19 August 2024

 

Dear friends and colleagues in the humanitarian community.

Thank you for recognizing Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA on this World Humanitarian Day.

As we know, since the early morning of 7th?October – over?40,000 people, possibly far more, have been [reportedly] killed in Gaza and over 1,200 [reportedly] killed in Israel.

Within this, the humanitarian community has suffered unspeakable tragedy. At least 289 humanitarian personnel have been killed, from Palestinian and international NGOs and from the Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ. At least 211 are Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ staff, including?207 from Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA?alone, and staff from WHO, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµDP and Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµDSS. At least 190 Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA premises have been damaged or destroyed, killing over 560 people sheltering inside. Over 135?children?of Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA staff have been killed.

Before the war,?half of Gaza¡¯s 625,000 children went to Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA schools. Any chance of recovery in Gaza and of lasting peace must see them return with their?teachers?to school.

On 10 July, Wafa, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA teacher was killed with her husband and two children in Nuseirat.

On 18 July, Seham, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA teacher, was injured and her husband and children killed, in Bureij. Seham later died from her injuries.

On 21 July, Suha, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA teacher was injured in Nuseirat, and her husband and young daughter and son were killed. Suha died from her injuries on 30 July.

On 24 July,?Ibtehal, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA teacher was killed with her 4 month-old daughter in Khan Younis.

On 19?January,?but only recently reported, Ghada, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA teacher, was killed along with her husband and six children.

All had been displaced from their homes. These are five entries from Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA¡¯s record of staff deaths. We have?two hundred?more.?They were teachers, doctors, nurses, engineers, cleaners, support staff, technicians.

This is by far the greatest loss of Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ personnel killed in a single conflict or natural disaster since the creation of the United Nations.

The harm inflicted on humanitarian workers and operations has been described by competent entities in the Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ and beyond as violations of?international law?and?likely war crimes. The consequences go far beyond Gaza. In the humanitarian community we know that the reason we can work in the most dangerous places is not through force of arms, but through force of law and principles. Each day, many of us depend upon the respect for the Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ flag not only by governments but also by individual fighters ¨C in a plane above us, at a roadblock. When that respect ceases, we lose the protection required to help those who need it most. There must be accountability.

Within 30 seconds of entering?Gaza?through Rafah or Kerem Shalom, humanitarian staff walk into an active conflict. Within the 18% of Gaza not under evacuation orders, it is intensely crowded ¨C a normally five-minute drive takes an hour. There are children everywhere. Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA premises,?almost all converted into shelters, are filled with people trying to stay clean, trying to care for their children, trying to live. There is the constant sound of drones high in the sky, the sound of incoming fire from ships, the sound of exploding bombs near and far, or silent plumes of smoke rising from the strike of a distant missile. People risk their lives to find clean water and food. Polio spreads in open sewage. Children die from inadequate medical care, while world class hospitals are near.

Almost all?Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA and humanitarian staff are displaced. Like the general population, they live on the floor of schools, in half destroyed buildings, in tents constructed from rugs and branches.

It is in this environment that humanitarian workers are keeping Gaza alive.

I asked my?colleagues?in Gaza what they would want me to say here.

They told me that while at work they worry all day about the safety of their families. That upon hearing each explosion they try to calculate in their minds its size,?location and proximity to where their families are displaced.

They said that Gazans are angry at the international community, represented on the ground by humanitarian workers, for not stopping the destruction.

Randa and Farid talked about two dear friends among the deceased Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA staff – Seline, an Obstetrician, and Shahar who devoted his life to education for children with special needs. ¡°Gaza has lost so much¡±, they said.

Rida, an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA school principal now a shelter manager, described how a missile strike on her shelter in Khan Younis killed 17 people?immediately. With ambulances unable to come, Rida said she and other Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA staff, without medical training, provided care overnight for many others with severe trauma injuries. The worst was seeing human beings reduced to ¡°bundles¡±.

Eima?works in movement coordination for humanitarian missions. She described how she wakes at 4 a.m to receive and transmit updated instructions on safe routes, and then spends all day worrying if the routes she shared will really keep her colleagues safe.

My colleagues told me that everyone dreams constantly of a ceasefire.?

Amidst the pain, as humanitarians, we look for hope and light where we can find it.

Is there light in the fact that even when an Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA school is hit by bombs killing IDPs, and hit again days later killing more, that IDPs still remain there because,?in spite of everything, they feel safer under the Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ blue flag; safer with Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ staff around them?

Is there light in the fact that on a single day in February, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA was able to conduct over?20,000?separate patient visits at our few remaining health clinics? And that one of those clinics, in Nuseirat, on one terrible day, shifted from primary health care to serving as an ICU with staff doing improvised surgery on over 150 trauma cases that arrived within a few hours, under intense bombardment?

Is there hope in the fact that amid the horror of a polio outbreak, the humanitarian community has somehow managed to design a public health campaign to address it; now the parties to the conflict must enable the plan¡¯s implementation.

My colleagues said they have enormous pride in their work and in Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA and the other humanitarian operations. They said: ¡°We are the door that is always open for the community¡±. Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA is part of almost every aspect of humanitarian assistance in Gaza, through our thousands of staff. The day after each terrible moment, no matter how deeply staff are affected, including the death of their own children, they keep reporting to work.

I ask that we recognize the humanitarian personnel working in and on Gaza.?From Palestinian public health and safety organizations, to international NGOs, to Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ agencies and departments including WHO, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµDP, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµDSS, OCHA, WFP, IOM, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµICEF, OHCHR, Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµMAS, the Resident Coordinator and the Special Coordinator and their teams, and others. And I ask that we recognize Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA staff who, after going through so much, still ¡°keep the door always open¡±.

I also recall the outstanding work,?courage and commitment of humanitarian staff around the world from across the NGO and Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ community, and our colleagues lost in Iraq in 2003.

Despite those who might abuse it, whether through attacks or through neutrality violations, the blue Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµ flag continues to?represent the principles of human rights, of international law, and of humanity for all peoples affected by this terrible conflict, on all sides of borders and walls, and regardless of national, religious, or ethnic origins. At the risk of their lives, our colleagues in Gaza and around the world set this standard every day.

The last message I would share is of an impromptu speech made by our colleague Miranda, a Palestinian senior manager of a large Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA-Gaza team. During my last visit?into Gaza, I listened as she gathered about 40 staff to stand around her. Ignoring the background sound of explosions, she smiled and spoke as she walked around the room looking at her team, saying ¡°Thank you, for your dedication, for your hard work. We are strong. We are defending our organization that is our family. We will absorb the anger of our community. We are here. We will not leave our IDPs. We will leave no one behind, even though we are standing alone.¡±

Today, on World Humanitarian Day 2024,?all of Ä¢¹½ÊÓÆµRWA and the humanitarian community in Gaza knows that we are not alone.

Thank you.