Freed Palestinian prisoners celebrate and grieve during Ramadan

During Ramadan, a month of worship and family gatherings, released Palestinian prisoners in Gaza navigate a fragile balance of painful memories and newfound hopes.

In this sacred month of renewal, freedom for these released Palestinians is both a gift and a burden, with joy and sorrow intertwine as the scars of captivity meet the harsh reality of life after war.

This is the case for Yasser Abu Daqqa, 39, who was released from Israeli prisons after being held for 19 years. After his freedom, he had long imagined his life in Khan Younis, in southern Gaza.

“I have always wished to be released, even for one month so that I could spend Ramadan with my family,” Abu Daqqa told The New Arab. “I dreamed of seeing my mother cook, going to the market with my siblings, and buying food for iftar. I was certain that one day it would happen.”  

But reality was far from Abu Daqqa’s dreams. 

Experiencing Ramadan while free, but not entirely

Israel’s genocidal war that began in October 2023 shattered his world. On the first day of the war, an Israeli airstrike killed his entire 20-member family, including his parents, brothers and sisters, and their children. Only a sister, Safaa, survived.

“Ramadan this year has been unlike any other,” Abu Daqqa said, his voice heavy with sadness. “I imagined I would celebrate with my family. But today, I realise I will be praying alone, unable to share food and joy with them. I am alone now, but I will keep living because my mother wanted this for me.” 

“The Israeli occupation insists on killing us a thousand times a day. If we don’t die from torture in prisons or from the bombing outside, they want us to die from loss and deprivation,” he added. 

Despite the devastation, Abu Daqqa tries to maintain his rituals for Ramadan. In the afternoon, he goes to the market to buy desserts and sweets that his sister will prepare.

“I try to taste freedom,” he said, “But everything around me is destroyed. Khan Younis is no longer the city I left. The people I knew were gone. All I see is destruction, misery, and death.”

His sister, Safaa, struggles to balance between relief and grief. “I’m happy he’s finally out of prison, but my heart still hurts,” she said, “My mother was waiting for him to be released, and now she’s gone.”

Mohammed Bahabsa, from Khan Younis, is experiencing his first Ramadan after 13 years of imprisonment by Israel. He had long dreamed of walking Gaza’s streets as a free man. But Israel‘s war left him homeless, forcing him to live in a simple tent next to the rubble of what was once his family home.

“Conditions in Gaza are difficult, and the war has affected us all,” Bahabsa told TNA. “However, Ramadan this year is different. Even though we live in a tent, I am finally with my family and my fiancée, Ekram. After years of separation, I can finally share real moments with her,” he said, flashing his smile. 

Simple moments of happiness are enough for Bahabsa to hold on to life after years of unfinished letters and lost phone calls. His fiancée, Ekram had waited 13 years for Mohammed’s release. She had hoped they would spend Ramadan peacefully, but the reality was different.

“The situation in Gaza isn’t easy, but at least this year he is free,” she remarked. “Now I can share life with him in person instead of waiting for messages that often never arrive.” 

Bahabsa and Abu Daqqa were liberated as part of the January 2025 prisoner exchange between Hamas and Israel, mediated by Egypt, Qatar, and the US, which saw the release of around 1,900 Palestinian prisoners, including women and children.

Both of them recall the pain of Ramadan behind bars.

“Ramadan in captivity was a piece of hell,” Bahabsa said. “The Israeli occupation deprived us of our most basic rights, including eating iftar on time, praying together, and performing the rituals of the holy month.”

“The worst part was being denied family visits. Knowing they were out there, and I couldn’t see them; that was torture,” Abu Daqqa said. 

Freedom as another prison

Ahmed Dababesh, from the Shati refugee camp, experienced Ramadan in prison for the first time after being arrested during the war. He had clung to the hope of returning to his wife and daughter.

But when he was released, he learned that an Israeli airstrike on a school shelter had killed them.

“In prison, I was subjected to various kinds of torture, including being held in solitary confinement for weeks to the point where I couldn’t tell the days from each other, or even the night from the day,” he told TNA. 

“I lived with the hope of returning and seeing them again. But today, that hope is gone. I only live on their memories. Now, freedom feels like another prison, one where grief and emptiness are my only companions,” he added. 

The struggle to adapt to life after captivity involves not just rebuilding homes, but also hearts. Freedom has been a painful price for Abu Daqqa, Bahabsa, and Dababesh.

Abu Daqqa spends his evenings alone, praying for his family. Bahabsa stands in front of the ruins of his home, trying to imagine a future. Dababesh sits in silence, haunted by the memory of his wife and daughter.

“Freedom isn’t what I imagined,” Abu Daqqa said. “But maybe it’s not too late to find a reason to live.”

“Ramadan teaches us patience,” Bahabsa said. “Maybe one day, that patience will bring peace.”

For Abu Daqqa’s sister, Safaa, and Bahabsa’s fiancée, Ekram, the challenge is learning to live with the void left by loss. “We were waiting for them to return and make our family whole again,” Safaa remarked. “But the war took that chance away.”