AYESHA RASCOE, HOST:
Thousands of children are believed to have been orphaned in Israel's ongoing offensive in Gaza, some of them too young to know who they are and who they've lost. NPR producer Abu Bakr Bashir brings us this report about a baby girl who was discovered alone and the new home she's been given.
(SOUNDBITE OF BABY COOING)
ABU BAKR BASHIR, BYLINE: This baby girl was found in a tree. That is what Dr. Nasser Bolbol was told. He directs the premature babies department at Shifa Hospital in Gaza City.
NASSER BOLBOL: (Through interpreter) She was handed to me in person. I was told she was the only survivor of a massacre.
BASHIR: He was told paramedics found her in the Sabra neighborhood of Gaza City after Israeli strikes killed dozens of Palestinians there. The baby was only days old. Dr. Bolbol says the stump of her umbilical cord was still soft. He put her in an incubator and registered her in the hospital's newborns registry.
BOLBOL: (Through interpreter) I myself wrote the word unknown on her file.
BASHIR: Unknown - nobody knew if her family survived, and no one knew her name. This all happened at some point a few weeks into the war, but the doctor was not sure of the exact date because Israeli soldiers invaded his hospital a few weeks later. The military says it was pursuing Hamas operatives. Her records were lost.
BOLBOL: (Through interpreter) Her file is gone. It's gone.
BASHIR: This baby and 30 other premature infants were in the hospital when Israeli soldiers raided it. The babies were evacuated in an international operation and brought to the Emirati Helal Hospital (ph) in southern Gaza with only a list of their mothers' names, something the unknown baby girl did not have.
AMAL ABU KHATLEH: (Through interpreter) Her file only read, a survivor from a massacre in Al-Sabra neighborhood.
BASHIR: This is Amal Abu Khatleh, a 33-year-old nurse who was working in the hospital when the babies were brought there. Abu Khatleh said she couldn't tolerate the term unknown for a baby girl. She gave her a real name, Malak. In Arabic, it means angel.
ABU KHATLEH: (Through interpreter) I have fallen in love with her. I have no explanation or a specific reason for that.
BASHIR: After two months of Malak sharing the same incubator with other babies, the nurse was worried she would be exposed to infections. She asked the hospital to allow her to take Malak home with her. After weeks of discussions, the hospital agreed on the condition that she bring her back when the war is over.
(SOUNDBITE OF BABY COOING)
ABU KHATLEH: Da-da.
BASHIR: Abu Khatleh is single, with no children of her own. She and little Malak have developed a kind of mother-baby relationship.
ABU KHATLEH: (Through interpreter) I spend all my time with Malak, feeding her and playing together. When I'm at work, she stays with my sister, but I keep calling on her all the time. When I'm back, that is a party time for her. She gives me a hug and many kisses. She even looks like me now.
BASHIR: The nurse decided to give Malak a date of birth. She picked October 23, 2023. She says that, given her experience with premature babies and their development, Malak was likely born around that date, and the double 23 sounded special enough.
ABU KHATLEH: (Non-English language spoken).
(SOUNDBITE OF BABY COOING)
BASHIR: The nurse opened an Instagram account, posting videos of the baby and desperately searching for any living relatives. All the comments there are of support and blessings, but no leads. I reached the head of the Gaza Health Ministry's data entry department, Zaher Al Wahaidi, who is sheltering in a tent. He told me there are no surviving records of new births from the first days of the war and that, anyway, there is little chance baby Malak's parents had registered her birth during intense Israeli air strikes in northern Gaza at the beginning of the war. In May, Israel launched an incursion into the southern city of Rafah, and the nurse escaped with the baby.
ABU KHATLEH: (Through interpreter) Suddenly, there were tanks and shells. It was very difficult. I was extremely afraid with every single step. I walked around one hour from Rafah to Khan Younis. I was carrying Malak all the way. I took her toys, clothes, diapers and milk. I had to choose between my things and hers. I took hers.
BASHIR: Today, Abu Khatleh and baby Malak are in central Gaza, sharing a two-bedroom apartment with nine other children and two adults, and she's preparing for the possibility that she may never find Malak's real parents.
ABU KHATLEH: (Through interpreter) If that happens, I will keep her.
(SOUNDBITE OF BABY CRYING)
BASHIR: As the war goes on, Abu Khatleh keeps posting videos of baby Malak. In one, the baby sleeps in a yellow dress while her foster mother fans her with a plastic dish to keep her cool because there is no air conditioning or electricity. Malak's diary of growing up, wearing different outfits - it's all there on Instagram.
ABU KHATLEH: I want to help her have some nice memories that will stay with her when she's grown up. These memories could help her deal with the shock of the truth she will find out someday.
BASHIR: Baby Malak has given this nurse something in return. She told me, when I am with her, I forget about the war.
For NPR News, I am Abu Bakr Bashir.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC) Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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