In the shattered landscape of central Gaza, a boy sits slumped amid the rubble of an overnight Israeli airstrike on 29 October. The attack on Nuseirat killed at least 50 Palestinians, a stark symbol of a conflict that grinds on despite a declared cessation of hostilities. For families like that of Hala Abu Assi, the term 'ceasefire' rings hollow, masking a brutal reality where violence and profound misery persist.
A Truce in Name Only: The Unending Violence
When nine-year-old Jumaa and ten-year-old Fadi Abu Assi went to collect firewood in Khan Younis, their parents believed they were safe. A US-brokered ceasefire had been announced on 10 October. Their mother, Hala, was making tea in the family's tent when she heard the explosion of a missile fired by an Israeli drone. She ran, but it was too late. The boys were killed at "a time when bloodshed was supposed to stop," she said.
Their story is tragically common. Since the truce was declared, Israeli forces have killed more than 360 Palestinians in Gaza. According to United Nations figures, at least 70 of those killed were children. While the daily death toll has fallen from an average of 90 per day during the preceding two years of war, the current rate of around seven fatalities a day still constitutes an active conflict by most standards.
The Israeli military acknowledged the drone strike that killed the Abu Assi brothers, describing the young boys gathering wood as "suspects" who threatened Israeli soldiers. This reflects an ongoing shoot-to-kill policy around military positions, underscoring the fragile and lethal nature of the so-called ceasefire.
The Hardening 'Yellow Line' and Gaza's Fragmented Future
The ceasefire has physically redrawn the map of Gaza. Israeli forces have withdrawn to a "yellow line" that now bifurcates the territory, giving Israel control of 58% of the land, including the majority of Gaza's fertile farmland. The Palestinian population is largely confined to the remaining 42%, barren coastal sand dunes described in US planning documents as a "red zone" to be left in ruins.
This partition shows signs of becoming permanent. The Israeli army is building concrete outposts along the boundary and continues to flatten Palestinian neighbourhoods on its side. Meanwhile, US plans envision the creation of "Alternative Safe Communities" (ASCs)—fenced camps of prefabricated units or shipping containers with shared facilities. These would house vetted Palestinians, excluding anyone with ties to Hamas, even distant relatives.
Humanitarian organisations and European countries have refused to participate in ASC planning, fearing it could be a tool for coercive displacement and a violation of international law. Amjad Iraqi of the International Crisis Group criticised the approach, stating it ignores land ownership and existing communities, breaking "every international law in the book." Even if built, a pilot ASC in Rafah would house only 25,000 people, just 1% of Gaza's population.
Dire Conditions and a Complicit International Response
For Gaza's 2.2 million Palestinians, life remains a desperate struggle for survival. Nine in ten are without homes, with 81% of dwellings destroyed or severely damaged. Most live in tents, vulnerable to winter floods. Heavy rains in November washed away thousands of shelters, with floodwater mixing with overflowing sewage, raising fears of cholera outbreaks.
While aid deliveries have increased from an average of 91 to 133 trucks a day since the truce, and commercial shipments have nearly quadrupled, the total inflow remains below the pre-war average of 600 trucks. Prices have fallen but basics are still out of reach for a population that has exhausted its savings. A single egg costs four shekels (93p), and a tent can cost up to 2,000 shekels (£462).
International coordination happens through the Civil-Military Coordination Centre (CMCC) in Kiryat Gat, Israel, staffed by Israeli and US militaries and liaison officers from other supporting countries. There is no Palestinian representation. Observers like former Israeli negotiator Daniel Levy warn that by engaging here without securing political progress, the world risks being complicit in maintaining inhuman conditions. He stated, "An army that has just committed a genocide has 30, 40 other militaries now collaborating with it."
For Palestinians like Faiq al-Sakani, living 500 metres from the "yellow line" in Gaza City, anxiety is constant. "It feels as if the war is still ongoing and there has been no ceasefire," he said. "It is unbearable; there is no sign of normal life at all." As the partition hardens and violence simmers, the illusion of a ceasefire only deepens the ordeal for those trapped in Gaza's shrinking, shattered landscape.
