The medications he takes for his diabetes and high blood pressure ran out long ago. He told Susan that he felt hungry all the time. Last week, several nearby buildings were bombed, he wrote his wife in a text message. Dozens of people were killed.
On Wednesday, after more than two months of frantic efforts, Ramadan became one of the lucky ones to get permission to leave.
Others are not so fortunate. There are roughly 50 Americans, along with about 250 immediate family members and legal permanent residents, who are still trying to leave Gaza as Israel deepens its invasion of the territory after the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas. Nearly 20,000 people have been killed, according to the Gaza Health Ministry, and neighborhoods have been reduced to rubble.
Foreigners and their close relatives are among a small number of people who can leave the besieged enclave, but only if their names appear on a list of those authorized to exit through the Rafah border crossing with Egypt. So far, the State Department has assisted 1,300 Americans, legal permanent residents and family members to depart Gaza, a spokeswoman said on the condition of anonymity to discuss a sensitive security situation.
She stressed that the United States does not control the Rafah crossing and that there are daily negotiations around “process, procedure and security vetting.” Israel, Egypt and Hamas determine who is authorized to exit Gaza and enter Egypt, she said, and the United States is working with Egypt and Israel to secure safe passage for more Americans and their family members.
Americans trying to get their relatives on the list to leave describe an unpredictable and opaque process. Sometimes certain members of a family appear, but others don’t: children without their parents, a wife without her husband.
Meanwhile, as the situation on the ground deteriorates, some say that even if their relatives do appear on the list, there is no way for them to get to the Rafah crossing. They’re pleading with the U.S. government to evacuate their family members before it is too late.
Fadi Sckak, 25, lives in Sunnyvale, Calif., and is studying business administration. He and his two younger brothers were born in Texas. One of them, Ragi, 24, is serving in the U.S. Army and is stationed in South Korea. Since the war began, they have tried desperately to help their parents, who live in Gaza and are not U.S. citizens.
Last month, Sckak said, a projectile hit the home where his parents were staying. They crawled out of the rubble holding a white flag, he said. His father, Abedalla, a diabetic, was shot in the leg. A nearby medical facility could not treat him, and Sckak could not arrange an ambulance in time. His father died a few days later. His last words to his son were to beg for help.
Sckak’s mother, Zahra, is now sheltering in a four-story building in Gaza City, together with his uncle Farid Sukaik, who is a U.S. citizen, and about 100 other people. They are severely dehydrated and nearly out of food.
“The last few days have been a nightmare,” Zahra says in a recent recording, her voice weary. “Before my husband was killed, I had some hope that someone was going to come and help us. I don’t have that hope anymore.”
His mother and uncle have appeared on the list of those authorized to leave, but Sckak said they cannot step outside without fear of being shot, let alone travel 30 miles south to the border with Egypt. Previous assurances that certain roads were safe to travel at specific times proved false, he said.
Fadi barely sleeps. “I can’t bear to lose her, I just can’t,” he said. “I’m trying really hard to do everything in my power to bring her back. Why is this so hard? This is somebody who is innocent.”
Borak Alagha, 18, is a computer engineering student in Gaza who was born in Illinois. Both he and his older brother Hashem are U.S. citizens who live with their extended family in Khan Younis, a city in the south of the territory that the Israeli army began entering in recent weeks.
This month, the family fled their home due to heavy bombing and instructions from the Israeli army to evacuate, Alagha said.
They moved to an area west of the city, but that, too, came under bombardment. They are living with about two dozen other people in a small apartment, plus a tent for the men outside, all sharing one bathroom.
Borak is staying with his grandparents, parents, four siblings and his mentally disabled uncle. This month, the three youngest children in the family — who are 13, 11 and 8 — appeared on the list of those authorized to travel. None of the other family members have been permitted to leave, including the two Americans. Splitting up is unthinkable for Alagha’s family.
Alagha loves Gaza but says it has become a “place filled with death, destruction and horror.” He wants to return to the United States, where his family will be safe, his grandfather and uncle can receive medical attention, and he can continue his studies.
It is not uncommon to see families split apart on the list, with some names on it and some names left off, said Sammy Nabulsi, a lawyer in Boston who has been helping Americans and their relatives trapped in Gaza.
Given the severity of the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, the United States should adopt a broader definition of which relatives qualify for the list, Nabulsi said. For instance, siblings of U.S. citizens are only eligible if they are unmarried and under 21.
All Susan Abdesalam wants is for her husband, Ramadan, a retired civil engineer, to return home as quickly as possible. She cherishes the idea of returning to their daily routine: exercise at the YMCA, followed by coffee at Panera Bread.
Susan finally spoke to him Wednesday when he managed to get to Rafah. Even as he remained anguished about leaving his sisters behind, the prospect of reaching safety was overwhelming. He sounded utterly “relieved to get out of there,” she said.
John Hudson contributed to this report.
