Shaaban al-Dalou, a 19-year-old from the Gaza Strip, had a promising future ahead of him. A brilliant student who memorized the Quran at a young age and excelled academically, he once dreamed of becoming a doctor. However, as war engulfed Gaza, al-Dalou’s hopes turned into desperate pleas for escape, ultimately culminating in a tragic and devastating death that has come to symbolize the broader suffering of Gazans.
On October 14, 2024, Shaaban al-Dalou was one of many civilians caught in the crossfire of ongoing conflict between Israel and Hamas. That day, the Israeli military launched a “precision strike” near Al Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, targeting what it claimed was a Hamas command center operating nearby. The hospital, surrounded by makeshift camps of displaced families, was considered a relatively safe place under international law, which typically prohibits attacks on medical facilities. However, the airstrike caused a fire that engulfed al-Dalou’s family tent.
In the ensuing chaos, al-Dalou’s father, Ahmed, rushed to save his children, carrying three of them to safety. But as flames engulfed the tent, his oldest son, Shaaban, was trapped inside, unable to escape. A video captured a horrifying moment al-Dalou, engulfed in flames, waved his arms helplessly, becoming a haunting image of Gaza’s plight. His father recalled hearing him reciting Muslim shahada, a final prayer of faith. “I could see him, sitting re, lifting his finger and praying,” his father said in a heart-wrenching account of the event. “I called out to him, ‘Shaaban, forgive me, son! Forgive me! I can’t do anything.’”
Al-Dalou died just one day before his 20th birthday. His mor, Alaa, also perished in the fire. The tragedy sparked international condemnation, with even the United States — Israel’s staunchest ally — expressing concern over civilian casualties. Linda Thomas-Greenfield, U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, stated that she had watched horrific images “in horror” and called on Israel to take greater precautions to avoid civilian deaths, even if Hamas was operating nearby.
For al-Dalou, the last year of his life had been marked by suffering, despair, and an increasingly hopeless effort to escape the besieged Gaza Strip. He had turned to social media, posting videos from his family’s plastic tent, pleading for help, and even setting up a GoFundMe page to raise money for a possible escape. “You have to open your heart for us. I am nineteen, and I buried my dreams,” he wrote in one of his posts. His campaign raised over $20,000, but with the Rafah border crossing closed, any hopes of leaving Gaza were dashed.
Al-Dalou’s death was particularly painful for his aunt, Karbahan, and cousin Mohyeddin, who recalled a young man with dreams far beyond Gaza’s borders. Al-Dalou had studied software engineering and longed to pursue a Ph.D. abroad, but as the war dragged on, his dreams of escape shifted from academic ambitions to a desire for martyrdom. He had confided to his cousin that he wished to join his deceased friends and relatives in heaven.
His death follows a near-miss just 10 days earlier when Israeli airstrikes hit a mosque where al-Dalou had been reciting the Quran. He survived that attack, but shrapnel wounds from the strike had not yet fully healed when the fire took his life.
For Ahmed al-Dalou, the loss of his son has been incomprehensible. Once a father who shared secrets and a close bond with his eldest child, he now faces the unbearable grief of losing both his son and wife. His grief was compounded further when his youngest son, just 10 years old, succumbed to severe burns a few days after the fire. A young boy was buried alongside his mom and brother.
As Gaza continues to burn and civilians like the al-Dalou family suffer unimaginable loss, Shaaban’s story stands as a chilling reminder of the human toll in this enduring conflict. His father’s words linger: “I’ve never felt so broken way I feel broken now. I’ve never felt so defeated like I feel defeated now.”
