In the fragile calm following the October ceasefire, a silent humanitarian crisis is unfolding across Gaza as Israel’s unilaterally imposed ‘Yellow Line’ military boundary continues its relentless westward expansion. What began as a temporary demarcation line has transformed into a constantly shifting frontier that has already swallowed approximately 53% of the territory, forcing waves of undocumented displacement.
Palestinian journalist Ahmed Hamed, 31, returned to his home near Gaza City’s Shujaiya neighborhood after the ceasefire, initially believing his residence stood 1.5 kilometers from the boundary. Within two months, that distance has dramatically shrunk to merely 200 meters. ‘From the first day we came back, we heard bombardment, demolitions and gunfire,’ Hamed told Middle East Eye. ‘It would start at sunset and continue until dawn.’
The Yellow Line, marked by ominous yellow concrete blocks progressively placed inside civilian districts, functions as a no-go zone that prohibits Palestinian access to vast territories. Its steady advancement has created a nearly one-kilometer-wide swath of newly inaccessible land between its original position and current location, encompassing thousands of homes.
Families who returned to rebuild their lives after the ceasefire now face nocturnal displacements under fire. ‘People set up generator lines and even installed the internet,’ Hamed explained. ‘Then, one night, they woke to heavy gunfire and found a yellow concrete block in the middle of the street. They gathered their belongings and fled under fire in the middle of the night.’
The human cost has been severe. Hamed’s cousin’s wife, Samar Abu Waked, a mother of three in her 30s, was killed by a bullet to the head at the entrance of their family home, apparently fired by an Israeli soldier from the Yellow Zone.
Israeli Army Chief Lieutenant General Eyal Zamir recently referred to the boundary as a ‘new border,’ stating the military maintains ‘operational control over extensive parts of the Gaza Strip’ and will remain positioned along these defensive lines. This contradicts the US-backed ceasefire plan that envisioned the line as a temporary withdrawal point with further pullbacks expected.
Reem Mortaja, a 27-year-old Shujaiya resident displaced for the 11th time, describes the situation as deceptive: ‘The world thinks the ceasefire is in effect. But we are still living through phases of war, while the occupation goes uncondemned because it operates quietly and swiftly. Every day, there are advances, air strikes or artillery fire. The displacement never stops—and all of it happens in total silence.’
As Israeli forces use explosive-laden vehicles to demolish residential buildings in eastern Gaza, residents like Hamed describe the advancing line as ‘a fire burning through the neighborhood, and we’re waiting for the flames to reach us.’ With media attention largely absent, families continue to flee in silence, their suffering compounded by the international community’s apparent unawareness of their ongoing plight.