NAZARETH, Israel (AP) — The last time 23-year-old Mais al-Gharam saw her seven brothers and sisters was in the Gaza Strip, just two months before the war began. She had since moved to Israel, and in the time that followed, an Israeli airstrike destroyed her family’s home — taking the lives of her mother, father, and younger brother.
Still, she held onto hope. On a recent day, Mais stood outside Israel’s Kerem Shalom crossing, eyes fixed on the gate, waiting for the moment her surviving siblings would walk through.
“We never stopped being a family,” said Mais, the eldest of eight children born to a father from Gaza and a mother who was a Palestinian citizen of Israel. “But every day I wondered whether I’d see them again.”
This month, after years of legal effort involving Mais and a team of lawyers, the family was finally together again. They reunited outside the border crossing and then traveled to the city of Nazareth, where relatives on their mother’s side welcomed them with embraces and homemade meals.
The moment was layered with happiness, sorrow, and a sense of disbelief. Against enormous odds, Mais had managed to secure Israeli passports for her Gaza-born siblings — ranging in age from 8 to 22 — and arranged for them to come live with her.
But even in reunion, some things could never be restored.
“It’s like coming back from the grave,” said Faraj al-Gharam, the siblings’ maternal grandfather, speaking of his grandchildren. In Gaza, he said, “human life has no value.”
The family’s story traces back to 2002, when Murad al-Gharam, a Gaza native, came to Israel on a temporary work permit to do construction. While there, he met and married Amal Karim, a Palestinian citizen of Israel from Nazareth. The couple soon welcomed their first child, a daughter they named Mais.
At one time, such cross-border marriages were not uncommon among Palestinians living in the West Bank, Gaza, and Israel. But two Palestinian uprisings and Israel’s response gradually sealed off the occupied territories, making such connections increasingly rare.
Murad and Amal’s relationship developed during the height of the Second Intifada. As the violence intensified, Israel tightened work permits for Palestinians, putting Murad’s ability to remain in Israel at risk.
The couple ultimately relocated to Gaza permanently, settling in Nuseirat, a densely populated refugee camp in the central part of the territory. Murad worked as a taxi driver, and together he and Amal raised seven more children: Zuhour, 22; Jwaher, 21; Sabreen, 20; Ghfran, 17; Fady, 16; Maisara, 11; and Arjwan, 8.
“We lived here together as a family … and never lacked anything,” Zuhour recalled.
Then came October 7, 2023.
When Hamas-led militants launched an attack on southern Israel — killing around 1,200 people and taking 251 others hostage — the al-Gharams became one of what rights groups estimated to be more than 300 so-called “divided families” with members on both sides of the border.
As Israel launched a retaliatory military campaign and prepared for a large-scale ground invasion, the family faced a painful decision. Mais had already returned to Nazareth, where she had found work and gotten married. The seven children born in Gaza were entitled to apply for Israeli citizenship through their mother, but their father had no such path available to him.
Under Israeli law, Palestinian spouses of Israeli citizens are generally not eligible for permanent residency. Leaving Gaza would have meant leaving Murad behind.
“We said, ‘Either we all leave together, or we all stay together,’” Zuhour said.
So the family chose to stay and endure the war.
About 160 kilometers, or roughly 100 miles, away, Mais spent each day anxiously waiting for any word from her family — updates that grew increasingly scarce after Israel cut off Gaza’s electricity and disrupted cellphone and internet access.
Throughout the first half of 2024, the al-Gharam family was forced to relocate at least seven times, eventually ending up in Rafah in southern Gaza — before Israeli forces moved into that area as well.
They ultimately returned to Nuseirat, about 10 kilometers south of Gaza City, moving back into the house where the children had grown up. The neighborhood, while familiar, was also the scene of frequent airstrikes on schools and apartment buildings that Israel said were being used by Hamas.
At 6 a.m. on July 10, 2024, a strike hit their home directly. Walls collapsed and debris rained down from the ceiling. Disoriented and injured, the siblings ran into the street, crying out for help.
Jwaher later said the shock was so severe she didn’t even realize at first that her leg and fingers had been fractured.
The survivors were rushed westward to Al Aqsa Hospital in the city of Deir al-Balah. There, doctors treated their injuries and delivered devastating news: their mother, father, and brother Maisara had all been killed.
“Suddenly the burden fell on us,” Sabreen said.
In the months that followed, the siblings took on adult responsibilities to keep the household going. They cooked, cleaned, and gathered firewood to boil water and stay warm. They even opened a small bakery in the neighborhood to earn money, while also relying on charity and financial support sent by relatives in Nazareth.
“We were forced — each of us — to take on a role that wasn’t ours,” Fady said.
The Israeli military did not respond when asked to comment on the airstrike.
While her siblings struggled to survive in Gaza, Mais was working urgently on the other side of the border. On the very day of the strike, she contacted HaMoked, an Israeli rights organization, to begin the complex legal process of bringing her siblings to Nazareth. Together, they began sending letters to the Israeli Interior Ministry and COGAT, the military agency responsible for overseeing crossings and humanitarian operations in Gaza.
When she learned her parents and brother had died, “it was the biggest shock I think I’ve ever gone through in my life,” she said.
The path to reunification was filled with legal hurdles. Mais needed entry permits for her siblings, a court order naming Zuhour — the eldest sibling remaining in Gaza — as legal guardian for the younger children, and six separate successful applications for Israeli citizenship.
According to HaMoked, the Israeli Interior Ministry initially turned down the family’s request to use a divided family reunification procedure, citing the death of their mother.
The family was then required to undergo DNA testing to confirm the siblings’ biological relationship to Mais as an Israeli citizen. After those results came back, the siblings had to make a separate trip to the Kerem Shalom crossing just to sign the paperwork for their Israeli passports.
They finally entered Israel on July 8 — nearly two years to the day from the deadly strike that had shattered their family.
The half-day drive to Nazareth carried them from the ruins of Gaza past Israel’s green farmland and modern urban centers. Upon arriving, the siblings spoke of simple, everyday hopes: spending time with family, attending school, and seeing doctors. Above all, they said, they had accomplished what mattered most.
“Family,” Jwaher said, “is the most important thing.”
