By Nourdine Jamal, APAN’s Correspondent in Gaza
Image: Nourdine Jamal
21 October 2026
In a displacement camp in Deir al-Balah, central Gaza, where rows of tents look much
the same but each holds a different story, a small moment of joy was quietly taking
shape.
There was no wedding hall decorated with flowers or dazzling lights. Instead, the
women’s ululations rang out among the worn-out tents, carrying a simple message:
life goes on, and love cannot always wait for better times.
On a day that would change their lives, Ibrahim, 26, married Maryam, 22, beginning
their life together beneath a canvas roof. Amid the hardship and uncertainty
surrounding them, they chose to take this step and build a future together.
Ibrahim is the sole survivor of his family, all of whom were killed when their home
was bombed. He was pulled from the rubble with injuries that still leave visible marks
on his body, including his leg, which affects the way he walks.
Maryam suffered a similar tragedy. An attack on her family’s home left her the only
survivor among her parents and siblings. She spent months in hospital recovering
from severe injuries to her limbs.
“When I lost my family and was injured, I thought my life had ended in that
moment,” Ibrahim says as he secures one of the corners of the tent he built with help
from his neighbors in the camp. “But when I met Maryam and learned what she had
been through, I felt that God was giving us a second chance. We could bring our
wounds together and build a new family from the ashes.”
“We couldn’t have a traditional wedding or afford to buy gold in these difficult
economic circumstances,” he adds. “But we agreed that all we needed to begin our
life together was a home of our own and a sincere promise to each other.”
In the neighboring tent, Maryam prepares for the big day, drawing strength from her
determination. Meanwhile, girls from the camp are making a bouquet from brightly
colored paper to give to the bride.
Looking at the simple traditional dress she is preparing to wear, Maryam says, “We
both carry scars on our bodies and in our memories that we will never forget. We have
lost our families, our home, and everything we owned, but we have chosen not to
remain prisoners of grief and absence.”
“We know there will be no cars in a wedding procession,” she continues. “But the
spontaneous joy we see today in our neighbors’ eyes as they help us prepare our tent
is more genuine and lasting than any grand wedding celebration.”
“We want to prove to ourselves and to the world that we cannot be broken,” she says.
“This tent is only temporary, until Gaza can be rebuilt and return to what it once was.”