For the last year and a half Fatima shared the story of Palestinians – she wanted the world to know what they were living through in Gaza, determined people would listen and care. Her work was published in media around the world and Fatima used her talent to advocate for an end to the conflict.  In January she celebrated the ceasefire and allowed herself to dream of a brighter future.  

“I am looking forward to my life after the war and I am confident that beautiful things will come.”

Fatima Hassouna

In the weeks before her death she created a photo diary – allowing us an insight into her world and sharing with us her thoughts and emotions. 

We had originally intended to publish this photo diary anonymously, protecting her identity in a futile attempt to keep her safe. With permission from her surviving family we proudly name and credit Fatima Hassouna for her work – her resilience and courage in the pursuit of being sure the people of Gaza are not forgotten. Fatima will not be forgotten. 

A street in ruins

“This is my city, and what it looks like today after 18 months of brutal conflict: sandy streets, demolished homes, nonexistent facilities. Every place we loved has turned into a vast emptiness, and this city has become a city of ghosts. 

“This is Al-Mukhabarat Street in the northern Gaza Strip – it used to be one of the most vibrant streets, as it led you to the beautiful sea, past the Al-Mathaf Hotel, and other places people enjoyed visiting here. But today I can see the scars of destruction, after fire belts that ravaged this once busy street – it has now transformed into something else—it took me a while to even recognize it when I got here. 

“They have taken from us all the things we loved!”

Fatima Hassouna

“Every landmark in this city has changed. They have taken from us all the things we loved!” 

A stadium of families 

“This is the Yarmouk Stadium, in days gone by it was a place filled with the cheers of crowds as they enjoyed watching football matches here.  

“Now it has been turned into a camp for the displaced, for families forced to flee their homes as they have been destroyed, or risk being targeted. Women who have lost their homes sit on these stands—some have lost their husbands, children, or other family members, each carrying her own story. 

“These women sit on the stands where they now literally live. These stands, no wider than a square meter, are where entire families must sleep. Every now and then, they sit in this small space, staring out, into the distance. I imagine that they are staring at what feels like the towering piles of their worries before them.” 

Colour in the dust, the toy stall 

“My Gaza is one of the most contradictory places in this world. Amidst brutal destruction and devastation, you stumble across this stall filled with colorful children’s toys, standing in stark contrast to the dull colours of devastation and death—a bold defiance of oppression. There will still be hope for a better future.  

“I took this photo because it tells me that even if they kill all the children, other children will be born, carrying these toys in their hands and living their childhood as it should be, one day. 

“The daily life of this city never ceases to amaze me — the resilience of its people, the life on the streets just days after it was bombed to the ground. Individuals whom the daily risk of death cannot deter them from going out and living. To me, this is the equation of ‘the pink against the gray.’” 

My stolen sanctuary

“This place is the “Rashad Al-Shawa Cultural Center,” one of the most important cultural centers in Gaza and one of the places most deeply etched in my memory. 

“In these photos, you can see the main event hall where poetry evenings, celebrations, and plays were always held. Sometimes, it would even turn into a cinema as there are no cinemas in Gaza. It fulfilled the dreams of everyone who enjoyed the arts. 

“The first moment I entered the place after the bombing, I felt like crying because they took something from me that they had no right to take.  

“This place is part of my identity—steadfast, no matter how circumstances change.”

Fatima Hassouna

“But I know deep down they cannot really take it away from me, because this place is part of my identity—steadfast, no matter how circumstances change.”

A suffering generation 

“Nothing here is sadder to see than the state of the children in this city.  

“Many children are carrying burdens heavier than their years. At a time when they should be in schools or playgrounds, they are instead living in their schools and facing war with a small plate in hand and bare feet.

“I am not always happy when I take such photos. On the contrary, these scenes deeply sadden me and eat away at my heart. The little ones of this city cannot bear all this exhaustion. But my only consolation is the hope that this generation will one day stand against injustice and that the schools and playgrounds will be as they once were.” 

The unforgotten artist, Mahasen 

“This is the talented artist, and my good friend, Mahasen Al-Khatib who was killed in the airstrikes. Mahasen was a role model for me and for many others, she didn’t let this war stop her work, she kept going. She used to sit in the attic of her house, pictured here destroyed after an attack, and draw beautiful pictures, using them as her voice, the voice of the Palestinians – speaking to the world.  

“The place where this photo was taken no longer exists. The house is gone, the attic is gone, and Mahasen and her dreams are gone. But her wish came true, her art lives on, and many around the world now know that Mahasen was killed as she pursued her dream.” 

A history of female courage 

“For entire generations, women have been the primary nurturers, the legends of the struggle, and the seeds from which a tree of strength and resilience has grown. 

“For ages, women have raised their children, instilling in them a steadfast belief and the idea that liberation begins with small actions— perhaps a keffiyeh.”

“We must believe in a better future for ourselves that resistance is a continuous and worthwhile endeavour.” 

Fatima Hassouna

“In the same vein, I have always seen the keffiyeh as the symbol of Palestine, the lady, and we are her children, guided by the belief we must believe in a better future for ourselves that resistance is a continuous and worthwhile endeavour.” 

The sea of strength 

“The more I try to explain our relationship as Gazans with the sea, the less meaning my words seem to carry.  

“The sea has been our only escape throughout our lives. And though they tried to keep us away from the sea, they couldn’t. Nothing can come between us and it. Everyone here, whenever they need to breathe, heads to the sea. Just seeing this vast expanse makes you feel like you can breathe again, like you can carry on with your life, at least with a little more sense of peace than you arrived with.” 

Returning home  

“Nothing is more beautiful than returning home, despite the hardship of the journey, the difficulty of reaching it, and the long wait to get there – it is always worth it. The moment you breathe in the air of your homeland and your home is a moment more precious than any other.”

The moment you breathe in the air of your homeland and your home is a moment more precious than any other.

Fatima Hassouna

“This awe-inspiring scene will stay in my memory until I die. This image will remain an eternal memento for an entire generation after me, allowing them to inhale the meaning of returning home, the meaning of ‘home,’ and the sweetness of arrival after a long, arduous wait.” 

The day before she died Fatima approved her photo diary to be shared publicly, following her death we have received consent from her family to publish her work fully crediting her.