Rozan: From the Racetrack to One-Legged Champion

By Nelly Al-Masri

 

   “I cradled my severed leg, clutching it to my chest as I bled profusely from my injury inside the ambulance. I imagined it would be reattached—but I found myself rushing towards an unknown road, far removed from the days when the very ground of Gaza’s sports fields kept in time with my running strides.” 

This is the testimony of young runner Rozan Khaira, who is 24 years old from Gaza City, when she recounted the painful moment of her injury. The incident occurred when an Israeli aircraft struck her residential neighborhood in Tel al-Hawa, which is located in the western part of Gaza City. This took place during the genocide war the occupation forces committed after October 7, 2023.

 

   In the middle of the night of November 23, 2023, at 11:00 PM, Rozan fell asleep in utter bliss. In the days leading up to November 24, 2023, she had just heard the news about a ceasefire truce that would go into effect the next day. As she recalls, "The Israeli bombardment that night was intense. We had just finished spending the evening as a family together-my immediate family and our relatives who had sought refuge with us. It was a day of joy, because the bombing finally stopped the following day. It was at this very moment that my heart fluttered like a butterfly soaring with joy, as we got to bed. ‘The bombing will stop,’ I kept telling myself."

 

“I woke up suddenly to the sound of shelling, and debris flew all around me. I saw everyone running, and I wondered to myself: ‘Where am I?’ The first thing I thought was that this must have been the nightmare I was dreaming of; I couldn’t grasp what was going on at that moment. In an attempt to run, just like my family, I took one step only to collapse back on the ground. I hopped on one leg until I reached the living room, still completely unaware of the fact that I had been injured. My family stared at me in shock when I turned toward them, and that's when I found out that I had been injured."

 

She fell silent as tears streamed down her cheeks. She continued:

 

 “After our neighbors' home was hit by six missiles, my room was the only one damaged by shelling in the house. During the attack, I sustained a severe injury to the heel of my other foot, as well as seven other wounds around my body due to a shrapnel piece that struck me and instantly severed my leg.”

 

As a member of an athletic family, Rozan inherited her passion for sports from her relatives. Her uncle, Rizq Khayra, is one of the most prominent football players in Gaza Sports Club, while her sister plays soccer for both the Al-Mashtal and Palestinian clubs, and the brother is a boxer. As for Rozan herself, she is deeply passionate about sport and pursued it with her family's support. With her father personally overseeing her training alongside other female athletes at the local track and field competitions, she regularly competed in local track and field competitions. In the mornings, before she headed off to work in the media and marketing department, she would spend some time at the sports center.

 

“As soon as the shelling started, we fled the house immediately. All I was able to do was pray, as my leg was attached to nothing but a strip of skin. My father had to carry me down to the ground floor, to my grandfather's apartment, while everyone else looked on in disbelief. I was bleeding profusely from my leg at the time, and the hemorrhage lasted for over an hour. Ambulances were not available. All the major hospitals - Al-Shifa, Al-Quds, Al-Sadeeq, and Al-Ahli - were either under siege or had ceased operations completely, so they could not accept casualties."

 

   “Eventually, Civil Defense teams were called to the scene and began searching for the injured. There was a tragedy in that the very house that had been bombed served as an obstacle that prevented them from being able to access the area. In order to reach me, they had to navigate through other shelled buildings. After being transported to Al-Daraj Health Center, I found out that it was an entirely devoid of medical resources, lacking even the basic medical supplies like gauze. And there, something happened that I could never have imagined." 

She closed her eyes, as if trying to erase the events that happened from her life: “Overwhelmed with the pain, I recited the verses of the Quran that I had committed to memory. In order to distract me from the procedure he was about to perform, the doctor asked me to recite it aloud. Immediately after my leg was amputated without anesthesia, he placed it in a cardboard box beside me and placed the box beside me. Under those circumstances, only the injured patient is transported in an ambulance to the health center, so I was alone; no one accompanied me to the health center."

 

"In order to stop the bleeding, I was transferred to the Indonesian hospital in the northern Gaza Strip where I underwent surgery in order to stop the bleeding. At the time, this was the only functioning hospital left in Gaza. This was the first time I had ever laid eyes on an amputated limb. I was in a state of shock as I clutched my leg, holding it close to me in a state of shock."

 

“To gain access to the hospital, we had to obtain a permit from the occupation authority, which was facilitated by the Red Cross. When I got to the hospital at midnight, they laid me down on the floor. There were no doctors, nurses, or medical equipment of any kind present. As the bleeding continued until dawn, my hemoglobin level, which was 12.5, plummeted to 3.5 grams per deciliter from its previous level of 12.5. Actually, I was hoping surgery would stop the bleeding. I was informed by the doctor that no general anesthesia was available—only local anesthesia was available—and that the amputation site would have to be cleaned without any anesthetic whatsoever. Despite my reluctance, I consented. It was just moments later, however, that the occupation forces suddenly shelled the second floor of the hospital. Due to the sheer number of casualties caused by that bombardment, I had lost all hope of being able to undergo surgery. An operation was performed hours later. It was to our surprise that the occupation forces raided the hospital from the rear, making it imperative for us to evacuate as quickly as possible.”

