Khan Younis, Gaza Strip, Palestine – With a heavy heart, sharp eyes and trembling hands, Abu Muhammad Qais searched meticulously in the thick nylon bag used as a makeshift shroud. People killed in Gaza. At the morgue at Khan Younis Nasser Hospital in the southern city, he hoped to find any trace of his missing son. Instead, he saw only unidentified body parts and fragments of wreckage.

The sight caused him to collapse to the ground, overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion. However, he mustered up the courage to continue looking for traces of 17-year-old Mohammed, turning his attention from the body to personal belongings: a pair of sandals with a yellow plastic patch or an orange sweater, a black jacket, sweatpants – anything. Something that might have belonged to his son.

“Has anyone seen patched sandals with yellow soles? If you find them, please let me know,” Abu Mohammed pleaded to others like him who came to the morgue early Tuesday to search for their loved ones. Dozens of corpses Palestinian Civil Defense Forces pull it out from under the rubble of Rafah, south of Khan Younis on the Egyptian border. Tears streamed down his face as he knelt and leaned against the wall. “I’m not looking for his body anymore – just his sandals. Do you see where we are now?” he whispered, his voice laced with sadness and resignation.

one Ceasefire takes effect on Sunday Cooperation between Israel and Hamas has enabled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to return to their largely demolished homes in Rafah and elsewhere in the Gaza Strip. Fifteen months of relentless shelling has displaced nearly 2 million Palestinians in Gaza, many of whom have been denied the opportunity to properly collect the bodies of their loved ones killed in the bombing and rubble.

Damaged infrastructure and Israeli attacks on ambulances and civil defense also hampered their ability to reach bombed sites.

Mohammed has been missing since November. He left his family’s displacement camp in Mawasi for what he said was a quick trip to retrieve belongings from his home in Rafah.

He never came back.

Abu Muhammad is convinced his son was killed by Israeli artillery fire or shelling as he tried to return home. “He wanted to bring back some of our belongings and return to the camp. But he brought nothing back and he did not come back,” he told Al Jazeera.

“a few bones”

In the days since Israeli forces partially withdrew from Rafah, local rescue teams and medical personnel have recovered dozens of remains and body parts, which were flown to Al-Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis and the European Hospital for identification. As word spreads, families of missing loved ones flock to these locations in hopes of finding closure.

For Abu Muhammad, finding his son was his last hope.

Since the day he disappeared, Abu Mohammed has spared no effort to find him. He contacted the Red Cross, the Ministry of Health and anyone who might be able to help. He even returned to Rafah’s destroyed home and searched through the rubble. “I’ve looked everywhere. His mother is on the verge of losing her mind and his sisters are desperate for answers,” he said.

According to Gaza’s health ministry, the war has killed about 47,000 people. However, the world-renowned medical journal The Lancet estimated the actual death toll to be 41% higher Higher than published tolls.

In May, the U.N. humanitarian agency OCHA said more than 10,000 people were believed to be buried under rubble in Gaza, adding that it could take up to three years to recover them, given how primitive tools were in the area at the time. corpse.

Heartbroken Faraj Abu Mohsen found no trace of his son after searching for hours through the rubble of his destroyed house in Rafah. The 42-year-old’s family were returning to displaced Khan Younis when they discovered body parts and torn clothing, items he recognized as belonging to his son, about 200 meters (656 feet) from the ruins of his house.

“I had given up hope of finding him alive. After a long day of searching, as I walked back to Khan Younis, my feet stepped on some bones. I moved them aside to reveal clothes that belonged to my son— — his black shirt, blue pants and sneakers and I knew it was him,” Farage recalled sadly. He collected the remains and buried them wherever possible, promising to return for more.

“None of us expected that he only had a few bones left,” he said, his voice filled with sadness.

Identity Challenges

Heartbreaking scenes unfolded inside and outside the morgue of Nasser Hospital. Desperate families described physical features or clothing in the hope of identifying their loved ones.

“My son recently got dental implants,” one mother said.

Another father shouted: “He’s wearing blue jeans.”

Others talked about height, build or unique items like cowboy hats or patched sandals.

Even more distressing are the distinctive labels written on the shroud: “skull without jaw,” “bone fragments,” “ribs,” or “upper and lower limbs.” Medical teams record the details left behind by Palestinians killed by Israeli fire, rather than their names and ages, to help families identify the remains. Alongside these notes are descriptions of personal items found among the remains – rings, watches, shoes or damaged identity cards.

Dr. Ahmed Zahir, Forensic Advisor to the Ministry of Health in Gaza, explained that identification efforts are severely hampered by Gaza’s lack of DNA testing capabilities. He added that Israel has long restricted the access of DNA testing equipment to the Gaza Strip. “Without this technology, many bodies would remain unidentified, leaving families in permanent pain,” he said.

Dr. Dashiell outlined the identification process: The rescue team first retrieves the remains, which are then examined and documented. Record details such as the recovery location, date and any personal belongings. Given the circumstances in which these bodies were found, forensic experts rely heavily on circumstantial evidence, such as clothing or belongings, to provide guidance to the families.

“We follow the law and keep the body for up to 48 hours to give the family the opportunity to identify it. Afterwards, the body will be buried in a designated cemetery by the Department of Donation and Civil Defense, with the specific number and record kept so that when testing equipment becomes available identification in the future,” said Dr. Dharir.

He also pointed out that one-third of the remains recovered from Rafah to date (approximately 150 cases) remain unidentified.

“The most challenging cases are those involving partial remains: skulls, leg bones or chest fragments. These are carefully numbered and catalogued, but without DNA testing a clear identification is often impossible,” he added.

family in trouble

Dr. Zahir explained that Gaza’s forensic resources are currently limited, with only three experts in the southern region and none in the northern region. He added that the shortage was putting pressure on an already overstretched system, especially with the large number of remains discovered after Israeli attacks.

For families like Abu Mohammed’s, the inability to find or identify their loved ones prolongs their grief. “We just want to know his fate,” Abu Mohammed said. “Even if all that’s left of my son is his bones, we’re going to bury him and say goodbye.”

Forensic teams are facing increasing pressure, not only from families but from a growing backlog of remains. Dr. Zahir stressed the need for international assistance. “We urgently need DNA testing equipment and trained experts to help identify victims. This is not just about family closure – this is a humanitarian need,” he said.

As the effort continues, the family remains hopeful, no matter how slim. For Abu Muhammad, the search for his son had become a daily ritual, one that he could not give up despite being mentally damaged. “I’ve lost count of how many shrouds I’ve opened. I don’t know if I’ll ever find him, but I’ll keep looking,” he said.

The unidentified tragedy highlights the wider human toll of the conflict. Beyond the staggering death toll is an equally painful reality: many families are left stranded, searching for answers amid the ruins of their lives.

For many, closure feels like a distant dream—one stolen by war and a lack of resources to heal the trauma.

This article is published in partnership with For example.