A Promise to Ismail al-Ghoul: Two Years On, Gaza's Story Still Told
Ohood Nassar
Two years after the Israeli strike that killed Al Jazeera's Ismail al-Ghoul, a young Palestinian woman he inspired recounts the friendship, the keepsakes, and the promise to keep Gaza's story alive. His cap and coffee thermos were lost when her family's home was destroyed, but his words still guide her writing.
On July 31, 2024, in the Remal neighborhood of Gaza City, a young woman was shopping with her sisters when she received the devastating news: Al Jazeera journalist Ismail al-Ghoul had been killed in an Israeli airstrike. She was stunned, in tears, and asked one question: why?
She had not just lost a journalist reporting on Gaza; she had lost a close friend. Ismail was a man who loved life, who yearned to reunite with his wife and his young daughter Zina after the war.
Meeting at al-Shifa Hospital
She first met Ismail while her family was sheltering at al-Shifa Hospital. Her father brought her to him, hoping he could help charge her phone, which had been dead for more than three weeks due to the lack of electricity. Ismail was filming a report at the time, wearing a bulletproof vest, a helmet, and holding an Al Jazeera microphone as he covered the situation in Gaza.
After the broadcast, when he learned that she spoke fluent English, Ismail advised: “Invest in your English. Use it to carry our voices to the world.” That advice seemed impossible at the time, but it stayed with her through the months that followed.
A Friend of the Family
Over time, Ismail became a close friend of the family. He often spoke of his daughter Zina and his dream that the war would end so he could return to his family. Her father affectionately called him “Abu Zina” (father of Zina) and wished for his quick reunion with his wife and child, who had fled to southern Gaza. When he heard that wish, Ismail smiled and embraced her father.
Ismail was also close to her brother, Oday. After her father was injured during an evacuation, Ismail visited and promised to cook a fish meal for the family once he recovered. At that time, fish was nearly impossible to buy—it was both dangerous and expensive. When her father tried to decline, Ismail just laughed: “You are my dear friend, Abu Oday.”
Ismail almost always carried a small thermos of hot coffee. One day, Oday came home and said: “Today I had coffee with Ismail.” Her brother didn't like coffee, but Ismail handed him the cup and said: “If you care for me, drink it.” Oday drank it.
Last Keepsakes
In June 2024, the family had to move again, this time to a friend of her father's in Remal. For the first time in months, she was able to charge her phone and get online. She remembered Ismail's advice and began reaching out to news organizations to write in English, telling Gaza's story.
A month later, just hours before he was killed, Ismail sat with her brother in the family's car near al-Shifa Hospital. He was still drinking coffee from his familiar thermos, wearing a beige cap to protect himself from the sun. When he left for his final assignment, he forgot both the cap and the thermos in the car.
After Ismail's death, her father kept both items. He would often wear the cap and say: “This is what Ismail left behind.” The family carried those keepsakes through every displacement, until they returned to their damaged home in northern Gaza, hoping to rebuild it.
But in mid-May 2025, the Israeli military called to order an urgent evacuation because the house was about to be bombed. They had to leave everything behind, including Ismail's cap and coffee thermos. The house was destroyed, along with the last mementos of him.
The Promise Remains
Two years after Ismail al-Ghoul's death, the words he spoke at al-Shifa Hospital still guide that young woman. After his passing, she made a promise to continue telling Gaza's story to the world. Each article is an effort to keep that promise, to ensure that Ismail's death—and those of thousands of others—are not forgotten.
Israel did not just kill a journalist that day. They killed a father desperate to hold his daughter, a husband waiting for the war to end so he could return home, and a friend whose kindness touched everyone who knew him.