 

“As they carried me out of the room, we were unable to locate a single car-not even a donkey's cart to help us get to our destination. Eventually, we found a shopping cart that belonged to a nearby supermarket; my father placed me in it, and we began our journey toward Gaza City. As a result, the situation was absolutely terrifying; quad copter drones swarmed the sky, and we lived in constant fear that the occupation forces would arrest or kill us at any moment. I was carried 12 kilometers on foot by my father until we finally reached my home. It felt as if we were being chased by the very horrors of Judgment Day.”

 

   When they returned home two weeks later, the house was bombed while they were inside. Despite the enormity of the situation, they miraculously survived and crawled out of the rubble. During the incident, Rozan sustained a severe back injury, and her father suffered critical injuries that ultimately led to the amputations of both his legs. Additionally, her brother sustained a severe fracture to his hand and back, requiring him to undergo surgery involving insertion of metal plates. Her sister also suffered a pelvic fracture, her niece was injured in the palm of her hand, and her mother was injured in the metatarsal bones of her foot. Her family was forced to flee to her aunt's home in the Al-Sahaba neighborhood, in the center of Gaza City, because all of them had been injured. Consequently, her sister was left to care for them, as everyone had been injured.

 

As a result of her injury, Rozan had to endure unimaginable hardships in the midst of repeated displacements. As she recounts: "Throughout the shelling, everyone scrambled to save themselves, while I waited for someone to rescue me. We were forced to flee abruptly, and I asked myself: 'Who would carry me?' It was incredibly hard."

"We were ordered to evacuate the area two weeks later, so we headed to the Al-Jalaa neighborhood in the centre of Gaza City where we currently reside. However, the occupation forces besieged the area again in January 2024 after the area was besieged once more. We were stranded for a week without food or water, observing absolute silence out of fear that the soldiers would attack us. I lost consciousness almost constantly, and I developed infections and fungal growths as a result of not having gauze available to cover my wounds."

She added: "When I reached out to the schools and clinics seeking medical attention, I was told that I would need to be taken to a hospital because the remaining portion of my leg had to be removed. Leaving the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood in eastern Gaza, we held up a white flag until we reached the neighborhood. It was a very long journey for me, as my leg bled profusely. I was not able to get food or medicines; neighbors sometimes offered me one antibiotic pill or one painkiller (Acamol).”

“My body would suffer sustained tremors along with episodes of loss of consciousness that sometimes last for long periods of time, which would delay wound dressings, even though the procedure was supposed to be performed inside the operating room.”

 

The painful saga of displacement continues for Rozan and her family. This time, they were forced to flee to the Jordanian Hospital in the Tal al-Hawa district, in western Gaza City. Their departure was akin to a smuggling operation due to the presence of occupation forces in the area.

As she continues, "My wounds did not heal for six months because my leg bandages remained unchanged for a week." As a result of the original surgery, a nurse discovered that gunpowder residue was left inside the wound after it had been closed. Since it had not been thoroughly cleaned before the incision was closed, the doctor had to remove the stitches and clean the wound a second time."

"We endured a grueling displacement journey, from one university campus to another, then to the Al-Daraj district, and finally back to Al-Jalaa where we stayed for the next four months," she continues. Our family spent one month displaced in Al-Zawaida, a central Gaza Strip area. When our homes were destroyed, we had to flee again, and this time we ended up staying at my sister's house."

Rozan refused to surrender to her injury, despite its severity. She is a vibrant, spirited individual determined to press forward with both her personal life and athletic career. She notes, however, that the prosthetic limb she currently uses is cumbersome—weighing approximately five kilograms—and ill-fitting, making it difficult for her to move around. This limb was amputated in several hospitals before being fitted with a prosthetic limb by the Red Cross. This was a process which eventually enabled her to stand again.

In her remarks regarding her athletic career prior to the genocide, she notes: "I used to compete in local cross-country races in Gaza. My injury did not end my dream; it only strengthened my commitment to it. Injury is not the end of life; we must continue to live. While I have lost some physical mobility, my mind remains fully present. I am still a creative individual, and I can still come up with creative ideas."

She continues: "My father and I aspire to establish a center dedicated to supporting amputees—one that would offer psychological counseling and physical therapy as well as specialized recreational activities for individuals with disabilities. It is our firm belief that we can give back to our community in the form of service."

Rozan highlights her passion for sports by noting: "I am eager to play the sport of amputee football. I have been referred to the program about a month ago. I am currently waiting for a prosthetic limb that will allow me to run. I am currently using a prosthetic limb that is uncomfortable. Therefore, I stay at home and only use it for limited movement."

And still they say: "This isn't genocide"!

Nelly Al-Masri is a Gaza-based journalist and writer.