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Rafah, Gaza – The loss of nine-year-old Yazan, or Yazouna, as her mother called her, hangs like a dark cloud over the El-Kafarna family's small living space.
They live together in a shelter built from scraps of wood, cardboard and sheets by Sharif al-Kafarna in front of the third floor elevator door at a UNRWA school in Rafah.
It is neat and clean inside and there is a garland of Ramadan paraphernalia hanging on one wall, but one cannot hide the fact that a family of five sleeps in a space about eight meters square (80 feet square) , prays, eats and spends the whole day.
Crying, his mother said: “This is our first Ramadan without Yazan, God has ordained this for us and we cannot complain, we can only praise Him and have faith.”
Yazan died on March 4 in Rafah's Abu Youssef al-Najjar hospital on breathing machines and IV drips, his body completely ravaged by the five-month-long relentless war during which his family was forced to flee an alleged Had escaped from “safe place”. To the other, frightened, destitute and hungry.
He will turn 10 on June 4.
a protected childhood
Yazan was diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a one-month-old infant, during the first Israeli attack on the Gaza Strip in 2014.
His parents took great pains to organize his life in Beit Hanoun, where they lived before the war, so he had the necessary food, supplements, and health care.
“Yazan needed special vitamin mixtures for his mental acuity and these injections to keep his body strong, as well as physiotherapy, which he required regularly.”
“They also needed healthy food, eggs, vegetables, fruits, dairy. He also used to eat baby cereals and we used to puree food items for him so that he could eat,” said his father Sharif.
He also received physiotherapy at home by therapists from various organizations who visited the family home regularly. There were also therapists who worked with them to provide psychological support and some basic education.
“He enjoyed his session, you could see it in his eyes. He would smile, sometimes he would even clap, and his eyes would keep track of what was going on, like the coaches were talking to him or there was a show on the screen that we would show him,” his father. he said.
The little boy was thriving, and his parents celebrated him as much as they protected him.
“We will throw birthday parties for Yazaan. When he heard music he would smile, clap, he was doing well, thank God.
Her mother said, “We'd do everything with birthday cake and party food, just like we did for other kids.”
understanding and love
The couple have three surviving children, eight-year-old Mouin, four-year-old Wael, and four-month-old Mohammed, who was born on October 7, just weeks after Israel's attack on Gaza.
Moeen was the closest of Yazan's brothers, his mother told Al Jazeera.
“When I had to be in the other room he would sit with her and keep an eye on me. He didn't change his diaper or anything like that, but he would spend hours with him watching something or talking,” she said.
His father said that because Yazan could not speak, he would make different sounds according to his needs.
He said, “I couldn't understand what he wanted, well, his mother was the only one who knew what he wanted based on the sounds he was making.”
Yazan's mother smiled fondly remembering his relationship with his eldest brother.
“He was close to me… such a nice kid, we had a great relationship and I always understood him. When he was hungry he would make a particular noise, and if he was startled he would make another noise.
“I took him everywhere with me, to the market, to my family's place, he just came along. We also went to the beach, but I didn't put her in the ocean because I was always worried she would get too cold, I would just bathe her in the tub.
Memories of a past life bring a fleeting smile to her face as she describes her two-bedroom house with a large living room and kitchen where the children had space to play – now they spend all day in a small space with their parents. Live with father.
“On Fridays we'll have a big family meal, then have lunch and go out to meet our families, either going to my own family or to our in-laws,” she said.
Sharif worked as a driver, earning enough money to provide for everything the family needed, especially Yazaan.
“I tried to do the same here,” he said. “We are from Beit Hanoun, we were displaced to Jabaliya, then Nuseirat, then Deir al-Balah, and when we got here, I Made sure we had our own place, so Yazaan would be as comfortable as I could manage for myself, son,” Sharif added.
war brings the beginning of the end
“When I see my son growing day by day and him getting the necessary food and medicines, I feel very happy. But then when the war started, they could not get treatment or proper food,” said Sharif.
They worked as hard as they could to secure what Yazan needed to survive — soft, nutritious food the little boy could eat — but first, supplies dwindled, then black market prices skyrocketed, he added. grew exponentially, and then finally, there was no longer food to be found.
Yazan's health began to deteriorate before the horrified eyes of his parents as they carried him in their arms from one “safe” place of displacement to another.
No amount of soft bread crumbs collected for him could help keep him alert and strong, and his already thin body began to waste away.
“His condition started deteriorating day by day. We didn't have enough medicine, so I would try to skip days to stretch what we had,” her father said sadly.
“We took him to the hospital and he spent his last days on life support at Abu Youssef al-Najjar hospital. By then he was not able to answer anything, not even to his mother.”
Yazan spent 11 days in hospital before dying on 4 March.
“I can never forget Yazan,” his mother said, crying.
“He is in my heart and mind every minute of every day. Look what's happening to our children!”