Palestinians Return Home to Devastation as Gaza Ceasefire Unveils the True Cost of War

When the long-awaited ceasefire finally took hold, thousands of displaced Palestinians began the heart-wrenching journey back to what once were their homes. The coastal road leading to Gaza City filled with families — weary, hopeful, and heartbroken — returning not to houses, but to memories buried beneath rubble.

“I thanked God when I saw my house still standing,” said Ismail Zayda, 40, from Sheikh Radwan district. “But the neighbourhood is gone — flattened. My neighbours’ homes, the streets I grew up on — all gone.”

In Khan Younis, the once-bustling southern city, silence filled the air as survivors picked through ruins that barely resembled streets. Ahmed al-Brim, a father pushing a bicycle loaded with scrap wood, said it was all he could find to keep his family warm. “Our area is exterminated,” he said. “We have nothing left — no clothes, no furniture, not even our winter blankets.”

Palestinian health officials confirmed that over 100 bodies were recovered as Israeli forces pulled back. The ceasefire, brokered under U.S. President Donald Trump’s 20-point plan, marks the first tangible step toward ending a war that has ravaged Gaza for nearly two years.

While Trump expressed optimism — “They’re all tired of fighting,” he said — both Israelis and Palestinians remain cautious. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu warned that Hamas must disarm, “the easy way or the hard way.”

The agreement calls for Israeli troops to withdraw from urban centers while still maintaining control over large portions of Gaza. Meanwhile, Hamas leaders insist that Gaza’s future must remain a Palestinian matter, rejecting any form of “foreign guardianship.”

For many Gazans, though, politics fade into the background. What matters now is survival, rebuilding, and the faint glimmer of peace. Mahdi Saqla, walking with his family toward the wreckage of their former home, said softly, “There are no homes anymore — only dust and stones. But to stand where our house once was… that is joy enough. For two years, we’ve been running. Maybe now, we can stop.”

As aid trucks line up at Gaza’s borders and prisoners on both sides prepare for release, hope begins to flicker — fragile, but alive. After two years of relentless pain, Gaza’s people return home, not to walls or roofs, but to the soil that still remembers them.