United Nations rejects Israel’s threat to expel Gaza residents over kite-flying. United Nations rights office spokesperson slams Israeli threat of forced evacuations from Gaza communities over kite flying.

Palestinian children hold kites during a gathering at Gaza Port on August 25, 2026 [Majdi Fathi/NurPhoto via Getty Images]

 

By Al Jazeera Staff, AFP and Reuters

Published On 26 Aug 202626 Aug 2026

The United Nations has condemned Israel’s threat to expel Palestinians from areas of the besieged Gaza Strip where kites were being flown by children.

“On the threat of expulsion due to children’s kite flying, I hope we can all agree that this is outrageous,” UN rights office spokeswoman Ravina Shamdasani told reporters on Tuesday.

Israel warned Hamas on Sunday that it would intensify military operations if kites, drones or balloons continue, saying those responsible would be targeted.

Several kites not carrying incendiary devices were reported to have drifted into southern Israeli communities over the last month. The incidents have evoked memories of incendiary kites and balloons launched from Gaza in 2018, in what Palestinians said was a protest against the Israeli blockade of the enclave.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defence Minister Israel Katz, in a joint statement on Sunday, said “Israel warns Hamas that if the launches toward Israel do not cease immediately”, Israeli forces “will take action to intensify targeted operations against those responsible”. They “will evacuate the population from areas from which kites, drones and balloons are launched”, it added.

Gaza’s popular committees, coordinating with Hamas authorities, urged parents on Monday to stop children flying kites, saying they were acting “to protect their innocent lives”.

“Every summer, my kid, Ahmed, and the kids in the street fly those kites to entertain themselves,” Umm Mohammed, a mother in Gaza City, told the Reuters news agency. “But [now] I will not allow him to – not any more.”

Basem Naim, a member of Hamas’s political bureau, rejected the Israeli warning over the kites.

“Is it conceivable that attempts to appease the war criminal Netanyahu have led them to describe innocent children’s activities as armed activities, while Netanyahu continues to kill and destroy daily despite the agreement?”

The dispute comes amid a “ceasefire” in Gaza that has failed to halt Israeli attacks. More than 1,280 Palestinians have been killed since the agreement took effect in October, according to Gaza’s Ministry of Health.

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/8/26/un-rejects-israels-threat-to-expel-gaza-residents-over-kite-flying 

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"Because, after all, how do you explain to a 12-year-old that one of the world’s most powerful militaries is designating paper kites as “weapons of war” in a completely devastated area?" Maha Hussaini of Palestine

 Maha Hussaini

@MahaGaza

 

Two weeks ago, Nazeeh, my first nephew, flew a kite for the first time in his life. 

 

He is 12, however, and he should have learned how to fly kites years ago. But when he was old enough to learn, the genocide began. For the next three years, the things he learned were how to cut firewood with his father for cooking, collect water, and move from one shelter to another. 

 

Earlier this month, we went to the beach together as a family. 

 

In every break he took from swimming, I noticed him watching boys flying kites. 

 

“Nazeeh,” I called. “Look around. If you see anyone selling kites, let’s get you one.” 

 

His eyes lit up. He jumped up and started asking around. 

 

We couldn’t find anyone selling one. And just as he came back disappointed, I called over a boy flying a black-and-white kite. 

 

“Where did you buy it?” I asked. 

 

“Do you want one?” he asked back. 

 

He told us he made the kites himself from nylon and sticks and sold them to earn a little pocket money. He offered us the kite for very little. So we got it. 

 

For the next few hours, I had to reach back into my own childhood to teach Nazeeh how to fly it. 

 

Every time I let out more string and the kite climbed higher, he would jump and shout: “Higher! Higher!” 

 

I hadn’t seen my little genius this excited in a long time. 

 

Nazeeh isn’t easily impressed by ordinary children’s toys. He is the kind of kid who would rather take things apart and fix them, especially electronics, or sit watching “how-to” videos. 

 

At one point, laughing, he said: “Wow, how beautiful it is to drive something in the sky.”  He knew “drive” wasn’t quite the right word. But I knew exactly what he meant. 

 

As I expected, the kite didn’t stay the way he had bought it. The next day, he asked his mother to show him YouTube videos on how to make kites. Then he rebuilt his own. 

 

He used different nylon. He glued a Palestinian flag onto it. And he wrote “Gaza” on every side, preparing it for our next trip to the beach. 

 

But yesterday, his parents told him he couldn’t fly it outside the house. 

 

“Why?” he asked. 

 

I’m not sure what they told him, but I’m sure they couldn’t put into words how Israel’s Prime Minister and Defense Minister have themselves threatened intensified bombing and forced evacuations of areas in Gaza where children are spotted flying kites. 

