The Halawa family’s building still rises two stories above the flattened remains of Gaza City, an improbable silhouette in a landscape of broken concrete and twisted steel.
After more than two years of Israeli bombardment, the structure stands only in part: one side has collapsed entirely, the roof is gone, and rusted metal rods jut from the wreckage where walls once held.
To reach their apartment upstairs, the family climbs a narrow staircase made of wooden planks scavenged from debris.
It creaks underfoot, bending slightly with every step – a daily reminder that the line between shelter and danger is thin.
Yet for Amani Halawa, her husband Mohammed and their five children, returning was not a question of choice so much as necessity.
