Internet, phone outages have cut off Gazans from the outside world — and even their loved ones
Telecommunications have been sporadic as bombardment by Israeli forces intensified
When Dunia's great-aunt was killed in Gaza, it took her three days to find out.
It wasn't until locals from the north evacuated and came to find her family that they learned the news.
"They came to the area we're staying in, they looked for us and once they found us, they told my mom and my grandfather that his sister was killed," Dunia said. CBC News is not providing her full name because she fears for her safety during the Israel-Hamas war in Gaza.
Telecommunications in Gaza were cut off on Oct. 27 as the Israel Defence Forces announced it was expanding ground operations, which were launched soon after an Oct. 7 attack on southern Israel by Palestinian militant group Hamas.
Days later, many people were still disconnected, leaving 22-year-old Dunia and her family in isolation.
They're among thousands of Gazans who aren't able to hear about the deaths of family members until days later.
Struggle to stay connected
Dunia once lived in the heart of Gaza City. But shortly after Oct. 7, she and her parents fled to a nearby friend's house and then to a friend's chalet, where she currently resides with 50-plus people.
The architecture student spoke to CBC News using an eSim card — one tool helping thousands in the region stay connected despite the ongoing outages.
"It's an electronic SIM and we can connect with a QR," Dunia said. "I can go outside the house I'm staying in, look for a service point and get connected. Then I have the Wi-Fi."
But sometimes it fails to work. The eSIM might not be compatible with certain phones, and it can only be used if someone purchases it outside of Gaza.
"That's how we can stay connected with the outside world," Dunia said.
"We need someone to hear our voices. They did this ... to kill the voices of civilians who want to let the world hear that we are suffering here, that we are dying."
Airstrikes, lack of fuel are being blamed
During Hamas's attack on Israel more than eight weeks ago, about 1,200 people, including several Canadians, were killed and 240 were taken hostage, Israel says. In Gaza, which has been ruled by Hamas since 2007, Palestinian health authorities deemed reliable by the United Nations estimate that more than 15,900 people have been killed, and thousands more are feared buried under rubble as a result of Israel's response.
Israel's total siege on Gaza has resulted in food, water, electricity, medicine and fuel being cut off to the enclave. A limited number of aid trucks have been allowed to enter Gaza through the Rafah border crossing with Egypt since Oct. 21.
According to Human Rights Watch, Israeli airstrikes and the scarcity of fuel are main triggers of the telecommunications blackout.
Soon after war broke out in Gaza, Paltel, the region's primary telecommunications company, was unable to provide reliable services to residents due to damage or destruction to key infrastructure. On Oct. 29, two days after telecommunications were cut off as airstrikes intensified, Paltel said services were gradually being restored, but a week later, contact was lost again.
The ability to connect to devices is sporadic, depending on the area within Gaza. For example, Dunia said the internet often works for just a couple of minutes at a time. Others on X, the social media platform formerly known as Twitter, have reported complete blackouts.
But the current outage marks one example of communication challenges that residents of Gaza have experienced for decades.
A report by non-profit Access Now says the Israeli military has repeatedly caused internet disruptions since 2008.
During attacks since then — in 2011, 2014 and 2021 — Israel targeted "civilian internet infrastructure" and cut off electricity and fuel — leading to disruptions of internet access and shutdowns of telecommunications.
'I had multiple nightmares'
Nisreen Shehada, a 26-year-old dentist who resided in the north of Gaza, said she once hoped to apply for a master's degree and a variety of scholarships that open for registration in the fall.
After her workplace and her house were bombed, she eventually had to evacuate south with her husband's family. But her father insisted on staying put — refusing to leave his roots in the north.
"It was one of the hardest decisions I've had to make," Shehada said about leaving her parents and siblings in northern Gaza.
But even worse was the absence of online connectivity. For days, there was no way to know whether her family was alive.
"When I moved to the south, the connections went down multiple times — not just the internet but also the cellular connections. So I couldn't contact or reach them for days," she said.
"Even when I had the chance to sleep, I had multiple nightmares over and over again," Shehada said. "So my mental health went down. My health in general went down."
At one point, the only way to learn what was happening in her family's region, as well as her own, was to listen to the radio. "It was literally a torture to me," she said.
Radio service filling void
BBC World Service announced an emergency radio service for listeners in Gaza on Nov. 1. The service announces information on where to access necessities like food and water, as well as information on where to safely shelter.
Elsewhere, radio services are available through local stations, with Al Jazeera launching a new broadcast through local station 93.9 FM.
Reading and watching the news can be nearly impossible due to poor service. Shehada's husband, Liwaa Joudeh, said they receive much of it from WhatsApp groups that share news from in and out of Gaza.
Sometimes, he and his wife can connect to the internet by using Wi-Fi extenders on the streets. They are luckier than most, he said.
"Some of my friends are in the dark because they are in other places that are not privileged with this service," Joudeh, 29, said.
Others have become creative. One friend staying in Dunia's house receives news bulletins via a sister who lives in Saudi Arabia.
"In the morning when she receives the messages, she reads them to us, to hear the news," Dunia said.
Joudeh, an accounting lecturer at the now-bombed Al Azhar University-Gaza, said he can't even engage with the internet to take his mind off the war — let alone to try to reach loved ones.
"I cannot even disconnect ... to take off some of the pain we're facing," he told CBC News via WhatsApp and text messages when service was available.
Watching the war from Canada
At home, Canadians are feeling similar sentiments.
Oftentimes, the only way to know if a family member is dead or alive is with the ping of a Facebook message or a WhatsApp text.
Noor Youssef, who lives in Vancouver, said she communicates with a close cousin in Gaza over Instagram. She hears back about every 48 hours. But when she doesn't, she said, it's easy to fear the worst.
"I'll find myself sending multiple messages in a row, like, 'Please answer, are you OK? Just send me one message to say you're OK,'" she said.
When posting is possible, Youssef said, receiving information straight from the source has changed the way war zones are viewed on the internet.
"Getting to see those accounts from people who are there has been really valuable," she said.
Journalists and digital content creators in Gaza — including Plestia Alaqad, Motaz Azaiza and Bisan Owda — are immersed in the action, posting photos and videos direct from the war zone.
Once posting photos of everyday life to thousands of people, some now have millions of followers on Instagram since the events of Oct. 7.
After a truce that began on Nov. 24 between Israel and Hamas ended after a week, Israel intensified bombing in Gaza — including areas that it claimed were safe zones.
Owda and Azaiza have since taken to Instagram to say that documenting what is happening could falter, as they contemplate whether they will survive this more intense phase of the war.
In a recent post, Azaiza is shown bringing water to his grandparents before an airstrike hits just metres away from him. In it, he's seen tearing away as sirens blare in the distance and people escape the dust — pulling children from collapsed buildings.
Youssef said his work provides a vital representation of "what's actually happening there."
"Anybody who's got a smartphone can just take it out and start filming," she said, "and show evidence of what's going on."
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