On October 1, 2025, the Government Media Office in Gaza delivered a somber announcement: the number of journalists killed since the beginning of the war on October 7, 2023, had reached a staggering 254. The latest additions to this tragic toll were journalist Sami Dawoud, who worked with Rawafed TV, and his colleague Yahya Barzq, a contributor to both local and international outlets. Both men lost their lives in Israeli airstrikes, becoming emblematic of the peril faced by reporters striving to document the realities of the Gaza conflict.
The statement from the Government Media Office was unequivocal in its condemnation. It described the deaths as part of a systematic targeting of Palestinian journalists, asserting that these were not isolated incidents but deliberate attacks on media workers. The office called on international media and press unions to denounce the violence and demanded immediate action from the global community to halt the conflict and ensure the safety of journalists operating in Gaza. The responsibility for the ongoing bloodshed, it stated, rested squarely with the Israeli military and its international allies, specifically naming the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, and France.
Rights groups have echoed these concerns, arguing that repeated appeals to protect journalists in Gaza have largely gone unheeded. The risks for those reporting on the ground remain acute, with media workers facing mortal danger as they attempt to bear witness to the unfolding humanitarian disaster. The broader conflict has been devastating: over 66,000 people have been killed and more than 168,000 injured in Gaza, the majority of them women and children. The toll is not just measured in lives lost, but in worsening humanitarian conditions, including famine-related deaths that have left entire communities on the brink.
The stories of Sami Dawoud and Yahya Barzq, in particular, have resonated deeply within Gaza’s beleaguered journalist community. Dawoud’s final days were marked by a desperate search for safety. After Israel intensified its bombing campaign and issued mass expulsion orders in Gaza City, Dawoud packed up his family and fled south, seeking refuge in Deir al-Balah, an area in central Gaza that was, at least on paper, considered one of the least dangerous places in the besieged enclave. But safety proved elusive.
Within a week of his arrival, an Israeli airstrike hit the area. Dawoud’s tent was bombed, killing him, his eldest daughter Ghena, and several other Palestinians. His wife and middle daughter were wounded. According to Middle East Eye, Dawoud’s friend and colleague, photographer Yahya Barzq, remembered him as "deeply committed to keeping his wife and children safe and as comfortable as possible wherever they stayed." Barzq added, "He was extremely protective of his family, especially since his wife could not bear fear. He was always keen to make sure she felt at ease." Dawoud’s devotion to his family was apparent to all who knew him. "He always cared for his children deeply, paying attention to their clothes, education, cleanliness, and upbringing," Barzq recalled.
Dawoud’s journey to Deir al-Balah was not his first displacement. Originally from the Shujaiya neighborhood east of Gaza City, he had been forced to move multiple times since the outbreak of violence in October 2023. After a brief return home during a ceasefire in January, he was driven out again when hostilities resumed. Initially, Dawoud resisted the idea of fleeing once more, but after experiencing the renewed intensity of the attacks, he relented. In a message to friends, he confessed, "I had never imagined the level of fear and brutality he and his family experienced. From that day on, Sami was determined never to expose his family to such danger again."
Even after fleeing, Dawoud struggled to find shelter. With help from Barzq, he briefly stayed in a damaged apartment building in Gaza City, but the constant shaking from nearby explosions terrified his children. Eventually, he moved to another apartment, and later, after reaching central Gaza, he pitched a tent in what he hoped would be a safe, empty plot of land. Tragically, safety was an illusion. The Israeli airstrike that killed him and his daughter came just days after he had settled there.
Dawoud’s death sent shockwaves through Gaza’s journalist community. As Barzq explained, Dawoud had never provoked the Israeli army with his work. He had previously collaborated on an online educational channel that transformed the school curriculum into digital lessons during the coronavirus outbreak, helping students and teachers adapt to e-learning. "Sami was a cameraman and video editor. He was very skilled and professional in his work. What set him apart was that he worked quietly, with a very calm temperament. He was a man of morals, faith, and composure," Barzq said.
The tragedy did not end there. Just a day after sharing his memories of Dawoud with Middle East Eye, Barzq himself was killed in an Israeli airstrike in Deir al-Balah. The strike hit near a coffee shop where Barzq had gone to upload his latest photographs. His friend, photographer Mahmoud Abuhamda, said Barzq had only recently fled from Gaza City and was still setting up his tent on a rooftop, unable to find safer accommodation. Like Dawoud, Barzq had been desperately seeking shelter for his wife and two children.
Abuhamda rushed to the morgue at al-Aqsa Hospital to say goodbye. "I saw a spot of blood at the back of his head, and the blood was clotted, so I suspect it came from a shrapnel," he recounted. Barzq’s sense of foreboding had been strong. "He felt death was near. He always told me that he wished the war would stop because he could not guarantee surviving an air strike or shrapnel. The incident in which he was killed was always present in his mind." Barzq had also been a well-known newborn photographer in Gaza, having conducted photo sessions for hundreds of babies. In January, he shared a video montage of newborns he had photographed, many of whom were later killed in Israeli attacks. "These are children who were photographed in my studio. I witnessed their sweet laughter and the love of their parents for them, and they were killed in the blink of an eye," he wrote. "I want the war to end for everyone in general, and for the children in particular. I cannot bear to witness the suffering of the children, their crying, their fear, their screaming, and their hunger."
Barzq’s legacy, like Dawoud’s, is one of courage and humanity amid unimaginable hardship. Their deaths highlight the acute dangers faced by journalists in Gaza and the broader suffering of civilians caught in the crossfire. As the death toll of journalists rises and the humanitarian crisis deepens, their stories serve as a stark reminder of the cost of war—and the urgent need for the world to pay attention.
