Searching Among Corpses: A Gaza Wife Seeks Her Husband and Brother at Nasser Hospital

Searching Among Corpses: A Gaza Wife Seeks Her Husband and Brother

Deir el-Balah and Khan Younis, Gaza Strip — Israa al-Areer spends hours at Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis staring at a large screen, as she has many times since bodies began to be returned from Israel. The process has become a ritual for families trying to recognise loved ones among photographs taken by the hospital's forensic staff.

The routine is simple and harrowing: when bodies are returned, the forensic department photographs them and those images are displayed in a large hall so relatives can search for distinguishing marks, clothing or other clues that could identify the dead. Each photo brings fresh hope — and, often, fresh anguish.

Israa is looking for two people: her husband, Yasser al-Tawil, and her brother, Diaa al-Areer. Contact with both men was lost on 7 October 2023, when fighting around the Gaza border began. They are believed to have been near the fence with Israel and have not been heard from since.

Israa began travelling from her home in central Gaza's Deir el-Balah to Nasser Hospital on 14 October, four days after a temporary ceasefire that led to the handover of dozens of bodies. That day Israel returned 45 bodies under the deal, with more delivered in the following days.

“My mother and mother-in-law entrusted this painful mission to me,” Israa said. “I couldn’t believe I had reached this point in my life: searching among the dead for my husband and brother, just to bury them and have a grave and a memory.”

What met Israa and dozens of other relatives was often horrifying. Many corpses showed signs of decomposition and abuse. According to Israa and other family members, the Israeli army has generally not provided biographical details with the bodies returned to Gaza.

“They were the hardest moments of my life,” Israa said. “Each image made me gasp in horror at what they had done to the bodies. I nearly lost my mind comparing the image of my beautiful husband in my memory with the horrific photos on that screen.”

She and others described seeing corpses with stones, sand and nails forced into mouths; some blindfolded and handcuffed; some missing fingernails or fingers; others with limbs missing or appearing to have been run over. Israa called it “savage, inhuman torture.”

The screening session she describes lasted about four hours. Despite painstakingly reviewing every image, Israa did not find Yasser or Diaa that day. Yasser, in his early 30s when he disappeared, was last seen on the night of 6 October. Israa remembers calling him around 1 a.m.; their daughter Abeer, then four, had a fever and he said he would be home by 6 a.m. She woke the next morning to rockets and to a phone that could not be reached.

Hours later a friend told her that a group of men had gone to eastern Khan Younis after hearing about the Hamas-led attack on southern Israel and had become separated in the ensuing chaos. The friend did not know what had happened to Yasser. Family members also reported that Diaa, 24, had gone missing after travelling to the border with friends.

Acting on a tip, Israa left her daughter with a neighbour and ran through hospitals searching among the wounded and the dead. She found nothing. Family members contacted the International Committee of the Red Cross and the Palestinian Ministry of Health but received no answers. There remains a small possibility the men are detained, but the family believes they are more likely dead.

Over the following months and years Israa and her relatives endured repeated displacement across Gaza, moving several times to escape bombardment. To cope, she returned to work as a freelance journalist for international and Arab outlets, saying she needed to occupy herself so she would not drown in grief.

Each time bodies are returned, Israa returns to the hall at Nasser Hospital or to the Ministry of Health website when internet access permits. The condition of many bodies — decomposition, mutilation, or severe injury — makes visual identification difficult and painful. Families often ask staff to replay images, zoom in on hands or marks, or pause on an image for another look.

“There was a mother next to me who screamed when she recognised her son from his clothes,” Israa recalled. “She collapsed in tears, but there was relief; they had finally found him.” On another occasion Israa believed she had identified Yasser, only to learn the underwear and body shape did not match when the body was inspected in person.

Forensic staff say they require clear identifying marks before releasing a body to a family. Israa watched three families dispute one body until a father proved his case with evidence of an old foot injury and the body was released to him.

Israa also raised a wider concern: while excavation and detection equipment were reportedly brought in to identify Israeli bodies held in Gaza, she says no DNA testing devices have been allowed to enter, and dozens are buried daily without identification. “What kind of logic is that?” she asked.

Friends and relatives begged Israa to stop exposing herself to the repeated trauma and to rest. “They told me, ‘Have mercy on yourself — we’ll bury you before we bury your husband. Stop this,’” she said. But she could not stop. “What if my husband or brother were among those bodies and no one recognised them? I could never forgive myself.”

“All I want,” she said, “is to honour them with a burial.”