West Bank teenagers face permanent disability from Israeli military fire

In Askar refugee camp, a densely packed settlement of 24,000 people squeezed into an area roughly the size of 17 football fields, children no longer play beneath the olive trees on Tel Askar’s slopes. The reason is straightforward: Israeli soldiers shoot there regularly.

Amjad Refaee, who runs the camp’s social development centre, describes the toll. Israeli forces have killed three teenagers on that hillside since October 2023 and disabled many more. Soldiers have shifted tactics, he says, abandoning rubber bullets and below-the-waist targeting in favor of lethal and permanently disabling shots.

Amir Othman, 18, was an accomplished dancer and footballer until January when he caught a bullet in the leg while evacuating a wounded friend during a military convoy operation. His kneecap and thighbone shattered. After four operations, doctors tell him his mobility will never fully return. “I couldn’t feel my leg anymore, so I thought I had lost it,” he recalled. When he woke from the first surgery, he asked his uncle to shoot him.

Yamen Habron, 17, dropped out of school to help his family. Soldiers shot him twice as he approached his front door after the gym. One bullet lodged in his hip; another sliced through his side. He spent two weeks in intensive care with his father and brother fighting to keep him conscious while military jeeps blocked the ambulance. He now walks with a permanent limp.

Islam Madani, 32, was shot by a sniper at 7:30 am on his way to work at a factory. The bullet entered his knee from behind and exited the front, leaving severe scarring. Multiple surgeries followed. He’s no longer employed and struggles to stand for extended periods. His four-year-old son now cries uncontrollably whenever soldiers enter the camp, having witnessed what happened to his father.

Defense for Children International-Palestine documents 157 child deaths in the West Bank and occupied East Jerusalem since 2024. Israeli authorities deny targeting children, citing security concerns and the need to counter Palestinian fighters. Yet the men interviewed emphasize that none of them have been involved in militant groups. They were simply present.

Askar represents one of 19 refugee camps in the occupied West Bank, originally conceived as temporary shelter for those expelled during 1948’s Nakba. Decades later, they remain crowded, poverty-stricken, and increasingly militarized. For residents like Islam Madani, safety has evaporated. “Anyone can get shot,” he said. “There is no safety. I was just walking to work.”