Gaza ceasefire crumbles as Israeli strikes kill 1,400 despite peace deal stall

Over 1,400 Palestinians killed since ceasefire began; 2.1 million displaced multiple times; 300+ children dead; families separated for three years; widespread malnutrition and disease in tent camps.
Every day there's a shooting. Every day there is killing and death lurking around.
A husband reflects on life under the ceasefire that promised peace but delivered only a pause in violence.
Mark

Why does the ceasefire matter if the killing hasn't stopped?

Mimi

Because it changed the scale. Before October 2024, Israel was conducting large-scale bombardment—the kind that flattens neighborhoods. The ceasefire ended that. Humanitarian aid came in. But it didn't end the war. It just changed its shape.

Luke

How reliable is the 1,400 figure? Who's counting?

Mimi

The Gaza health ministry, which the UN considers reliable. But the IDF denies knowledge of specific incidents—Fida's death, Ismail's death. So we have a count, but not always confirmation of individual cases.

Mark

What's blocking the peace deal from moving forward?

Mimi

The second phase. Netanyahu says Hamas must be disarmed first. Hamas says Israel must withdraw and end all aggression first. Neither side will move without the other moving.

Luke

And reconstruction? Is that actually impossible, or just politically blocked?

Mimi

Politically blocked. Israel controls what materials and machinery enter Gaza, citing security reasons. The territory itself is intact enough to rebuild. The money exists—Trump's plan is $2.45 billion. But the political will to let it happen isn't there.

Mark

What does daily life look like for people still there?

Mimi

Displacement, multiple times over. Tent cities that flood in winter. Children with seizures from cold. Families separated for three years. No jobs, no homes, no sense that things will change.

Luke

Is there any movement toward a resolution, or is this the new normal?

Mimi

That's the question no one can answer. The ceasefire held for a year, but it's crumbling now. Strikes are increasing. The political impasse is hardening. There's no clear path forward.

  • Israeli strikes have continued almost every day since the ceasefire began, killing over 1,400 Palestinians including 300+ children, while the IDF claims it has no record of individual civilian deaths reported to them.
  • Gaza's 2.1 million people are now compressed into less than 40% of the territory, displaced an average of seven times, living in flood-prone tent camps with no jobs, no homes, and no functioning basic services.
  • The ceasefire's second phase — which was supposed to bring full hostage releases, prisoner exchanges, and reconstruction — has collapsed into a standoff: Hamas refuses to disarm until Israeli forces withdraw; Israel refuses to withdraw until Hamas disarms.
  • Netanyahu rejected a Trump-backed disarmament plan in August and announced plans to expand Israeli military control to 70% of Gaza, while a $2.45 billion recovery proposal sits unimplemented a full year after the deal was signed.
  • Families like Fida al-Toutah's — who has been killed, whose family has fled seven times, and whose brother has now lost four siblings to the war — embody a human cost that official statements on both sides have consistently failed to account for.

A ceasefire signed to end one of the most devastating conflicts in recent memory has become, for Gaza's 2.1 million people, not a threshold of peace but a slower continuation of war. More than 1,400 Palestinians — among them a mother of five and a boy of fourteen — have been killed since the agreement took effect, while the living remain compressed into tent cities on flooded coastlines, waiting for a reconstruction that has not begun. The second phase of the peace deal has stalled between irreconcilable demands, and the distance between a signed agreement and an actual peace has revealed itself to be vast — measured not in kilometers but in lives.

A year after the ceasefire took effect in October 2024, Fida al-Toutah was killed by a gunshot to the head while sheltering in a tent in central Gaza. Her son only understood what had happened when he saw his younger brother's hands covered in her blood. She was a mother of five, and she is one of more than 1,400 Palestinians killed since the agreement was signed — figures the UN considers reliable. Her husband Ahed described the reality on the ground simply: "Every day there's a shooting. Every day there is killing and death lurking around." When the BBC asked the Israeli Defense Forces about her death, they said they had no record of it.

The ceasefire was meant to end a war that had already claimed more than 74,000 lives. For a brief moment, it seemed to hold — large-scale bombardment paused, aid flowed in, and medical supplies arrived. But it never became peace. Israel has continued launching strikes almost daily, saying it is targeting Hamas operatives. Hamas, for its part, refuses to surrender heavy weapons until Israeli forces fully withdraw. The second phase of the deal — the phase that was supposed to bring reconstruction, hostage releases, and a lasting end to hostilities — has stalled completely.

On the same day Fida died, a 14-year-old boy named Ismail al-Bardawil was shot dead near Rafah while fishing in the Mediterranean with his brothers, roughly 20 meters from shore. He is one of more than 300 children killed since the ceasefire began. The IDF said it had no information about this incident either. Both Fida and Ismail lived near the Yellow Line — the boundary between Israeli-controlled and Hamas-held territory — one of the most dangerous zones in Gaza, where Israeli forces have opened fire repeatedly.

