Earlier this month, the Israeli occupying forces withdrew from my hometown of Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip, presumably to prepare for an attack on nearby Rafah. Now, those civilians who won the lottery of life and death are on a trail of broken dreams back to Khan Younis. It is a pilgrimage – hajj in Arabic – but one of grief not of faith.

Danger still lurks in every corner, but my cousin Ikram and her husband, Awad, felt compelled to join the hajj and venture to the al-Qarara area in the north of Khan Younis to check on Awad’s brother Mohammad and his family.

What they discovered was beyond comprehension. Mohammed, his wife, Manar, and their seven children – Khaled, Qusai, Hadya, Said, Ahmad, Ibrahim and Abed, all under the age of 15 – had been brutally killed by an Israeli air strike on their home. Their house lay in ruins and their bodies lay decomposing, stray dogs and cats trying to gnaw at them. Ikram and Awad dug shallow graves and buried them.

This was the second time Ikram and Awad had to bury nephews and nieces. In October, they had to take care of the bodies of Tasneem, Yasmeen, Mahmoud and Ilyas, the children of Awad’s other brother, Ibrahim, who were killed along with their mother, Nancy, by an Israeli bombardment.

This time, the pain proved too unbearable. Upon her return home, Ikram, overcome by grief, suffered a sudden loss of vision. The cause of this tragic affliction remains unknown, leaving us all bewildered and devastated.

Meanwhile, in the west of Khan Younis, which now resembles a ghost town, some of my husband’s family embarked on a similar journey of anguish. Their destination: the ruins of their homes, not far from what remains of al-Amal Hospital.

The entire block,........

© Al Jazeera