“I was going to buy falafel,” says Mohammed Hassan. “On the way home, I looked up and saw a rocket heading towards me. I tried to run, but it was too fast. I found myself pinned to the wall, and my foot had been blown off.”

Brought to Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, the young boy looks down at his heavily bandaged left leg, and the stump where his foot used to be.

In another area of the hospital, a small child, Maryam Abu Alba, is crying in pain. “The neighbour’s house was bombed, and their home was hit,” says her grandmother. “One of her legs had to be amputated, and metal plates had to be inserted into the other one, which was fractured. She is in severe pain.”

Earlier this year, the UN humanitarian aid coordination agency OCHA estimated that 4,500 new amputees require prosthetics, in addition to the 2,000 existing cases requiring maintenance and follow-up care, while about 24,000 injured people required rehabilitation.

Health facilities are overwhelmed with many patients undergoing multiple surgeries without adequate medical supplies, including anaesthesia.

Desperately seeking food

In May, as supply routes for UN humanitarian convoys were interrupted, the number of distribution points of aid dropped from 400 dotted across the Gaza strip to a handful of hubs operated by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation.

Given the shortage of humanitarian aid and diminished capacity, thousands of Palestinians have been killed or injured since May while seeking food.  Among the wounded are children and parents who, despite losing limbs, continue to search for food and water.

This comes as a UN-backed food security report has just concluded that famine is confirmed in Gaza governorate, where half a million people are trapped in conditions of starvation, malnutrition and death.

Ibrahim Abdel Nabi was one of the many Palestinians who headed to the hubs in the hope of finding desperately needed provisions for their families.

In his tent at a displacement site in the coastal Al-Mawasi area of Khan Younis, Mr. Nabi, surrounded by his wife and children, explains how the journey ended in disaster and life-changing injuries.

“When I arrived at the Al-Alam area, west of Rafah, I was hit by an explosive bullet in my leg. I was bleeding for about an hour and a half, and no one came to help me. They were all trying to find food for their children.”

Eventually, a group of people came to his rescue and took him to the nearby Red Cross hospital.

“I stayed there for about a month and a half, undergoing about 12 operations. I became malnourished and lost a lot of blood. Infection spread, and more of my leg had to be amputated.”

Ibrahim Abdel Nabi, a Palestinian displaced in Gaza, sitting on a chair while his wife helps him wear the handmade prosthetic limb.

‘I made my prosthetic leg’

As Mr. Nabi was trying to recover, he was aware that his family were still in need of food. Despite the pain, he decided to make a simple prosthesis from materials he could find to allow him to get back on his feet and make fresh attempts to find food and water.

“The prosthesis injures my leg,” he said. “It causes inflammation and increases the pain. We don’t have medical care or supplies, but I will use it no matter how much it hurts.”

As he speaks, Mr. Nabi’s wife begins to cry. “God willing, we will live through this experience,” she says.

Mr. Nabi gets up on crutches and heads to a nearby tent, where his wife helps him to put on the crude prosthesis.

“Don’t strain yourself,” she repeats, over and over. “Take your time. Walk slowly.”

Her journey into humanitarian work began after years of serving in hospitals in Aden, where she witnessed firsthand the struggles vulnerable communities face in accessing healthcare services.

“In Aden, I worked at a private hospital,” she recalled. “I found that many people couldn’t afford treatment. That reality pushed me to find a way to help those left behind.”

She decided to relocate to Ma’rib, a city sheltering hundreds of thousands of people displaced by the conflict and a key transit hub for migrants making the perilous journey from the Horn of Africa through Yemen, with a clear goal in mind: to serve those who could not afford medical treatment.

‘Migrants who reach us are traumatised’

Dr. Nouf said she found her calling at the centre, which provides primary healthcare services to vulnerable groups, especially those on the move.

“Migrants who reach us are traumatised,” she explained. “Whether it’s hunger, fear of death or the unknown, it results in physical, psychological or neurological shocks.”

Many arrive with serious, sometimes permanent, injuries. Women in particular often carry visible and invisible scars from abuse suffered along irregular migration routes into the country.

“There are times when I emotionally struggle with what I see and hear,” she said. “But, helping these people and watching them recover fuels my passion and determination to continue.”

Listening to their stories filled with pain, fear and resilience, Dr. Nouf does everything she can to help, assessing each case, providing emergency support and when needed, referring patients to specialised services. From treatment for contagious diseases to care for physical and psychological traumas, MRP also offers protection services for survivors and victims who experienced violence, exploitation and abuse.”

From young migrant to aid worker

Dr. Nouf is not alone in this mission of delivering lifesaving assistance to migrants and Yemenis in need. She works together with a dedicated team of colleagues from diverse backgrounds who tirelessly attend to numerous patients each day, among them Khalid, a 22-year-old Ethiopian whose own migration journey to Ma’rib is a testament to resilience and compassion.

Khalid arrived in Yemen in 2021, heartbroken after his school in Ethiopia refused to let him return due to illness-related absence. Frustrated, he left Ethiopia with smugglers, enduring a grueling 10-day trek through the desert and surviving on shared biscuits. Upon reaching Aden, he found no comfort or assistance, so he continued his journey to Ma’rib where some of his relatives live.

Once in Ma’rib, Khalid was welcomed by his community, who brought him clothes and hosted him. A month later, he began working as a cleaner at a local hospital, a job he held for three years.

‘I’ve been through the same experience’

At the hospital, Khalid encountered other migrants seeking treatment and advocated for their care. He spoke with administrators, urging them to treat these vulnerable individuals for free. His reputation grew, and soon, anyone in need turned to Khalid for help.

“I help other migrants because I’ve been through the same experience,” he said. “I know how support can make the suffering less.”

Eventually, Khalid received the opportunity to work in the MRP, where he can help migrants access services and provide translation support.

“People arrive here suffering from poor nutrition, amoebiasis and malaria. Some bear physical injuries caused during torture for ransom at the hands of traffickers,” he said. “I am thankful to the donors who keep this facility running. It saves lives every day through vital healthcare services.”