{"id":3748,"date":"2025-07-17T22:29:07","date_gmt":"2025-07-17T22:29:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gunowner-news.com\/?p=3748"},"modified":"2025-07-17T22:29:07","modified_gmt":"2025-07-17T22:29:07","slug":"inside-the-al-baqa-cafe-bombing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gunowner-news.com\/?p=3748","title":{"rendered":"Inside the Al-Baqa Cafe Bombing"},"content":{"rendered":"


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On the evening<\/span> of June 30, an Israeli warplane dropped a 500-pound, U.S.-made MK-82 bomb<\/a> on the seaside Al-Baqa Cafe in Gaza City. The explosion killed more than 30 people and injured dozens more.<\/p>\n

The weapon\u2019s wide blast radius in the dense neighborhood caused indiscriminate damage, affecting unprotected civilians including men, women, children, and the elderly. Legal experts have said the attack likely violated international law under the Geneva Conventions and may constitute a war crime.<\/p>\n

As the war grinds on, cafes like Al-Baqa aren\u2019t just social spaces;\u00a0for many, they are the only places to access electricity and the internet, which are often unavailable in people\u2019s homes due to the ongoing blockade and widespread destruction of civilian infrastructure.\u00a0<\/p>\n

The people killed were students, workers, journalists, and displaced civilians, all clinging to a sense of normalcy, waiting for news of a possible ceasefire. Each had a name, a story, a struggle for survival in the face of a war that spares no one.<\/p>\n

For the dead, the ceasefire will never come. Here are some of their stories.<\/p>\n

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\u201cPlease Be Okay. Don\u2019t Leave Me.\u201d<\/h2>\n
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\n Ola Abed Rabbu and Naseem Sabha.<\/span>Photo: Courtsey Ola Abed Rabbu<\/span> <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Ola Abed Rabbu, a 23-year-old engineer, had recently gotten engaged to Naseem Sabha, 28 \u2014 a man who, in her words, \u201cchose to accompany me through the war, to ease my pain and bring light into my darkness.\u201d<\/p>\n

That evening, like always on their weekly excursions together, Naseem sat beside her, radiant with joy. \u201cHe was like a child reunited with Eid after a long absence,\u201d Ola recalled. He took photos of them together, his heart brimming with happiness as he whispered to her how beautiful she was \u2014\u00a0and how beautiful they were. \u201cHe never saw anything in this world more worthy of celebration than us.\u201d<\/p>\n

They ordered coffee and falafel sandwiches, laughing between sips and bites, she said. The cafe buzzed with activity \u2014\u00a0people reading, charging phones, attending online classes, catching a flicker of normalcy. Time passed quickly, as it always did during rare peaceful moments in Gaza. But even their long list of postponed conversations would have needed \u201ctwo lifetimes\u201d to complete.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe held my hand tightly on the way, like it was his last homeland,\u201d Ola said. \u201cAnd whenever we had to speak of death, he would always tell me calmly: \u2018Don\u2019t be afraid. Don\u2019t be sad. As long as we are together, if we go \u2026 we go together.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

But there was no warning. No siren. Only a sudden explosion. The cafe turned into rubble and dust. Screams faded into silence \u2014\u00a0broken only by Naseem\u2019s pained whisper: <\/p>\n

\u201cAh \u2026 ah \u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

They collapsed.<\/p>\n

Ola\u2019s leg was torn and bleeding. She wrapped it with a cloth from the table and crawled toward Naseem. \u201cPlease be okay. Don\u2019t leave me. Stay alive,\u201d she begged him. Blood poured from his back, but she clung to the hope that he had only lost consciousness.<\/p>\n

He was rushed to the ambulance first. Ola, despite her injuries, followed in the next. She arrived at the hospital unable to walk, her foot ligaments severed. \u201cThey told me he had a metal rod placed in his leg, then moved him to another ward,\u201d she recounted.<\/p>\n

As her treatment began, Ola asked her father in desperation, \u201cIs Naseem okay? Please, tell me he\u2019s alright.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice trembled: \u201cI don\u2019t know. He\u2019s in the ICU. \u2026 We\u2019re not allowed to see him.\u201d<\/p>\n

The silence around her grew heavier. Hours passed. Eventually, her cousin arrived and placed a hand on her shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cHas he been martyred?\u201d Ola asked.<\/p>\n

Tears filled her cousin\u2019s eyes as she nodded. \u201cYes \u2026 we brought him to you \u2026 to say goodbye.\u201d<\/p>\n

She saw his body, peaceful and luminous \u2014\u00a0\u201cmore beautiful than the full moon,\u201d she whispered. \u201cHis face was calm, as if he hadn\u2019t felt any pain, his spirit still hovering near him.\u201d<\/p>\n

With quiet faith, Ola bid him farewell:<\/p>\n

\u201cO Allah, reward me in this great loss, and grant me better than him. I testify that he was worthy of martyrdom. I have never known a heart more tender, a soul more pure, or a love more merciful and kind. I entrust him to You, my Lord \u2026 until I meet him again.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

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