Mustafa and Nesma al-Borsh’s wedding party was, understandably, a modest affair, considering the conditions in the Gaza Strip.

Nesma went to a beauty salon, rented a white dress, and took some photos with her groom, Mustafa. The ceremony and party were held in a tent in eastern Gaza City’s neighbourhood of Tuffah, with only 40 people in attendance.

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“I won’t say it was the wedding day I had always dreamed of, but given the harsh conditions we are living under, we tried to steal a few happy moments, and we did,” Nesma said.

Those happy moments were stolen from Mustafa and Nesma.

As last Friday’s celebration wrapped up, Israeli shelling hit a building next to the tent.

The targeted site was a vocational training facility run by Gaza’s Ministry of Education, but had been converted into a shelter during the war. The couple had been planning to live there after the wedding.

Flames rose from the site; dust, smoke, and screams filled the area.

The newlyweds stood in shock, unable to comprehend what was unfolding around them, as their wedding day turned into a tragedy.

From groom to rescuer

“I immediately grabbed my bride’s hand and sent her with my female relatives who had just left. Then I took off my wedding suit jacket and rushed with the other men to rescue those inside the building,” Mustafa, 29, told Al Jazeera from Halawa, a displacement camp in Gaza City near Tuffah.

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The shelling directly hit the second floor of the school, where Mustafa’s family were staying with others. It also hit the classroom that had been prepared for the couple to live in. Everything they had arranged for their wedding was burned.

“I helped retrieve bodies and rescue the wounded, and I pulled out my nephew, who was critically injured all over his body,” Mustafa said.

Ambulances were called, but emergency crews required Israeli coordination to enter the area.

“We waited more than two hours for the ambulances to arrive, but they were not allowed to enter from the Israeli side,” he added. “The situation was indescribably terrifying. We could hear strikes and shelling around us.”

After more than two hours, ambulances were eventually allowed in to evacuate the wounded and the dead.

After civil defence teams evacuated everyone from the building, instructing them to move to a safer location, they retrieved the victims.

Families were displaced, again, to shelters for internally displaced people inside the city, leaving behind all their belongings.

“Since that day, I’m still wearing my wedding suit,” the groom told Al Jazeera, pointing to his white shirt and trousers.

“There is a bloodstain belonging to my eight-year-old nephew, Mohammad, who died two days later from his injuries,” Mustafa said.

Repeated delays

Mustafa got engaged to the now 22-year-old Nesma several months before Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza began in October 2023.

Their wedding had been scheduled for that month.

“My apartment was fully ready: the bedroom, sofa set, kitchen. My fiancée and I put great effort into choosing every piece,” Mustafa said, showing a photo of the apartment that had been part of his family’s home in Jabalia, northern Gaza. It was later destroyed.

The couple had endured bombardment, hunger, and repeated displacement with their families, making the idea of a wedding seem impossible.

“Our families occasionally pressured us to go ahead with the wedding since the war was dragging on, but we both refused,” Nesma said, with Mustafa nodding in agreement. “We kept asking ourselves how we could celebrate or hold a wedding amid war and displacement.”

What further distanced the idea of marriage was Mustafa’s grief after losing two of his older brothers during the war, one in December 2023, when their home in Jabalia was bombed, and another in March 2025, during the second half of the war.

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“Losing my brothers cast an overwhelming shadow of grief over us, especially my mother, who cannot stop crying whenever she remembers them,” Mustafa said, glancing at his mother as she listened to the conversation.

After a ceasefire began on January 19, 2025, the couple decided to proceed with the wedding, believing the war had ended. But it quickly resumed.

“At that time, my uncle’s house in Jabalia was still standing, so we decided to take an apartment there and started preparing it. My bride began preparing herself and her clothes.”

“But we were shocked when the war broke out again in mid-March 2025,” Mustafa said.

With the return of the war, both were forced to flee with their families from northern Gaza to the west of Gaza City, where they lived in tents under harsh conditions until a second ceasefire came into effect on October 10, 2025.

Refuge

After the October ceasefire was announced, Mustafa and his family moved to a shelter in the Tuffah neighbourhood, about half a kilometre (0.3 miles) from the so-called “yellow line”, beyond which Israel retains control in Gaza.

“We wanted to escape life in the tents during the winter, so we decided to move into the school despite our concerns about its proximity to the yellow line,” he said.

Following family discussions, both families agreed to hold the wedding on December 19, with a modest celebration in a tent adjacent to the shelter.

“Once the date was set, I prepared what I could. Other displaced families in the shelter helped me, and they provided a classroom for us. Everything seemed to be going well,” Mustafa said.

Mustafa said he never expected the shelter to be attacked, as it was housing a large number of displaced families, the surrounding neighbourhood was densely populated, and the area lay outside the yellow line.

The educational centre was located in an area from which Israeli forces had withdrawn, in line with the ceasefire agreement.

Despite the truce, hundreds of Israeli violations have been recorded, with more than 400 Palestinians killed in repeated attacks over recent months.

Eight people were killed in the shelling of the building next to the wedding tent, all neighbours and relatives of Mustafa’s family, who had been sheltering on the second floor, he said.

Displaced again

“Among those killed were a mother, her husband, and their child, as well as my young nephew, who had been dancing with joy just moments earlier,” Mustafa said.

“What justification is there for targeting these people? And what crime did I commit for my bride and me to have our joy stolen on our wedding day?”

The couple is now, once again, living separately with their families due to the renewed displacement and the lack of a place to live together.

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“Every time, I have to start from zero again. Is there suffering greater than this?” Mustafa added in despair.

“I am displaced, my bride is displaced, our families are displaced, living in tents with relatives.”

“We insisted on holding our wedding during the war, but the war returned in the blink of an eye on the very day of our wedding,” Nesma said, her eyes heavy with grief.

“My joy is shattered. I have no desire for life. Everything feels dark here, and there is no space for happiness, not even one step.”