As the world marks nearly a year since Israel’s war with Gaza began in October 2023, the toll on journalists and civilians alike has reached harrowing new heights. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), the conflict has become the deadliest period for journalists since records began in 1992, with at least 235 journalists killed and 86 imprisoned. Of those killed, 195 were Palestinian journalists in Gaza—a stark indicator of the disproportionate risk faced by those reporting from within the besieged enclave.
The scale of devastation was underscored again on September 29, 2025, when Palestinian Ambassador to India Abdullah Abu Shawesh addressed the Palestine Solidarity Conference at the International Media Festival of Kerala. He described Gaza as being "in the eye of Israeli bombardment," noting that more than 15,000 tonnes of explosives have been dropped on the territory since the war’s onset. The ambassador’s words were unflinching: "The offensive amounts to genocide and a propaganda war," he said, directly accusing Israel of not only targeting civilians but also deliberately silencing journalists who seek to report the truth.
Ambassador Abu Shawesh’s remarks resonated deeply at the festival, which opened with a powerful expression of solidarity for Palestine. The event featured films, photographs, and tributes to journalists killed in the conflict. A collage of short films supported the Palestinian cause, while a photo exhibition captured the devastation of war. Portraits of over 300 journalists who lost their lives reporting from conflict zones were displayed as a mark of respect. The ambassador urged attendees to share images of the atrocities online: "Let those images of mutilated children and our suffering haunt their leaders."
Kerala’s Finance Minister K N Balagopal echoed these sentiments, emphasizing the state’s longstanding empathy for the Palestinian struggle. "It is heartbreaking that more than 65,000 people, including many journalists, have died in this conflict," he said. The opening day of the festival combined cultural programs, films, and personal testimonies, reaffirming Kerala’s enduring solidarity with Palestine. Symbolic gestures abounded: balloons in the colors of the Palestinian flag were released, and kites bearing the message "Kites rise, so will Palestine" soared above the Tagore Theatre, embodying hope and resilience amid tragedy.
At the heart of this unfolding tragedy is the story of journalists—particularly Palestinian journalists—who have risked and too often lost their lives to document the reality of war. Plestia Alaqad, a Gazan journalist who rose to prominence through her on-the-ground reporting during the early days of the bombardment, was forced to flee Gaza to protect herself and her family. Her viral TikToks and contributions to The Guardian have drawn global attention, but it is her book, The Eyes of Gaza: A Diary of Resilience, that offers perhaps the most intimate account of life under siege.
Originally released in April 2025, Alaqad’s book has been updated and re-released on September 30, 2025, now featuring an afterword and photographs that document the evolving conflict. In a recent interview with Sojourners, Alaqad explained her motivation: "For the first version of the book, I wanted people to just imagine things for themselves and for them to paint their own pictures. But for this version, I was like, ‘OK, this is history. It needs to be documented, and these pictures are documentation of it.’"
The book and Alaqad’s testimony shine a light on the often-overlooked human cost of the conflict. She describes the destruction of homes not as mere statistics, but as the erasure of memories and identities. "This isn’t just like a building that they’re bombing. This is someone’s house. This is someone’s everything, and the memories of your house will never be replaced," she told Sojourners. She also highlighted the daily struggles faced by women and girls in Gaza, such as the lack of clean bathrooms for menstruation—a detail rarely seen on television but deeply emblematic of the humanitarian crisis.
In her book, Alaqad writes, "It would seem that the eyes and ears of the world aren’t interested in Palestinian life, only in Palestinian death." She argues that this can change if the media shifts its focus to the stories of those who survive, not just those who are mourned after their deaths. "Simply, it can be changed by the media reporting on the ones who are alive and reporting on their stories, rather than only honoring them after they are killed," she said. Alaqad is critical of the tendency to only recognize Palestinian lives posthumously, urging journalists and the public alike to act before it is too late: "There are thousands of Hind Rajabs that we could try and save right now. We don’t need to wait for them to get killed, so only then will we start making movies about them or honoring them, right? Like, how about we try to save their lives?"
Despite the relentless violence, Alaqad insists that Gaza’s story is not solely one of suffering. She speaks of a profound sense of unity and resilience among Gazans: "While many have been displaced and lost their lives, we remain determined to live on, and we refuse to let the losses we’ve suffered dictate our future." She describes Gaza as a place of belonging, where, paradoxically, she feels the safest—"because it’s home." Even as the threat of death looms daily, she maintains, "[Gaza] is the only place where I feel completely safe, minus the occupation and getting killed."
The question of how Western journalists and the global media can support their Palestinian counterparts is a recurring theme in Alaqad’s reflections. She calls for honesty and accuracy in reporting, urging the use of correct terminology and a focus on amplifying Palestinian voices rather than speaking over them. "They can begin by calling things as they are and not calling a genocide a conflict. And by treating these stories as if they are their own stories and using the right terminology," she said. Alaqad also stresses the importance of giving Palestinians a platform to tell their own stories.
The risks for those who speak out in support of Palestinians are real and growing, as evidenced by the cases of Mahmoud Khalil and Mohsen Mahdawi. Yet Alaqad remains resolute: "If we are all speaking out about Palestine, they can’t put us all in jail." For her, the moral imperative is clear. "If they don’t have it within them, they don’t have any humanity or a moral compass. Then that’s on them. It’s not my job to convince people to see that there’s a livestream genocide happening." She adds, "You can’t expect a genocide survivor, who still has friends and family back in Gaza, to be bothered about trying to convince the world of what’s happening. Because they all have access to social media, and it’s all over the media and the TV. You just need to open your eyes."
As the bombs continue to fall and the world debates terminology, the stories of Gaza’s journalists and civilians demand to be heard—unfiltered, unvarnished, and unforgotten.