Gaza's 2.1 million people are now squeezed into less than 40% of the territory. Among them is Amal Alabadla, an architect who once had a comfortable apartment and a career. Now she raises two boys alone in a coastal tent, separated from her husband — who was outside Gaza when the war began — for three years. Her three brothers, who helped her care for the children, were killed in separate attacks before the ceasefire. When winter comes, her tent floods and her son suffers epilepsy seizures from the cold. "Before the war, I had a job, a house, an ordinary life," she said. "Now we have no hope, nothing."

Reconstruction was promised under the peace deal but has not begun. Netanyahu rejected a Trump-backed disarmament plan in August and announced intentions to expand Israeli military control to 70% of the territory. A $2.45 billion recovery proposal remains unimplemented. One year after the ceasefire and three years after the war began, the people of Gaza are still waiting — not for victory or defeat, but for the most basic permission to rebuild. "I don't think they are telling us the truth," Amal said, "about allowing us to rebuild a safe future for our children."

A year after the ceasefire began in October 2024, Fida al-Toutah was combing her daughter's hair in a tent in central Gaza when gunfire erupted around her. Her son Ezz heard his mother shout for everyone to get down, but the bullets came too fast. He only understood what had happened when he saw his younger brother's hands covered in blood—his mother's blood. Fida, a mother of five, died from a gunshot wound to the head on September 21st. She is one of more than 1,400 Palestinians killed in Gaza since the ceasefire took effect, according to the Gaza health ministry, figures the UN considers reliable.

The ceasefire was supposed to end a war that had consumed three years and claimed more than 74,000 lives. It was meant to be a turning point: thousands of Palestinians held by Israel would be released, the remaining 48 hostages held in Gaza would come home, and the bombardment would stop. For a moment, it did. Large-scale strikes ceased. Humanitarian aid flowed in. Medical supplies arrived. But the ceasefire never became peace. Israel has continued launching strikes in Gaza almost every day. In the past week alone, more than 30 people were killed. The Israeli military says it is targeting Hamas operatives and accuses Hamas of violating the agreement. Hamas says it will not hand over heavy weapons until Israel ends all aggression and withdraws its forces. The second phase of the peace deal has stalled, locked in a dispute neither side will break.

Fida's husband, Ahed, watched the ceasefire collapse around him. "It is all lies," he said. "Every day there's a shooting. Every day there is killing and death lurking around." When the BBC asked the Israeli Defense Forces about Fida's death, they said they had no record of it. Her brother Ibrahim stood outside the tent and pointed to the holes he said were made by a volley of bullets. "This tent is just a piece of cloth," he said. "Imagine that a military vehicle came down here and fired a spray of bullets. There was also gunfire coming from the sky, from above, from quadcopters, and it was directed at unarmed civilians." Fida was the fourth of Ibrahim's siblings to be killed since the war began. The family has moved seven times, fleeing from one neighborhood to another, but safety has remained out of reach.

On the same day Fida died, a 14-year-old boy named Ismail al-Bardawil was shot dead in the al-Mawasi area of Rafah. His family told the BBC he was killed by Israeli forces while fishing in the Mediterranean Sea with his brothers, about 20 meters from shore. He is one of more than 300 children killed since the ceasefire began. The IDF said it had no information about this incident either. Both Fida and Ismail lived near the Yellow Line, the boundary that separates areas controlled by the Israeli military from areas held by Hamas. These areas are the most dangerous in Gaza because Israeli forces have opened fire there repeatedly. But there are few options to move. Gaza's 2.1 million people are now squeezed into less than 40 percent of the territory, according to the UN. The strip was densely populated before the war. Now it is suffocating.

Amal Alabadla was an architect with a comfortable apartment before the war. Now she lives in a tent on the coastline, raising two boys alone. Her husband was outside Gaza when the fighting began and they have not been reunited in three years. Her three brothers, who helped her care for the children, were killed in separate attacks before the ceasefire. "Every time the rains come, it gets flooded," she said of her tent. "I feel very scared when the wind is strong because our tent gets destroyed or damaged." During winter, her son suffers epilepsy seizures from the cold. She struggles to keep him dry and warm. "Before the war, I had a job, a house, an ordinary life, but then everything turned upside down," she said. "Now we have no hope, nothing. It's only about survival day by day, to keep my kids alive, clean, healthy and fed." Some camps have been built below sea level and face even greater risk of flooding.

The October 2025 peace deal promised reconstruction, but rebuilding has not begun. It remains stuck in limbo, caught between competing demands. In May, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said he had directed the military to increase the area of Gaza under Israeli control to 70 percent. Earlier this year, President Trump proposed a plan to disarm Hamas, but Netanyahu rejected it in August, saying no military withdrawal would happen until Hamas was "genuinely" disarmed. Trump's Board of Peace has also proposed a recovery plan worth $2.45 billion, but one year after the ceasefire and three years after the war began, many Palestinians see no evidence that anything will change. "We are struggling and not being allowed to rebuild," Amal said. "I don't think they are telling us the truth about allowing us to rebuild a safe future for our children."

It is all lies. Every day there's a shooting. Every day there is killing and death lurking around.
— Ahed, Fida al-Toutah's husband
Before the war, I had a job, a house, an ordinary life, but then everything turned upside down. Now we have no hope, nothing. It's only about survival day by day.
— Amal Alabadla, architect now living in a tent
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