Journalist Saleh Al-Jaafrawi was killed on Sunday by gunfire from armed men in the southern part of Gaza City. Yet his voice still echoes in the memory of his followers—shocked by the tragic news—and in the hearts of his friends, who bid him farewell with the longing of those who hope to meet again.

The son of steadfast Gaza was always present in the field—amid rubble and under fire—telling the story of truth and suffering, documenting scenes of bloodshed and the tragedy of a resilient people. Saleh chased the light in the darkest days, capturing pain as though healing it through his lens, planting in every frame a fragment of his deep humanity.

Steadfast and Proud From the very first moment of the assault, he was on the ground—never hiding, never retreating. He brought to the world the cries of children and the tears of mothers, documenting destruction yet never failing to reveal the beauty of steadfastness and the pride of resistance that stands tall like the eternal mountains of the homeland.

Before he departed, Saleh captured his final image of Gaza—smiling after the announcement of the ceasefire. It was a small joy, yet pure and bright, as if he wished to say: “Even under siege, life still has a face worth seeing.” With laughter and praise on his lips, his final message to the world was clear: as long as hearts beat, the spirit of resistance lives on.

A Reunion Beyond Words The martyrdom of Saleh Al-Jaafrawi feels like a story too profound to tell—a story of struggle and truth. He departed this world to meet his friend, the late journalist Anas Al-Sharif, in a reunion more beautiful than words can describe.

Saleh was close to everyone—known by the young and the old alike. He made us weep as he conveyed Gaza’s pain, and rejoice when he brought us moments of hope as life returned to the city’s streets. He wept like a child before scenes of unbearable suffering, and smiled like a father at the sound of a survivor’s laughter from beneath the rubble.

Saleh was not just a journalist; he was the visual conscience of Gaza, its sleepless eye, its voice that continues even after his heart has stopped. His body is gone, but his images remain—testimonies of a man who carried his camera like a fighter bears his weapon, building with it a bridge between pain and hope.