 

Because, after all, how do you explain to a 12-year-old that one of the world’s most powerful militaries is designating paper kites as “weapons of war” in a completely devastated area? 

https://x.com/MahaGaza/status/2091823635409346902

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My Sister Najah (AY) By Mike Odetalla of Beit Hanina, Palestine

Mike Hanini Odetalla

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My Sister Najah (AY)

By Mike Odetalla

 

As a small boy growing up in our village of Beit Hanina, Palestine, I was a mischievous child with an insatiable curiosity and an irrepressible desire to roam. The hills that encircled our village were my kingdom, and escaping the watchful eyes of my family became an art form that might well have made Harry Houdini proud.

 

I was the youngest of five children—two brothers and two sisters, all much older than I was. The sibling closest to me in age was my sister Najah, who was six years older. Because of that, and perhaps because she was the most patient, my mother often entrusted her with the daunting task of watching over me whenever she left the house.

 

My mother’s instructions were simple and direct: “Keep an eye on your brother and make sure he does not leave.”

 

Najah did her best, but I was determined.

 

I would wait patiently for the slightest distraction. Then, with my homemade slingshot clutched in one hand, I would slip outside, climb over the patio, leap onto the wall that separated our home from the neighbors’, and within moments I would be scaling the steep hill that rose behind our house.

 

Those hills were my paradise.

 

There, I flew homemade kites that danced against the blue Palestinian sky. I explored ancient caves that seemed filled with mystery and adventure. I stalked birds with my slingshot, imagining myself a great hunter. To a little boy, those hills were not merely part of the landscape—they were a vast and wondrous playground where I experienced some of the happiest moments of my childhood.

 

Eventually, my mother would return home and ask Najah the inevitable question.

“Did your brother give you any trouble?”

 

Unaware that I had vanished, Najah would answer confidently, “No, he is inside playing.”

 

But when my mother stepped into the house and found it empty, she knew immediately where I had gone.

 

Turning to my sister, she would scold her and issue a command she had repeated many times before:

 

“Go find your brother. And don’t hit him.”

 

Both Najah and I understood that the first part of the order would be obeyed. The second part was open to interpretation.

 

As Najah climbed the steep hill, her anger grew with every step. Not because she hated me, but because she knew she was the one who had gotten into trouble for my latest escape. Along the way, she would inevitably break off a thin switch from a nearby tree, preparing to administer justice.

 

At the top of the hill, she always knew exactly where to find me.

 

She would seize me by the ear, scold me fiercely, and swat me on the backside with the switch, paying little heed to our mother’s instructions.

 

The truth is, her punishment never hurt very much.

 

But I had learned a strategy of my own.

 

The moment she struck me, I would let out dramatic wails and sobs as though I were suffering unbearable agony. My exaggerated cries had the desired effect. Panic would spread across Najah’s face as she imagined what our mother would do if she believed that real harm had come to me.

 

In desperation, she would quickly begin negotiations.

 

“Please stop crying,” she would plead. “I will buy you a piece of Silvana chocolate if you promise not to tell Mother.”

 

Silvana chocolate was among the finest bribes a child could receive.

 

The tears would dry almost instantly.

 

We would then descend the hill together, our secret safely preserved between us, both of us knowing that the same adventure would likely be repeated again before long.

 

As the years passed, childhood gave way to adulthood. Life carried us to different places and eventually to different states. Yet distance did nothing to diminish the bond between us. In many ways, it strengthened it.

 

Whenever we were together, our conversations inevitably drifted back to those magical days in Palestine—to the hills of Beit Hanina, my daring escapes, and the cherished Silvana chocolates that sealed our conspiracies.

 

We laughed until tears filled our eyes.

 

What I did not fully appreciate as a child was that behind Najah’s scolding, her switch, and even her exasperation, there was a love as steadfast as the hills themselves. She protected me, worried about me, and carried the burden of responsibility placed upon her by our mother.

 

She was not merely my older sister.

 

She was my guardian, my accomplice, my confidante, and eventually my closest friend.

 

Ten years ago, my beloved sister Najah returned to her Creator.

 

With her passing, I lost far more than a sister.

 

I lost a treasured part of my childhood, the keeper of our shared memories, and one of the people who loved me most deeply in this world.

 

Yet whenever I close my eyes, I can still see her climbing that hill, a switch in one hand and determination in her stride, pretending to be angry while her heart overflowed with love.

 

And somewhere in that memory, I am once again a little boy in Beit Hanina—running free beneath the Palestinian sky, with my sister always finding her way to me.

 https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10165969600031977&set=pcb.10165969600286977

Mike Hanini Odetalla with his beloved sister

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If I Must Die a book of poetry and prose by Refaat Alareer of Palestine: "If I must die, let it bring hope, let it be a tale..."

 

If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer (Author), Yousef M. Aljamal (Compiler), Susan Abulhawa (Foreword)

“If I must die, let it bring hope, let it be a tale.”

