For many children and mothers around the world, Mother’s Day holds different meanings.
For some, it is a day of warmth, love, and celebration, while for others, it offers an opportunity to express gratitude through gifts and flowers.
Around the world, Mother’s Day is celebrated on different dates, and in many Arab countries, 21 March marks the occasion.
However, not everyone will celebrate this day. In Palestine, particularly, the ongoing Israeli occupation has cast a dark shadow over Mother’s Day.
Since October 7, 2023, more than 25,000 women and children have been killed in Israel’s genocide in Gaza, with at least 17,000 mothers burying their children and over 50,000 pregnant women losing their unborn babies.
Recently, Israel resumed its assault on Gaza, violating the ceasefire agreement and launching violent raids that killed more than 430 people and injured over 600, according to the Palestinian Ministry of Health.
Given these numbers, it’s clear why Mother’s Day has been — and will continue to be — a dark day for Gazans.
Though, it was not always like this.
As many Gazans remember, Mother’s Day used to be a time when streets were filled with flowers, especially near school gates, and after class, children would rush to buy small gifts to surprise their mothers, while shops competed to stock shelves with wrapped presents and cards, each carrying messages of love and appreciation.
Today, however, those memories feel distant.
For many in Gaza, Mother’s Day has lost its significance. What was once a day of joy and celebration is now overshadowed by unimaginable loss.
Take Zain Mahna, an eight-year-old boy who lost his mother four months ago due to Israel’s genocide.
Every night, he sleeps on the cold earth of her grave, holding onto the soil as if it brings him closer to her.
“I don’t fear anything. I want to sleep on my mum’s lap,” Zain said when asked how he isn’t afraid to be alone in the graveyard at midnight.
Deprived of his mother’s warmth and love, Zain shared that he visits her grave to tell her about his day. He whispers his secrets to her, hoping to hear her voice again.
“I miss her so much. I wish she could come out just for five minutes so I can hug and kiss her,” Zain said, his voice trembling with sorrow.
Searching for strength
Like thousands of other children, Zain will not be able to hold his mother in his arms or give her flowers this Mother’s Day. Instead, he will lie beside her grave, planting flowers in the soil, with tears streaming down his face.
That being said, for many in Gaza, finding a grave to visit has become a luxury they no longer have.
As witnessed by many, including journalists, countless Gazans — mothers included — have been killed and buried beneath rubble, never receiving a proper burial.
Thousands remain trapped under the debris, leaving families with no place to grieve. Others were torn apart, making it impossible to bury them properly.
Fayza Darwish, 19, is one of many who lost her mother in these tragic circumstances.
A dedicated student, she always saw her mother, Samaher Darwish, as her biggest supporter.
Samaher, a respected biology teacher, always encouraged Fayza to reach her full potential.
In November 2023, after Gaza’s universities were destroyed, Samaher urged Fayza to go abroad to continue her studies.
At first, Fayza hesitated, not wanting to leave her family during such dangerous times. But her mother’s encouragement, along with her own desire to make her proud, convinced her to go.
Fayza said goodbye to her mother, thinking she would return soon to fulfil Samaher’s dream of seeing her succeed. But that would be their final farewell. That evening, Samaher was killed in a massacre carried out by Israeli troops in Al Nuseirat camp, where she and 20 other family members lost their lives.
As Fayza recalls, the last words her mother sent her in a voice message were: “How are you, mama? I hope you’re doing well. We’re fine; please tell us how you are. I hope you’ve arrived safely, inshallah. Take care, my dear, take care.”
Fayza shares with The New Arab, “When I finally got internet access, I listened to that voice message — the last words my mother ever sent me. I replied, even though I knew she would never see it. But to this day, I still wait for her reply.”
“Every morning, I listen to her voice, searching for the strength to face another day without her,” Fayza continues.
For Fayza, that voice message is all she has left of her mother. It is her only comfort in exile and her only companion this Mother’s Day.
To be called ‘mama’ again
On the other side of Gaza’s suffering, countless mothers are grappling with the loss of their children — the very apple of their eye and a part of their soul.
Abeer Nassar, a Palestinian mother, had two young children — Ameer, five, and Hoor, two.
Her family meant everything to her. But in an instant, Israeli forces tore her world apart, killing both of her children and her husband, leaving her alone in this cruel world.
This Mother’s Day, Abeer’s only wish is simple, yet heart-wrenching: “I wish I could hear Ameer and Hoor calling me ‘mama’ again.”
But this wish cannot be granted, and Abeer now faces a grief no mother should have to endure.
With Israel continuing to violate the Gaza ceasefire deal, this is the reality in Gaza: unless the violence ends, each day will remain one of heartbreak, and Mother’s Day will be a day of sorrow — filled with graves instead of flowers, and grief instead of joy.
Esraa Abo Qamar is a Gaza-based writer
