On March 19, six-year-old Suhair Ahmed Sharaf was standing in the Al-Nuseirat Camp in central Gaza, watching her grandparents prepare to slaughter a sheep to share with neighbours, when an Israeli missile tore through the place.
Her grandfather and grandmother died instantly. Neighbours pulled her and her older brother from the rubble, rushing them to an ambulance. At the hospital, doctors found a piece of shrapnel lodged in her spine.
Waking up two days after surgery under anaesthesia, Suhair learned she would never be able to walk again.
“There are no words for the pain she’s living with,” her mother tells TRT World. “She asks me every day, ‘Mama, will I walk again?’ It breaks my heart.”
Her life is a constant struggle now. She requires help for eating, sleeping, or even sitting up.
In the last 21 months, Israel has killed over 57,000 people in Gaza, an area equal to the US city of Las Vegas but with more than three times the population.
UNICEF says between 3,000 and 4,000 kids have lost one or more limbs, making Gaza home to more child amputees per inhabitant than anywhere else in the world.
The UN says at least 14,500 children have lost lives to Israel’s indiscriminate shelling in one of the world’s most densely populated areas. The number of injured is in the vicinity of 110,000, including 25,000 children.
Suhair’s mother says her daughter dreams of playing and drawing again, but the availability of prosthetic limbs remains limited. Her family is in contact with the World Health Organization (WHO) for a prosthetic limb. But approvals for travelling outside of Gaza for medical procedures are hard to come by.
‘Will my hands grow back?’
Twelve-year-old Sarah Musab Al-Barsh faced a similar tragedy on October 23, 2024, in Jabalia Camp. She was riding her bicycle with her father to buy lunch when an Israeli missile hit the neighbourhood.
“I lost my father and my hands in the blink of an eye,” Sarah tells TRT World. Her uncle, who was close by at the time of the missile strike, provided first aid and called paramedics.
There was complete chaos in the hospital as the wounded packed its corridors. “Sarah asked me, ‘Mom, will my hands grow back?’” her mother says.
Sarah’s life is inexplicably difficult now. Worst of all, she misses drawing, something she would do with a passion before losing both her arms. “My whole life has changed,” she says.
Her mother is working with WHO for prosthetic limbs, but bureaucratic hurdles, such as travel permissions, restrict Sarah’s access to prosthetic limbs.
The story of 16-year-old Yousef Mohammed Hussein losing his leg in an Israeli strike is no different from others. On June 6, 2024, he was asleep with his family when a bomb hit their home at 4am in Al-Nuseirat Camp.
“I woke up hanging from a tree in front of our house,” he tells TRT World. “Then I fell onto a car. I couldn’t feel my body.” Neighbours ran to save survivors, rushing Yousef to an ambulance.
He woke up days later to find out that his parents and two siblings were dead, and his leg was amputated.
“The first thing I thought was that I’d never play football again,” he says. “Every time I see my wounds, the moment of the injury comes back.”
Yousef hasn’t lost hope though. He looks forward to having a prosthetic limb one day to bring back some normalcy to his life.
A ray of hope
Eight-year-old Sidra Al Bordeeni lost her arm to a piece of shrapnel while playing with her sisters at Nuseirat School, a makeshift refugee shelter in Gaza.
Her mother, Sabreen Al Bordeeni, tells TRT World losing the arm meant Sidra couldn’t ride bikes or draw anymore. “Those were her favourite things.”
But Sidra’s life took a positive turn when Bioniks, a Pakistan-based prosthetics company, stepped in.
Founded by Anas Niaz, a mechatronics engineer, Bioniks makes prosthetics with AI at a substantially lower cost than most conventional companies.
“Eighty percent of people worldwide don’t have access to prosthetic limbs, especially functional ones,” Niaz tells TRT World.
A ‘functional’ prosthetic limb mimics the functionality and appearance of a real arm as opposed to a ‘cosmetic’ one that only replaces the missing body part.
While conventional prosthetic procedures require costly travel to specialised clinics, a near-impossibility for Gaza’s children, Bioniks eliminates this barrier, Niaz says.
For Sidra, staff at Mafaz Clinic in Amman used a 3D scanning app to measure her residual limb. Bioniks manufactured a custom prosthetic arm in Pakistan and delivered it to Jordan.
“It took just five to 10 minutes, and she was using her arm right away,” he describes the moment she shook her mother’s hand and held a bottle as “priceless.”
A Bioniks-made arm costs roughly $2,500, a fraction of the $10,000-$20,000 price tag for a made-in-America prosthetic limb.
“We’re a social enterprise. Sixty percent of people with disabilities live in underdeveloped regions. That’s our focus,” he says.
Bioniks arms are sweatproof, durable, and equipped with sensors calibrated via a mobile app, reducing the need for clinic visits, he adds.
Unlike traditional manufacturers, who produce 30 to 40 limbs a month, Bioniks can produce 500. Their solar-powered, container-based factory can be deployed anywhere, even in conflict zones.
“We want a lab in Gaza or Jordan,” Niaz says. “Children shouldn’t have to leave their families for treatment.”
