War's toll on Gaza's children
Children have always been at the mercy of the lottery of their birthplace.
For Gaza's young, that's meant a homeland ruled by a terrorist organization, Hamas; decades of war and tension with the neighboring state of Israel; and life in one of the world's poorest and most densely populated places.
But for Gaza's children, it was home.
For this week's 60 Minutes, correspondent Scott Pelley spoke to a group of kids who were medevaced from Gaza to Qatar to be treated for their injuries in the current war. There, 60 Minutes got a look at what it will take to heal — and what it will mean to go home.
"Life was good," a 16-year-old girl named Sara told Pelley when asked about life in Gaza before the war. "Even though it wasn't luxurious, we were content. We could go out and about, and family gatherings were something special."
Her younger sister, Lama, agreed. "Gaza was more than just a city," she said. "It was our little paradise."
Their "paradise" was lost on Oct. 7, 2023. Hamas attacked Israel, an atrocity that murdered 1,200 civilians — including 40 children — and captured 251. Israel's war to free its hostages and defeat Hamas has killed 50,000 — including 15,000 children — according to the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry.
Israel says Hamas fighters embed themselves in civilian areas and underneath hospitals.
The U.N. says Gaza is now the deadliest place on Earth to be a child — and children under 18 make up nearly half of the population.
Surviving children have lost limbs and loved ones and now must heal where hospitals themselves are in critical condition. But a few lucky ones have made it out. During the siege, Israel has allowed the occasional evacuation of the critically wounded, so more than 300 children left Gaza for one of the richest places on earth: Doha, Qatar.
There, the $8 billion Sidra Medicine, a hospital for women and children, dedicated a ward to Gaza's wounded young.
At Sidra, an 11-year-old boy named Yahya underwent skull surgery and a bone graft to heal him from the airstrike that killed both of his parents.
"The whole building we were in was bombed," he told Pelley. "I opened my eyes in the hospital and had no idea where I was."
When 16-year-old Sara was injured, she said she was sheltering inside a house when it was bombed. Her brother and twin sister died.
"When they took me to the hospital, I did not feel anything," she said. "I did not even feel that I was suffering from burns. None of the injured felt that they were injured. All I could see was black ash covering my arms."
In Doha, 60 Minutes watched as the Palestinian kids returned to the essential work of childhood: play. They're living in housing that was built for the 2022 World Cup, its green astroturf a stark contrast to the muted gray dust of Gaza today.
60 Minutes wanted to know: After all that has happened, is Gaza still home? How many of these children want to return?
When Pelley asked the question, every child's hand shot up.
"I want to go back to Gaza," Sara said. "I want to create new memories there. Even though the people who passed away are gone, I want to go back to visit their graves and rebuild Gaza. I want to become an engineer so I can rebuild it and make it even better than before."
A 10-year-old girl named Fatima told Pelley she wants to return to see her siblings again. "It's been so long," she said. "I want to become a neurologist to help heal the injured children in Gaza."
Yahya told Pelley he, too, wants to return to Gaza to reunite with his extended family — and to help his homeland. "I've decided to pursue engineering," he said. "While I used to aspire to be a doctor, I now feel drawn to engineering, both to contribute to my country's reconstruction and because it's something I'm passionate about."
Healing the landscape of Gaza will take a generation — their generation, the children of war. One of these children came to Doha with shrapnel in her skull and came to the 60 Minutes interview with a song on her lips.
She sang "Atouna El Toufoule," a song popularized in Lebanon in the early 1980s. "My land is small, just like me," the lyrics go. "Give us peace, give us childhood, give us peace."
The video above was produced by Brit McCandless Farmer and edited by Scott Rosann.