This rich, elegiac compilation of work from the late Palestinian poet and professor, Refaat Alareer, brings together his marvelous poetry and deeply human writing about literature, teaching, politics, and family.

The renowned poet and literature professor Refaat Alareer was killed by an Israeli airstrike in Gaza City alongside his brother, sister, and nephews in December 2023. He was just forty-four years old, but had already established a worldwide reputation that was further enhanced when, in the wake of his death, the poem that gives this book its title became a global sensation. “If I Must Die” is included here, alongside Refaat’s other poetry.

Refaat wrote extensively about a range of topics: teaching Shakespeare and the way Shylock could be appreciated by young Palestinian students; the horrors of living under repeated brutal assaults in Gaza, one of which, in 2014, killed another of his brothers; and the generosity of Palestinians to each other, fighting, in the face of it all, to be the one paying at the supermarket checkout.

Such pieces, some never before published, have been curated here by one of Refaat’s closest friends and collaborators. This collection forms a fitting testament to a remarkable writer, educator, and activist, one whose voice will not be silenced by death but will continue to assert the power of learning and humanism in the face of barbarity.   

Amazon 

Barnes & Noble 

Refaat Alareer, poet born and died in Gaza, Palestine

Refaat Alareer was killed because his message reached the world

Irish Palestine Solidarity Campaign IPSC - Flight of Return Kites for Palestine 2024

Irish Palestine Solidarity Campaign IPSC - Flight of Return Kites for Palestine

 

The now-famous poem “If I must die” by Refaat Al-Areer was written to his daughter Shaymaa, who Refaat foresaw as his continued presence on this earth, even after his departure from it. Today, Israel murdered Shaymaa, her husband, and their newborn child, in a deliberate assassination.

 

palestinianyouthmovement

 6h

The now-famous poem “If I must die” by Refaat Al-Areer was written to his daughter Shaymaa, who Refaat foresaw as his continued presence on this earth, even after his departure from it. Today, Israel murdered Shaymaa, her husband, and their newborn child, in a deliberate assassination.

Shaymaa was an artist in her own right, whose calligraphy work was known to many in Gaza. She now joins Refaat as a martyr, along with her child who was not yet born at the time Israel murdered his grandfather Refaat. Shaymaa had maintained a WhatsApp group in loving memory of her father that included former students and readers of his works, and had shared in the group the pain of confronting the fact that her child would never know his grandfather.

As family and loved ones of Shaymaa and Refaat mourn yet another deep and shocking loss, we contend that Refaat and Shaymaa’s spirit live on in their people and in their nation. If they must die, then we must live. May their names and their memories be recalled at the hour of Palestine’s liberation.

Ahmed Masoud "I am currently tumbling in a drum of emotion..."

"My sister sent me this pic from Rafah, I am currently tumbling in a drum of emotions - feeling sorry for her, seeing the kite and remembering my friend Refaat Alareer, thinking of my grandfather who was kicked out of his home in 1948 & my growing up in Jabalia refugee Camp" Ahmed Masoud

@masoud_ahmed

Historical photo of the day: In 2011, thirteen thousand Palestinian children smashed a Guinness World Record on a beach in northern Gaza for the largest number of people flying kites simultaneously.

 Thanks to Mike Hanini Odetalla (born in Palestine) for posting this comment & photo on social media this morning

If I must die... a poem by Refaat Alareer

 

UNRWA Reaching for the sky: Gaza children at UN Summer Games, snatch the world record for kite flying back from China

Kite-flying Guinness World Record, Gaza 2011

UNRWA Albums: On Thursday 28 July 2011, the children of Gaza set their last and biggest Guinness World Record for this year, for the largest number of kites flown simultaneously.

The event went ahead just hours after masked men vandalised the world record site. Like true champions, the children refused to be intimidated and broke the record of 10,465 kites set earlier this year in China.

The world record attempt was generously supported by the European Union, Finland, Australia and the United States.

World record success proves children’s potential

“It was nothing short of miraculous," said Gunness. “The tiny “David” of Gaza has overcome the mighty “Goliath” of China; even more astonishing that the children of Gaza achieved this under the punishing, illegal blockade. Three-quarters of a million children are being collectively punished and there must be transparency and accountability to end this affront to our humanity. The kites will provide another iconic reminder of the beauty and potential of these children, despite the injustices they face.”

The event marked the end of Summer Games 2011, during which the children of Gaza have smashed the world records for the largest number of people flying parachutes from the ground, the largest number of people dribbling footballs simultaneously and for producing the world’s largest-ever handprint painting.

The Games give 250,000 children across Gaza a much-needed respite from the difficulties of their daily lives – offering them a safe place to swim, play and make new friends.

Six weeks of fun and laughter

To see all the action from the last six weeks of Summer Games, join us on Facebook or visit our Summer Games section.

This world record was funded by the people of:

United States
European Union
Finland
Australia

Donate to UNRWA