The medical staff at Nasser Hospital in southern Gaza’s Khan Younis have issued a heartfelt letter to the world, expressing their unwavering commitment to remain with their patients even as relentless airstrikes rock the area. Operating under dire conditions, these healthcare workers are tending to waves of wounded and sick individuals — many of them women and children — despite the constant threat to their own lives.
In their moving message, the doctors painted a grim picture of life inside the hospital: power outages, dwindling supplies, overcrowded wards, and a lack of safety even within what should be a sanctuary of healing. Yet, even with the walls shaking from nearby explosions and lives hanging in the balance, they made clear that abandoning the sick was never an option.
“Tell the world about us,” the letter pleads. “Tell them that we chose death rather than abandon our noble mission.”
Their words reflect not only resilience, but also a profound understanding of humanity in the face of war. The letter speaks with humility, rejecting glorification or martyrdom, and instead offering a raw and deeply emotional glimpse into the human cost of conflict. “Don’t say we’re heroes,” it reads. “Just say that we understood what it means to be truly human, and forgive us. We are not numbers.”
Inside Nasser Hospital, the medical teams are reportedly working without rest, often relying on basic tools and outdated equipment to perform life-saving procedures. In many cases, they must make difficult decisions about who to treat first due to the overwhelming number of injured people. Burn victims, children with shrapnel wounds, elderly patients suffering from chronic conditions — all are relying on the compassion and courage of a few who refuse to leave them behind.
One medic described how they sleep in shifts under stairwells and operate in hallways, always alert for another round of shelling or a new wave of casualties. The hospital is not immune to the violence, with its grounds having been hit multiple times in recent months, further damaging its infrastructure and pushing it closer to collapse.
Yet, despite this, morale among staff remains centered on their duty. Some have not seen their own families in weeks, fearing that any attempt to leave could cost lives — theirs, or those of their patients. What drives them, they explain, is not politics or recognition, but an unshakable sense of purpose rooted in care, dignity, and the oath they swore when they became medical professionals.
Their letter stands as a powerful testament to the endurance of the human spirit in one of the most dangerous places on Earth. In it, they do not ask for praise, only understanding — that behind every headline and statistic are real people fighting not just for survival, but for meaning, empathy, and the simple act of doing what is right.
