He Spoke To NDTV On Surviving 2023 Airstrike. Now, Killed In Gaza Cafe Blast

The Al-Baqa cafe, a sea-facing joint in western Gaza, is a refuge for media personnel in the besieged Palestinian enclave. Every day, journalists, photographers, and freelancers frequent the cafe to use the internet and send reports to their companies around the globe. On Monday, an airstrike on Al-Baqa massacred at least 24 people, including prominent war reporter and filmmaker Ismail Abu Hatab. 

Mr Hatab, a 32-year-old Palestinian photojournalist, whose photographs of life under siege in Gaza were recently exhibited in the United States, had previously survived a near-fatal airstrike in 2023 and spoke openly about the psychological trauma he endured in the months that followed. 

A Voice For Gaza

Mr Hatab's work as a journalist and photographer gained international attention for its depiction of civilian life in Gaza during wartime. In April, his photography was exhibited in Los Angeles, in an immersive show titled "Between the Sky and the Sea". The exhibition invited viewers to witness, through Mr Hatab's lens, "the stark beauty and haunting resilience of life on Gaza's shores."

Just a year earlier, Mr Hatab, speaking to NDTV, detailed his experience of surviving an Israeli airstrike in November 2023 and the lingering effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, injury, and depression.

"It felt like the world was ending," Mr Hatab told NDTV, recalling the morning of October 7, 2023, when the Palestinian group Hamas launched an attack on Israel, triggering a full-scale Israeli military response. Like many in Gaza, Mr Hatab did not expect the scale of retaliation that would follow. The streets soon filled with dust, smoke, and the cries of survivors. Mr Hatab rushed to document the unfolding chaos.

"I charged my camera, emptied my memory disks, and went out to capture what I feared might be the last moments of our city standing," he said.

Gaza Journalists' Struggles 

During the first weeks of Israel's retaliatory bombardment, Mr Hatab worked with a small group of local and international journalists out of Gaza's tallest structure, the Al-Ghafari tower. There was no power. Internet access came through SIM cards. Journalists often had to climb 16 flights of stairs daily. For freelancers like Mr Hatab, the challenges were compounded by the absence of institutional support: no press vest, no protective vehicle, no life insurance.

Mr Hatab survived the Al-Ghafari tower airstrike in 2023.

He described nights sleeping in the streets or in cars when it became too dangerous to return home. "International journalists had options. We had none. We just tried to stay alive," he said.

Buried Under Rubble

On November 2, 2023, an Israeli strike on the Al-Ghafari tower nearly killed him. That morning, Mr Hatab had brewed coffee and sat down to edit footage. Minutes later, a missile struck the building. "Suddenly, everything went black. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear. A wall had collapsed on me," he said. 

Colleagues pulled him from the rubble. His left leg was severely wounded. There were no ambulances. He was carried, bleeding and unconscious, to Al-Shifa Hospital, Gaza's largest. With every ward overflowing, he was placed in a tent for journalists and later moved to another hospital under siege.

For weeks, he was on the move, from Al-Shifa to the Palestine Red Crescent Hospital in Tel Al-Hawa, then to Al-Amal Hospital in Khan Younis, and finally to Rafah and Deir al-Balah. He underwent multiple surgeries. One was botched. He remained unemployed and unable to walk for nearly a year.

Psychological Scars

The airstrike that wounded Mr Hatab left physical scars, but the emotional wounds were deeper. Speaking with NDTV, he shared candidly about the mental toll of war journalism. "I face sleep issues, memory problems, and depression," he said. "The sound of bombs, the screams of survivors, they never leave you."

He described witnessing a child injured in an airstrike on the Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital. In another incident, he helped rescue a man from rubble.

"I have seen so much death. The mass graves and the final farewells - these things affect me deeply. How can one group of people decide the fate of another and kill them in this way?" he asked. 

"I suffer from significant effects due to the experiences I've been through. I face difficulties with sleep, memory issues, and depression. The sounds of explosions and the cries of the families of martyrs echo in my mind."

Documenting War

Before becoming a photojournalist, Mr Hatab worked with Pyalara, a Palestinian youth organisation that trains young people in storytelling and civic participation. He also co-founded Humans of Gaza, a local initiative inspired by the global storytelling project Humans of New York, with his friend Ahmad Aburraya.

"He was extremely talented, compassionate, and hardworking," Mr Aburraya told the NDTV. "We became instant friends while filming a video for Palestinian prisoners. We wanted to capture Gaza's voices, its dreams, its humour and resilience."

Mr Hatab also produced a music video for a local band composed of his friends.

"I have lost colleagues and friends in this war," Mr Hatab had said. "But I have chosen to remain here, refusing to leave Gaza, because this country needs me. How can I abandon it in its time of need?"

A Life Cut Short

The details of Mr Hatab's final moments are still emerging. What is known is that the seafront cafe he was in had become a makeshift workplace for journalists and freelancers seeking internet access. At the time of the strike, it was crowded with civilians, as most safe spaces in Gaza have long ceased to exist. The strike also injured journalist Bayan Abu Sultan, whose photo, emerging out of the rubble and bloodied, is now viral on social media. 

Israel's ongoing military campaign in Gaza, now entering its 21st month, has killed over 56,500 people, mostly civilians, according to the Gaza health ministry. The United Nations has described the territory's humanitarian situation as catastrophic. 

Despite diplomatic rumblings, the strikes have not ceased.