Motaz Azaiza should have been dead by now. Death stalked the streets of Deir al-Balah where he grew up, long before Israel’s assault on Gaza. There had been close encounters in the past; as a teen he was once shot by an Israeli sniper. When Israel launched its offensive in Gaza after the 7 October Hamas attacks, Azaiza picked up his camera and headed to the frontlines. Despite his clearly marked press vest, in December he narrowly avoided being hit again by Israeli forces. Israel denies targeting journalists but, according to a group of UN experts, more than 122 journalists and media professionals in Gaza have been killed so far: the deadliest conflict for members of the press in recent history. “Israel won’t allow international journalists into Gaza and is killing those reporting from within,” says Azaiza. “It is a deliberate attempt to obscure the Palestinian narrative and erase the truth.” Azaiza spent 107 days documenting the conflict, during which 15 members of his own family, including his aunt and cousins, were killed. “I rushed to report on a nearby bombing, only to realise my aunt’s house had been targeted,” he says. “I found their dismembered bodies strewn on the streets and spent a day collecting their body parts. The force of the explosion had obliterated others, leaving no trace of their remains – whole human beings reduced to nothingness.” He has lost count of the number of friends he has lost. In the days leading up to his evacuation, he says Israeli drones hovered above his home and he began receiving death threats from unknown numbers. The bombs got closer and louder. “I would lie awake in my bed thinking, ‘Any moment now, I will be next,’” he says. Azaiza survived and on a sunny afternoon in Doha, the 25-year-old looks out from a window at the futuristic skyline of Qatar’s glitzy capital, nestled along the Gulf coast; a stark contrast to the destruction he has left behind. “It feels strange being here,” says Azaiza. “Nothing feels real any more.” Azaiza was born and raised in Deir al-Balah, a city on the Mediterranean in central Gaza. “Its name means the monastery of dates, referring to the abundant date palms that used to grow there,” says Azaiza, who studied English translation at Al-Azhar University – which Israel recently bombed. Although Azaiza has lived through many Israeli offensives, this has been by far the worst. “It’s unlike anything we’ve ever experienced,” he says. Through his lens, the rest of the world was able to witness the devastation in Gaza – often in the form of raw, unfiltered videos of those killed or injured. His unedited footage surged in popularity and he now has more than 18.5 million followers on social media. “I’m not a celebrity, nor would I ever want to be. Before this, I was a very private person,” says Azaiza, who now gets recognised on Doha’s streets and is regularly approached for selfies. But he also feels a sense of protection from his large following. While covering the war, there were days he couldn’t post and he’d return to viral hashtags started by his followers demanding to know where he is. “They now feel like family,” says Azaiza. More than 28,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israel since October, according to Gaza’s health ministry, most of them women and children, while 85% of the besieged strip’s 2.3 million population has been displaced. Like many Palestinians, Azaiza refers to Israel’s offensive in Gaza as genocide – an accusation Israel denies. In an interim ruling last month, the UN’s international court of justice ordered Israel to ensure its forces did not commit acts of genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. “People no longer trust the mainstream media,” says Azaiza. “Newspapers reporting remotely – even from Jerusalem – are so far from the reality. Social media has enabled people to watch a genocide unfold in real time.” Last year, GQ Middle East featured Azaiza as its 2023 man of the year in recognition of his courage and resilience. One of his photos, showing a young Palestinian girl trapped under rubble after an Israeli attack, was also among Time’s top 10 photos of 2023. But it is not his war photography that Azaiza wants to be known for. “I wish people knew me for my art,” he says. Before the war, Azaiza would create portraits of ordinary Palestinians doing everyday things; a fruit seller at the market, a picnic on the beach, children chasing one another down a cobbled street. “I wanted to capture the beauty of my people,” he says. Azaiza was evacuated from Gaza last month, along with his parents and siblings. The family travelled to Egypt’s El Arish airport, 30 miles from the Gaza border, and were flown to Doha on a military jet – their first time on a plane. But there was no excitement. “We left with broken hearts,” he says. The guilt of leaving Gaza has taken its toll on Azaiza, who can’t stop thinking about those he has left behind. “At night, I dream I am still there. I close my eyes and am haunted by the faces of innocent children buried beneath the rubble.” During the day, routine tasks such as grocery shopping or going for a walk are interrupted by sudden flashbacks of the horrors he has witnessed. “The ghosts of Gaza follow me everywhere I go,” he says. One particular incident keeps him up at night. One morning during the war, Azaiza set out from his house with his camera, ready to capture the aftermath of an Israeli airstrike the night before. “Suddenly I stumbled over something and fell,” he says. As Azaiza tried to get back up, he realised he had fallen over the dead body of an elderly neighbour, partly concealed by rubble. “I couldn’t contain my emotions,” he says. “I started howling there on the street. I had known this man since I was a kid. He was the kindest, gentlest soul you’d ever meet.” Azaiza’s camera roll is packed with one heartbreaking image after another, including some he can’t bring himself to publicly share; one photo shows the charred, lifeless body of a Palestinian baby with both eyes missing. Another depicts health workers sorting human remains into plastic bags. “My brain still hasn’t properly processed some of the things I’ve seen,” he says. Azaiza has little hope that Israel will stop its offensive any time soon or that the international court of justice will force a break in the fighting. “We are talking about the UN’s highest court and it wasn’t even able to make Israel suspend its airstrikes or call for a permanent ceasefire. “For the last 75 years, no one has been able to hold Israel accountable for its crimes,” he continues. “Israel is emboldened by the support of countries such as the UK and US, which allow it to act with complete impunity.” As a journalist, Azaiza feels particularly outraged by much of the western media’s coverage of the conflict, which he says shows a clear bias. Since arriving in Doha, Azaiza has been busy meeting ministers, diplomats and the media; he has been sharing his firsthand accounts of the war and calling for an immediate ceasefire. Azaiza doesn’t plan on settling in Qatar in the long term and one day hopes to return to Gaza to help rebuild his city. “Until then, I will continue speaking up against the occupation and the genocide being committed against my people,” he says. “To be clear, this is not a war against Hamas,” says Azaiza. “This is and has always been a war against the Palestinian people. Israel’s plan is to bury us or push us out – as we have just seen with the Rafah bombing. There is literally nowhere else for us to go.” Azaiza urges the world not to look away. “As humans, we all have a responsibility to bear witness to what is happening in Gaza,” he says. “I tried my best to show the world our reality, now the world needs to show where it stands. It is ordinary people, men and women, who have the power to save what remains of Palestine. Our plea is simple – we just want to live.”