Ceasefire deal finalised, but what about the generations that were wiped out?

Ceasefire deal marks fragile hope for Gaza after 15 months of brutal violence, yet justice remains elusive

Fifteen months. That makes four hundred and fifty-six days. If I were good at math, I would have counted the hours, minutes, and seconds as well—because the Palestinians must have. They must have counted every second of the horrific violence inflicted by Israel, every moment before they or their loved ones lost their lives.

A ceasefire deal was reached after fifteen long months of journalists documenting the harrowing details of a war that killed innocent people, bombed hospitals, rendered universities non-functional, left infrastructure in shambles, and destroyed cities. Yet, the ceasefire takes the rebuilding of the city into its ‘third’ phase.

When we speak of generations being wiped off the map, I think of Zein, a two-month-old member of the al-Najjar family. They lived near Deir el-Balah in central Gaza. On October 10, 2023, an Israeli airstrike killed 18 family members, including five children and three women, and injured 23 others.

According to Al-Jazeera’s ‘Know Their Names,’ a blog dedicated to monitoring the number of deaths in Gaza, over 17,000 children have lost one or both parents.

In the early hours of October 26, 2023, an Israeli airstrike hit the al-Astal family’s home in Khan Younis. The attack killed at least 38 family members across three generations, including seven women and 20 children.

The United Nations has called Gaza a graveyard for thousands of children.

Many of these kids have endured the trauma of repeated wars. From birth, they have lived under an Israeli blockade that impacts every part of their lives. Moreover, Israel's attacks on Gaza have completely wiped out 902 families, removing them from the civil registry.

This means every member of these families was killed over the past year. Another 1,364 Palestinian families have just one surviving member left. Meanwhile, 3,472 families now have only two members remaining.

The Israel-Gaza ceasefire agreement, finalized on January 15, 2025, outlines a structured plan to halt hostilities and address humanitarian concerns. The deal is divided into three phases, each lasting 42 days, with specific actions and commitments from both Israel and Hamas.

The agreement was brokered with the mediation of the United States, Qatar, and Egypt, and has received international support.

But this isn’t the first time the world has seen such devastation. The atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 left scars on humanity that persist even today. Generations in these cities are still haunted by the aftermath. Children born decades later suffer from genetic abnormalities caused by radiation exposure. Mental trauma passed down through families has reshaped how they live, love, and hope. The war didn’t end with the bombings—it seeded a lifetime of suffering that continues to grow.

This parallel is haunting when we look at Gaza. Wars don’t just destroy cities; they obliterate futures. Families that could have thrived are now just memories. The children who could have grown into teachers, doctors, or artists will never see adulthood. They won’t laugh, love, or dream. Their potential has been stolen, and the world is poorer for it.

Entire generations in Gaza have been wiped out, leaving behind a void that cannot be filled. Families who once shared dreams, laughter, and futures are now mere numbers in grim statistics. How does a community recover when the very fabric of its existence has been torn apart? Graduates who once walked proudly across the campuses of universities that no longer exist are left with diplomas that feel like remnants of another world. The hospitals where doctors saved lives are now reduced to rubble, their absence a haunting reminder that even places meant to heal were not spared. The stories of children who had their futures stolen and parents who held lifeless bodies in their arms will echo for decades.

For those who survive, normalcy feels like an impossible dream. The images they’ve witnessed—buildings collapsing, families buried under debris, streets painted with blood—are seared into their minds. The psychological scars of living through ceaseless bombings, displacement, and unimaginable loss cannot simply be erased. Generational trauma will ripple through time, affecting how they love, trust, and hope. How does one rebuild a life when every anchor—home, education, healthcare, community—is gone? These survivors will not only carry the weight of their own pain but also the responsibility of ensuring the world remembers what happened, even as they grapple with the burden of trying to live again.

Now, let's address the elephant in the room: Who will deliver justice to the people who have suffered for fifteen long months? To the point where doctors had to hold a press conference surrounded by dead bodies, something history will remember, if the West allows it? To the point where a father was forced to carry the remnants of his child’s body in a shopping bag, as that was all that remained? To the point where thousands of women had to delay their menstrual cycles due to displacement?

As part of Gen Z, this brings to mind a popular phrase, and there's this word we often use: 'Bare minimum.' By this term, we mean something that 'has' to be done, and we deserve it regardless of what's happening. It's something we're supposed to get without having to work for it.

The ceasefire, if I explain it in Gen Z terms, is the 'bare minimum.’

Israeli forces have killed at least 82 people in Gaza, including 30 in Gaza City, following the announcement of a ceasefire agreement between Hamas and Israel, according to medical sources reported by Al Jazeera.

This leaves us with a question: what is with Israel's bloodthirst? Even after, on one random Wednesday, the world finally decided they had had enough of Palestinian blood, why do they keep killing people in the name of war? And why is no one batting an eye?

Let’s not forget that October 7, 2023, was not the first time Israel bombed Palestine. It wasn’t all daisies and sunshine before that. People were dying, losing their sanity to violence, and suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Moreover, this genocide has irreversibly traumatized an entire generation, and it’s likely that mental illness patterns will emerge in future generations.

As I write these lines, Benjamin Netanyahu has delayed the cabinet vote on the ceasefire and intensified attacks on Palestine, dampening the premature celebrations of those who have lost everything to this war. Yet, do we see its implementation? Not yet.