“Even now, all I hear is her crying, ‘I’m scared,’ and her plea: ‘Come here, Mama, take me,’” Hind’s mother said.
By Sharon Zhang ,
Hind Rajab’s mother has dismissed the Israeli military’s announcement this week that it is opening a supposed criminal investigation into the killing of her 5-year-old daughter, saying that it is nothing more than a PR move meant to distract from Israel’s ongoing genocide in Gaza.
“Why did the investigation and the acknowledgment of the shooting at Hind’s car and at the paramedics come only after more than two years?” Wesam Hamada, Hind’s mother, told the Associated Press on Friday. “It’s an attempt to distract from what’s happening in Gaza and improve the [Israeli] army’s image to the world. That’s it.”
On Wednesday, Israel’s military acknowledged that its soldiers played a role in the horrific series of events in January 2024, in which Hind, her 15-year-old cousin, and five members of their family were killed.
The military admitted to the slaughter of her adult family members, but did not take responsibility for the killing of Hind or her cousin Layan Hamada specifically, despite numerous independent investigations finding that they were shot by Israeli soldiers in a tank. Israeli soldiers have been found to be targeting children in Gaza, often with gunshots to the head, countless other times since Hind’s killing.
“I don’t trust the Israeli authorities, I don’t trust their government, and I don’t trust any justice system they have,” Hind’s mother said in an interview with NBC. “I don’t want an investigation used to whitewash anyone’s image.”
After Years of Denial, Israel Finally Admits to Role in Killing of Hind Rajab
Israel has maintained a PR campaign for years, supported by the US, denying its soldiers’ role in the brutal killing. By Sharon Zhang , Truthout August 19, 2026
Hind’s grandmother, who is also named Hind Rajab, similarly dismissed the investigation. “For us this is not an admission but rather an attempt by the Israeli army to justify to the world how it committed the crime and how they executed Hind,” she told AFP. “The army is trying to justify its position to the world, claiming that what happened was a mistake and that the soldiers who committed it will be prosecuted.”
An Israeli tank sprayed the car carrying Hind and her family members with hundreds of bullets, despite having a clear line of sight to the children inside, an investigation by Forensic Architecture found.
After her family was killed, Hind remained trapped in the car with their bodies for hours, a tank looming nearby, as Palestinian Red Crescent workers waited for the Israeli military to give clearance for them to rescue her. In those hours, she spoke with rescuers and her mother on the phone. Recordings from the Palestinian Red Crescent documented the terrifying last hours of the little girl’s life before she was gunned down.
“I’m so scared, please come. Please call someone to come and take me,” Hind said to emergency dispatchers.
Rajab noted that Israel only acknowledged Hind’s killing because her harrowing phone call to rescuers became so widely known, pointing out that there are many other similarly horrific killings that Israel will never follow up on.
Hind’s family still mourns her death.
“She died with the most heartbreaking sound I’ve ever heard,” Hamada told NBC. “Even now, all I hear is her crying, ‘I’m scared,’ and her plea: ‘Come here, Mama, take me.’”
Hamada has demanded an independent investigation that will actually lead to answers. “I want to know who killed my daughter, who killed my family members, and who killed the paramedics who went to rescue her. Who gave the orders? Who fired the shots?”
Islam Beyond Phobia
Hind Rajab, the 5-year-old killed in Gaza, should have been enough
(RNS) — One child. Five years old. Trapped inside a car in Gaza City surrounded by the bodies of her dead relatives, pleading into a telephone for someone to come save her.
“Come take me. Please, will you come?”
The world heard Hind Rajab’s voice. We heard her fear. We knew rescuers were trying to reach her. The Palestine Red Crescent Society dispatched two paramedics after coordinating their passage to reach her.
They never reached Hind.
Twelve days later, Hind was found dead in the bullet-riddled car alongside six members of her family. The two paramedics were found dead in their destroyed ambulance roughly 50 meters away. A subsequent forensic investigation, conducted in collaboration with Al Jazeera, mapped 335 bullet holes in the family’s vehicle and concluded that the damage to the ambulance was consistent with Israeli munitions and that Israeli military vehicles were nearby.
On Wednesday (Aug. 19), more than two and a half years after she was killed, the Israeli military acknowledged that its troops had fired on the car and announced a criminal investigation into the family and medical workers’ deaths. The announcement comes after the military initially denied that its forces were even present near the vehicles or within firing range. The Hind Rajab Foundation, which has pursued the case internationally, dismissed the investigation as an attempt to create the appearance of accountability after years of impunity.
