Hundreds of thousands in Gaza shed tears of joy, hope, and grief on Wednesday last week after US and Qatari mediators announced a final ceasefire between Hamas and Israel. The ceasefire took effect on Sunday after 15 months of devastating war, killing at least 46,899 and injuring 110,725 Palestinian people according to Gaza’s health ministry.

Across displacement shelters, Palestinians celebrated with clapping, whistling, and bittersweet relief at the thought of returning home and an end to the relentless bombardments.

But their joy was short-lived. Just hours after the announcement, Israeli forces launched intensified attacks, killing at least 71 people and injuring over 200 in multiple airstrikes.

“My children started jumping for joy, and we hugged each other. It was the best moment since the war began,” said Diana Hosni, a mother of four who fled northern Gaza three months ago and now resides with 43 others in a relative’s home in Al-Zaytoon, eastern Gaza City.

Hosni, whose home was destroyed in an earlier bombing, has lost 15 relatives and friends during the war. “Israel killed, displaced, and humiliated us for over a year. It’s enough!” she said.

Like many Gazans, Hosni had pinned her hopes on the ceasefire as a lifeline. But airstrikes and the nightmarish hum of drones returned on Wednesday night, shattering her family’s fleeting celebration.

“My children couldn’t sleep all night. Our tears of joy turned to terror and grief in the blink of an eye,” she said. “It’s as if Israel won’t stop until it kills the last of us.”

Since the beginning of the war on 7 October 2023, Israel has systematically killed over 17,000 children in the Gaza Strip, Mahmoud Basel, the Gaza Civil Defence spokesperson said.

Hosni, like many other people in Gaza, remained cautious throughout Sunday. She was afraid of losing any of her loved ones, as dozens of people were being killed while they desperately waited for the ceasefire to go into effect at 11:15am local time. She and her family try to stay home because she thinks that is the safest place for Israeli airstrikes.

The 72-hour gap between the ceasefire announcement and its activation was marked by a surge in attacks, intensifying the anxiety of already-traumatised families like Hosni’s. Many people described it as more stressful and exhausting than the entire time of war.

For the many displaced Palestinians, returning home has been a distant dream. It may soon come true.

Asma Ajouri, 38, fled Jabalia for Khan Younis in southern Gaza on 16 October 2023, after Israeli forces claimed the south was safe.

A few months before the start of the war last year Ajouri had bought her house after living in her husband’s family small apartment with her family of six. She and her husband had a loan in addition to their savings to buy it. She learned recently, from her brother who remains in northern Gaza, that the house was bombed among other homes in their neighborhood during the previous three months’ assault on that area.

“It wasn’t just a house; it was ten years of tireless work. Every detail meant so much to me,” Ajouri said. Despite the destruction, she is determined to rebuild. “When we return to the north, we’ll set up a tent over its rubble if we have to.”

Ajouri has been working in psychological support in various local and international NGOs like the Red Crescent. She is currently supporting children in makeshift tent camps where she resides, especially those who have lost members of their families.

“Being a psychologist in a place like Gaza is overwhelming, due to the pressures of working with children who are suffering so much due to the ongoing, harsh situation,” she said. “But I am eager to continue my work after the ceasefire and help children cope with their trauma.”

Diana Al-Gholul, 18, resides in her family’s partially destroyed house in Sheikh Ridwan, northern Gaza City. She prays that this ceasefire will hold, unlike the truce in November 2023, which was followed by renewed fighting.

Since the ceasefire announcement, Al-Gholul has been grappling with deep emotions but is grateful that her family has survived the genocide so far. Her parents divided up their ten children, with some remaining in their house in northern Gaza and others evacuating to the southern part of the strip. Five of her siblings now live in a makeshift tent in Deir Al-Balah, central Gaza.

When she heard the news of the approaching ceasefire, Al-Gholul felt excited and overwhelmed, knowing she might soon be reunited with her two displaced brothers and three sisters.

“We are a close-knit family. I was so accustomed to being with my sisters that it’s indescribable how I felt thinking I might see them again. But I became terrified when the bombing resumed,” she said.

“Two Israeli airstrikes hit square residential buildings just 50 meters from our house, killing 35 of my neighbours. It felt like the war had started all over again.”

Al-Gholul, an excellent student, was supposed to start her secondary school last year. She had planned to study medicine abroad to help people in Gaza. Despite the suffering caused by 15 months of the genocidal war, she still dreams of resuming her education and going to college.

“Now, I can start thinking about the future and how I can help my people. During the genocide, we could only think about surviving another day,” she said. “People in Gaza deserve a chance to live normal lives.”

Before the ceasefire, people in Gaza counted down the minutes and prepared for the following day that might contain the fragile hope of safety and the privilege of being alive – even though they carry scars that can never heal.

Mostafa Mosleh, 58, displaced from Beit Lahia in the northern Gaza Strip, stood by his tent on the sidewalk of Al-Wihda Street in Gaza City, carefully dismantling it and packing what little he had left – clothes and some canned food. “I will be the first to return to the northern strip tomorrow, Sunday, at 8:30,” he said.

Mosleh wants to bury the bodies of his four children, who were killed three months ago in Beit Lahia while they were fetching water from a nearby neighborhood.

“When they were killed, I buried them quickly in my house courtyard because Israeli drones were killing randomly in the streets,” he said. “As a father, I cannot rest until I move their bodies to a proper grave or cemetery.”

He knows that nothing will return his children, but at least the ceasefire will stop the bloody loss of loved ones and the displacement. He and his 15 family members, including grandchildren, endure dire conditions – lacking warm clothes, medicine, food, and clean water.

Two weeks ago, heavy rain and strong winds tore through their makeshift tent. “I covered the bodies of my young grandchildren with my own to keep them warm,” he said. “Living in a tent is like being naked in the street – an experience that leaves you with nothing but a profound loss of dignity. Some days, I wish I could die before enduring this humiliation.”

Mostafa wishes the ceasefire had come months ago, saving thousands of lives. “Innocent people always pay the highest price in war,” he said. “I hope no one on Earth ever experiences what we have endured for the past 15 months in Gaza.

“Even with the ceasefire, the pain doesn’t end,” Mosleh said.

“A ceasefire may stop the bombs, but it can’t heal the wounds we’ve carried for over a year. I just hope, for the sake of the children, that this peace lasts. They deserve to grow up without knowing the terror we’ve lived through.”