Yaqeen Hammad, Gaza’s youngest influencer and a symbol of resilience in the face of horror, was killed last Friday when Israeli airstrikes shelled the al-Baraka neighborhood of Deir al-Balah, a region already shredded by months of war. She was among dozens of children killed in Israel’s intensifying military offensive across the Palestinian enclave.
The child who once taught her followers how to cook without gas, because there was no gas, is now a hashtag. A memory. A martyr.
A Humanitarian at Eleven
Yaqeen was not just a child. She was a humanitarian worker, a social media voice of survival, a volunteer, a beacon.
With her older brother Mohamed, a known aid worker in Gaza, she visited shelters, displacement camps, and homes reduced to rubble. They carried food. Toys. Clothes. Hope. Together, they tried to keep children distracted from the war surrounding them. Together, they gave what little comfort could be found.
In one viral post, Yaqeen had written: “I try to bring a bit of joy to the other children so that they can forget the war.”
She danced. She prayed. She handed out ice creams. She posted advice on surviving air raids and managing without clean water. She was a child navigating a battlefield with grace beyond her years. And now, that voice has been silenced.
Her Impact Remains a Beacon of Humanity
The news of her death spread like a shudder through social media. Activists, journalists, fellow aid workers, all mourning. All broken. All struggling to find words.
Gaza-based photojournalist Mahmoud Bassam wrote: “Her body may be gone, but her impact remains a beacon of humanity.”
Another tribute on X simply said: “Instead of being at school and enjoying her childhood, she was active on Instagram and participating in campaigns to help others in Gaza. No words. Absolutely no words.”
She had been working with the Ouena Collective, a grassroots humanitarian initiative in Gaza, delivering not just necessities but comfort. Singing with other children, making videos to distract them, showing the world that even amid fire and ash, joy could survive.
Now, the child who wanted to help others forget the war has become its latest victim.
A Weekend of Blood
Yaqeen’s death is part of a broader, unspeakable tragedy.
Israel’s air campaign intensified over the weekend. At least 52 people were killed on Monday, according to Gaza’s health officials. Thirty-one of them died in a school being used as a shelter. A place they thought was safe. Bombs struck as people slept. Their belongings ignited. Children died holding their mothers.
On Sunday, 38 more people were killed. Among the victims were nine of a pediatrician’s ten children, also killed in the same series of strikes that ended Yaqeen’s life.
More than 100 people were killed in Gaza over the weekend alone. The international community has voiced “outrage,” “concern,” “calls for restraint.” But for Gaza’s children, none of it stops the bombs.
Gaza’s Little Star
Yaqeen Hammad had thousands of followers. But she didn’t seek fame. She wanted to teach people how to live amid the apocalypse. She wanted children to feel happy, if only for a moment. Her smile could shatter a million hearts, and now it has.
She should have been in a school uniform, not a burial shroud. She should have been laughing in a playground, not entombed in rubble. She should have been twelve next year.
Instead, the world must reckon with her loss. A loss not just to Gaza, but to humanity. A child who chose compassion, who carried joy like a banner through a war zone, has been taken.
And the question remains: how many more Yaqeens will the world allow to die before the killing ends?
