At the United Nations General Assembly in New York this week, the plight of Gaza’s civilians and the journalists who risk everything to tell their stories took center stage. Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, in his first address to the Assembly, cited the death of Australian aid worker Zomi Frankcom and the countless journalists and civilians killed in Gaza, as he joined dozens of world leaders promoting Palestinian statehood. Australia, Britain, and Canada’s recognition of Palestine on September 21, 2025, marked a significant shift in the international landscape, despite the opposition of the United States and Israel, as reported by Reuters.
Albanese’s remarks were pointed: “The Israeli Government must accept its share of responsibility” for the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, where, he noted, tens of thousands of civilians have died. He continued, “Aid workers have been killed trying to deliver humanitarian assistance, including Australian Zomi Frankcom,” and drew attention to the journalists “killed trying to bring the truth to light.” These words resonated in a year when Gaza has become, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists, the deadliest place on earth for reporters since October 2023.
For nearly two years, Gaza’s journalists have worked under relentless danger. Hundreds, including nearly 300 by some counts, have been killed since the war’s escalation in October 2023. Many of them were photojournalists, capturing the devastation frame by frame, until their final moments. The world has become intimately familiar with their images—famine, bombed-out neighborhoods, and the unending grief of families torn apart. Yet, as one commentator in Women in Palestine reflected, far too little attention is given to those who risk everything to document this reality.
Among the new generation of Gazan voices is Plestia Alaqad, a 21-year-old journalist whose dispatches have reached millions via social media. Freshly graduated on October 7, 2023, Alaqad found herself thrust into history’s crucible. Her upcoming book, The Eyes of Gaza: A Diary of Resilience, set for release on September 30, 2025, transforms her private diaries into a haunting chronicle of collective survival. As Slate reports, Alaqad’s writing is raw and intimate: she describes photographing children in U.N. shelters, hearing the cries of the wounded, and the impossible choices journalists face—such as leaving her mother behind to reduce the risk to her family as journalists became targets.
“COOKIES!” she writes with a burst of childlike joy, savoring a rare moment of reprieve amid the horror. These fleeting details, scattered among scenes of violence and loss, are reminders that Palestinians are not the unfeeling caricatures they are sometimes portrayed to be. Instead, they are people clinging to small joys and enduring unimaginable pain.
Alaqad’s book is more than personal testimony. As she told Slate, “Nothing about genocide is about the individual. Even if I write about myself, it’s not just my story. Thousands of people are living the same story, or worse.” Her narrative begins in October 2023, introducing readers to friends and strangers living through the siege. She balances brutality and humanity, documenting both the violence and the bonds of friendship that sustain her. “Friendships in Palestine have classifications of their own,” she writes, underlining how daily life is shaped by war.
For Alaqad and her peers, the line between activism and journalism blurs. “In genocide, everyone has the right to narrate their story,” she insists. The risks are immense. “Nearly 300 journalists have been killed. It’s the deadliest time for the press.” Wearing a vest marked “press” no longer offers protection; it can make one a target. “Being a journalist is supposed to be noble, but in Gaza it feels like a crime,” she confides. The mental toll is staggering. On Day 28 of the war, she wrote, “I don’t have the energy to write every day. I’m posting less on social media because my mental health can’t tolerate this anymore. My heart aches. It’s been 28 days of literal hell.”
Photojournalist Momen Faiz’s story embodies the sacrifices made by Gaza’s media workers. As recounted in Women in Palestine, Faiz lost both legs in December 2008 during an Israeli siege but continued to document the conflict. Despite his injuries, Faiz remains active, chronicling the ongoing destruction and resistance in Gaza. “A normal day for them means living alongside their colleagues on the streets, in tents or cars, far from their wives, children and families,” the article notes. Sleep is interrupted by explosions and the cries of the wounded. The trauma is relentless. Faiz recounted the attack on Al-Ahli Hospital, where eight members of his family were killed: “Our tears and blood became one when we found our beloved martyrs. It was an indescribably painful moment.”
Faiz’s wife, Deema Aydieh, is also a journalist. They often must put down their cameras, unable to continue amid the carnage. “We are human too,” Faiz says. “Many of our colleagues have been killed and entire families have been devastated. These scenes are unbearable. How much longer can we endure this? Has humanity disappeared from the world?” These questions echo in the minds of Gaza’s journalists and, increasingly, among their international colleagues.
Valerie Zink, in her resignation from Reuters, accused major outlets of acting as “a conveyor belt for Israeli propaganda, sanitizing war crimes and dehumanizing victims.” The charge is a stark reminder of the stakes: journalism in Gaza is not just about reporting facts, but about fighting for the dignity of those caught in the conflict and holding power to account.
The international community’s response remains divided. While Australia, Britain, and Canada’s recognition of Palestine signals a growing consensus—over three-quarters of U.N. members now recognize a Palestinian state—the United States and Israel remain opposed. Albanese underscored that Australia’s decision was based on commitments from the Palestinian Authority regarding Hamas disarmament and democratic elections. Yet, the humanitarian crisis persists, and the risks for journalists and aid workers remain acute.
Notably absent from the UN’s bilateral meeting schedule was a session between Albanese and U.S. President Donald Trump, a development that Australian media labeled a “snub.” The diplomatic choreography underscores the complexities facing even those nations seeking to play a constructive role.
As the world watches, the stories of Gaza’s journalists—those who have survived, those who have fallen, and those who continue to bear witness—demand attention. Their work is a testament to resilience, truth, and the enduring hope that, someday, their sacrifices will not be in vain.