever pitch: Is an Israeli offensive imminent? How soon? Will it be a targeted operation or a full-blown invasion? Where can we go?

“I never expected Israeli tanks to roll over Tal Hawa and the Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City or in the middle of Khan Yunis,” says Mr. Shakhsha, a driver and father of three. “Now I totally believe that when they say they will invade Rafah, they mean it.”

Thousands are dismantling tents, grabbing whatever they can, and heading to al-Mawasi – a 14-kilometer-long, 1-kilometer-wide strip of southern Gaza coastline that is already crammed with tens of thousands of displaced Gazans in tents.

Ghada Abdulfattah

Zayed Shakhsa stands with his children at the door of their tent in an encampment in the heart of Rafah city, April 29, 2024.

The al-Mawasi region comprises 3% of the total area of the Gaza Strip yet is considered the only potential safe area. Rafah residents and displaced people are asking relatives there to reserve a few meters of sand so that they can come; some are being turned away.

Others are returning to the adjacent city of Khan Yunis, heavily damaged by an Israeli offensive in January, even amid fears the army could hit the area again.

Unable to find space in al-Mawasi when she first left northern Gaza two months ago, Ms. Shinbary now lives in a makeshift nylon tent on a plot of land between Khan Yunis and Rafah.

Now unable to leave the area, Ms. Shinbary instead has bought some canned food and three sacks of flour to help her family sit out the worst or relocate to another part of what may become a battlefield.

“I expect to be displaced at any moment as the occupation increases its threats to invade the city,” she says.

“We are sitting in tents”

Shireen Abu Ouda was nine months pregnant when she and her child, following Israeli instructions, left Beit Hanoun in northern Gaza for the south, leaving her husband behind.

In the five times she has been displaced since, she has left behind clothes, mattresses, and cookware. Now a widow with an infant and child in Rafah, she does not have the means to pick up and move again. Many families face the same predicament.

“Where can we go when a rougher offensive comes? Where can we find safety? We are sitting in tents,” she says from her tent. “If an airstrike hits a tent, God forbid, shrapnel could kill many of us.

“Everybody is afraid. It is hard to move from one place to another, really hard. We are all tired,” she says. 

To survive an offensive, she is stocking up on baby formula. “If an [Israeli] invasion happens, I will be cut off,” she says.

Ghada Abdulfattah

Shireen Abu Ouda, with her newborn and older child in front of their makeshift tent outside Rafah, says she is unable to relocate again, April 29, 2024.

Hanaa Abu Tima, an UNRWA teacher and mother of six who was displaced from her home in Khan Yunis, decided to return to the rubble that was once her home.

“Everything is in ruins. My house is destroyed. I can barely recognize the city,” she says from Khan Yunis.

Meanwhile, Osama Jaber, a civil engineer and Rafah resident, lined up large and small bags at his home.

He checked the contents – summer clothes, shoes, slippers, hygiene products, canned food, multiple tents – all to cover the basic needs of his family of eight and two parents. He had been preparing for two months.

“We learned from the experiences of the displaced people who came to Rafah. They left their homes without belongings, believing the war would not last long, and faced severe shortages,” he says.

His family was preparing to evacuate to the al-Mawasi coastal region, where relatives own land and have reserved a plot.

“We did not want to prepare ourselves at the last second,” he says.

Like many in Gaza, Mr. Jaber, who is also an aid worker, worries that an offensive in Rafah, which the Netanyahu government says is necessary to defeat Hamas, will cut the limited relief entering the enclave, rendering it both unlivable and cut off from the world.

Ghada Abdulfattah

Civil engineer Osama Jaber poses on his family's land in Rafah, April 29, 2024.

“The Rafah border crossing is crucial for the entry of aid and goods. It is the only route for people to travel through,” he says.

“The Israeli occupation’s objective is to destroy infrastructure and health care to make us desperate. They have already done this in the north and in Khan Yunis; now they will do the same in Rafah,” he says.

The Egypt option

For Gaza residents, the only option to leave the strip is through Egypt – and it comes at a steep price.

There are currently two ways to get on the daily list published by Egyptian authorities to leave through the Rafah crossing. One is on medical grounds, for which there is a waiting list of thousands seeking treatment abroad.

The faster route is by paying Egyptian company Hala Consulting and Tourism Services, a broker that reportedly has links to the Egyptian government and security services.

Hala charges $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child to exit through Rafah – sums that are out of reach for the vast majority of families.

Mr. Jaber’s family paid the $5,000 fee in advance for his brother to travel to Egypt to continue university, and are anxiously awaiting his name to be listed.

“I am worried that my brother” won’t make the list before an offensive, he says.

“I wish we could leave through Egypt,” says Mr. Shaksha, the driver, holding his infant daughter on his lap, “but who can pay the expensive fees?”