But there is a question before the question of whether this investigation will produce justice. That is: Why did we need thousands more dead children before Hind’s death was treated as something worthy of accountability?
Hind should have been enough because one child should always be enough.
The Quran teaches that “whoever unjustly takes a single life, it is as though he has killed all of humanity, and whoever saves one life, it is as though he has saved all of humanity.”
I have reflected on that verse countless times during these years of mass death. God does not allow us to hide the individual inside the statistic.
One life contains a world. One child contains a world. One terrified little girl waiting for an ambulance should contain enough humanity to stop armies, move governments and awaken consciences.
Instead, Hind became one name among thousands. Her story was later dramatized into the award-winning film “The Voice of Hind Rajab,” which moved audiences to tears with the audio of Hind pleading for rescue. The film received a lengthy standing ovation at its Venice Film Festival premiere and won the festival’s Grand Jury Prize.
The emotional response was overwhelming — but it also raised a harder question: If we needed a film to feel what was already happening in real time, what does that say about what we ignored? And if we had to make a film for every Palestinian child, or stand and pray a funeral (janaza) prayer for every one of them, would the world still be able to function, still be able to look away?
UNICEF reported that as of Feb. 3 of this year, at least 21,289 Palestinian children had been killed in Gaza since October 2023. Even after what the world called a ceasefire, Palestinian children continued to die. This month, UNICEF reported at least 300 children were killed during the 300 days following the ceasefire announcement in October 2025.
Bodies of members of the Hassayna and Abu Sharia families, killed in an Israeli strike in 2023 and recently recovered from the rubble, are draped in Palestinian flags during their funeral in Gaza City, Tuesday, Aug. 4, 2026. (AP Photo/Jehad Alshrafi)
One child a day, even after a ceasefire was announced.
What does it say about us that Hind was not enough?
There is another Quranic passage I cannot stop thinking about when I think of Hind.
In describing the Day of Judgment, God paints a haunting scene: “And when the girl-child that was buried alive is asked for what sin she was killed.”
The verse is striking because God does not ask the murderer first. He asks the murdered child. The girl whose life society decided was disposable is brought forward before all of creation. The crime that people normalized on Earth becomes an indictment before God.
For what crime was she killed?
I imagine Hind being asked that question.
What was your crime, Hind?
Was it being Palestinian? Was it being born in Gaza? Was it sitting in a car? Was it surviving the bullets that killed the people around you? Was it asking someone to come get you?
There is no military justification that can make that question disappear. No internal investigation can bury it. No press release can answer it. Criminals can’t investigate themselves or issue statements to make it better.
One day, Hind herself gets to put her criminals on trial before God. But will we also be on trial for indifference?
Hind Rajab should have been enough.
And accountability has certainly not been enough. It is not merely whether a soldier is disciplined or a government publishes an investigation. Accountability means believing that no victim disappears simply because the powerful have moved on.
The Quran’s insistence on the value of a single life is especially necessary in an age of mass death because numbers can become their own form of anesthesia.
Twenty thousand children. Two hundred journalists. Thousands of amputees.
Eventually, the human mind protects itself by turning people into arithmetic.
But Hind was not arithmetic.
She had a voice. We heard it. She was afraid. We heard that too. She waited for adults to save her. And we know how the story ended.
The question now is not merely whether the Israeli military can credibly investigate itself. Human rights organizations and journalists will rightly scrutinize that process. Israel’s record gives ample reason for skepticism. The more important question for the rest of us is why the killing of one little girl was not enough to force a moral reckoning in the first place.
If Hind had been enough, perhaps thousands of children would be alive.
The Quran does not say whoever kills thousands has killed humanity. It says whoever kills one. It also says whoever saves one life, it’s as if they’ve saved all of humanity. So perhaps that’s what we can now hold onto.
Saving another child from Hind’s fate should be enough to keep acting.
Because God knows something about us that we repeatedly forget: Once we permit ourselves to explain away the destruction of one innocent life, we have already crossed the moral boundary that makes the next one easier to explain away.
And when the girl who waited in that car is finally asked, “For what crime were you killed?” the rest of us should fear the questions that will be asked of those who heard her voice and still allowed thousands of children to follow her.
