Palestinian colleagues pay tribute to six journalists murdered by Israel
Palestinian colleagues pay tribute to six journalists murdered by Israel

On Sunday, Israel deliberately killed six Palestinian journalists who were in a media tent set up outside al-Shifa hospital in Gaza City.
Their names were Anas Al Sharif, Mohammed Qreiqeh, Ibrahim Zaher, Mohammed Noufal, Mosaab Al Sharif and Mohammed al-Khalidi.
Israel has killed 238 Palestinian journalists in Gaza since the beginning of the war, according to the Gaza government media office.
Sharif was a renowned Al Jazeera correspondent who had gained prominence for his brave reporting during the conflict.
Qreiqeh was a Middle East Eye contributor who had reported on Israeli atrocities and most recently was working for Al Jazeera.
Zaher, Noufal, Mosaab Al Sharif and Khalidi were cameramen and photojournalists.
Here, Palestinian journalists pay tribute to their murdered colleagues.
Maha Hussaini, MEE journalist
I worked with Mohammed Qreiqeh for many months during the early stages of Israel’s war on Gaza, and before he started with Al Jazeera. I was forcibly displaced in southern Gaza, while he remained in the north, refusing to evacuate or abandon his responsibilities there.
Through our collaboration, I documented numerous crimes in the north, which I published in reports for Middle East Eye. Mohammed would go into the field to gather testimonies and eyewitness accounts in places I couldn’t reach, due to the Israeli separation of the north from the south, and he even felt responsible for informing me about crimes that the media had not yet learned about. He felt it was his duty to expose what was happening.
Ahmed Hejazi, prominent Gaza journalist
When one of our friends or fellow journalists is martyred, the first things that come to mind are their honourable stances, their laughter, their dreams, their sincere moments and all that is beautiful about them.
I remember, two days before the war, Anas Al Sharif called me and said: “Listen, my wife and I are planning to go out for dinner. What restaurant do you recommend?” I laughed, because by coincidence, my wife and I were on our way to al-Bahar Restaurant. He smiled and said: “You got it.” That was the last dinner we had together on the Gaza shore.
We felt each other’s pain without words. When my brother Allam was released from Israeli prison, Anas was the first to come to share the good news with me. And when our home was bombed, he was among the first to call to check on me and let me hear his voice.
Muhammed Abudahrouj, photojournalist
I was with Mohammed Qreiqeh most of the time, and he would always say, “Do you think we’ll stay alive?” and constantly repeat, “I won’t last long.” Mohammed was deeply affected by his mother’s killing in an Israeli raid on al-Shifa hospital in April 2024. Every time we went out to cover something, he would say, “Do you think we’ll make it back?” and then laugh.
Anas always tried to help everyone. One time, he saw an elderly woman who was wounded and stayed with her all night. He would go to deliver his report to Al Jazeera and then come back to stand by her side. Anas would stand in front of the camera, and off air he would say, “By God, I’m hungry, I can’t stand.” He used to say, “Do you think the war will end while I’m still alive?” and his colleagues would reply, “You’re like a cat with nine lives.”
Rasha Farhat, Palestinian journalist currently outside Gaza
Yesterday felt like an open mourning day at home. Anas was present in our home. I remember Anas as very hardworking, and I felt that he changed the concept of the correspondent. He made the most important criteria for a successful reporter: to have courage, to fear nothing and to carry his soul on his palm.
I have known Mohammed Qreiqeh for a long time. He was calm, elegant and handsome. When he first appeared on Al Jazeera, I said it was a very successful choice because he had experience in television presenting.
I remember when his mother was martyred, how much pain he had and how deeply heartbroken he was over losing her. He would always say, “Oh blessing, oh mother,” and express how much he missed her. I always felt that Mohammed would not find peace until he reunited with his mother, and that’s exactly what happened.
Mustafa al-Banna, Palestinian journalist currently outside Gaza
I have known Mohammed Qreiqeh since 2014. He was a young man of good character, pleasant company, kind-hearted and humble. During this war, Mohammed emerged as one of the most prominent journalists who made it their noble mission to convey the truth and expose the Israeli genocide, fully aware that this path could very well end in death.
His strong and proficient Arabic language, expressions and terminology were his weapons in front of the camera, enabling him to provide a truthful depiction of the reality that the Israeli occupation desperately sought to prevent from being exposed or silenced.
Yahya al-Yaqobi, journalist posting on Facebook
Yesterday, I met Mohammed Qreiqeh at the mourning house of Palestinian footballer Suleiman al-Obeid, and we prepared a story about him. He welcomed me, as usual, with his familiar smile and kind words, then finished his report and ended it with a sentence that stuck in my mind: “Suleiman, or the Pelé of Palestine, who the crowds always carried victorious from matches, was carried as a martyr on their shoulders.” Then he left and I finished my report, and today I took part in carrying Mohammed’s body.
What a hard irony it is when the witness becomes a martyr, and the one who conveys the story becomes the news and the story, in a time when standards have been overturned and journalists who convey the news have become targets.
Rafif Aziz, journalist posting on Facebook post
The news of the martyrdom of Mohammed al-Khalidi shook me. My colleague from many years ago, a very innocent person in his heart and soul. Very ambitious and he sings to a different tune, exceptional in his ideas, innocence, and sweet spirit... like a child.
I used to see him and talk with him, and throughout the war I kept seeing him... and I used to tell him, "I feel like when I see you, I’m talking to a character from anime... like me, who doesn’t like politics and its complications and filth... He loves life and walks through it calmly and rationally."
I can’t believe it... my heart aches.