GAZA, Aug. 27 (Xinhua) -- Eleven-year-old Malak Khader balances on her crutches at the center of a five-a-side football pitch in Gaza City, her eyes fixed on the ball as it weaves between feet and metal poles.
One crutch forward, then the other, she moves cautiously into the game as her teammates pass the ball and coaches call out instructions.
For Khader and the other children here, football is not just a game. It is a way to process loss, regain confidence in bodies altered by war, and piece together a shattered childhood.
Khader lost her right leg during the war. She also lost her entire family after a bombing struck the school where they were sheltering.
"I was trapped under the rubble for hours," she tells Xinhua. "I'm the only survivor from my family."
Pulled from the rubble, the girl underwent multiple surgeries to treat injuries to her abdomen, leg and hand.
Before her injury, she had never played football. But afterward, she found the pitch, a place where, for a few hours, the weight of her new reality lifts.
Every Saturday, she joins other children who have lost limbs or suffered injuries during the conflict, "kicking" the ball across the dusty field.
"Football is the only thing that makes me feel happy and joyful these days," Khader says. "It makes me forget my injury, the tent I live in and the difficult life that has become our daily reality."
On the other side of the pitch, 13-year-old Hanin Ayoub Shaaban Ghanem moves with deliberate precision.
She extends one crutch, nudges the ball with her left foot, and pushes toward the goal in measured strides.
Ghanem lost her right leg during the war, and her sister was killed. Afterward, she withdrew into isolation.
"At first, I would sit alone and feel different from the other children," Ghanem recalls. "I kept thinking about my injury and my sister whom I had lost. I felt that everything had changed suddenly and that I could no longer live as I used to."
Then came football.
"When I started coming to the playground and playing with the other children, I began to feel that I wasn't alone," Ghanem says. "At first, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up with them, but they encouraged and helped me."
"Now I try, I move, and I learn how to play using my crutch and my other leg. I feel that I can do things I never thought I could do," Ghanem says.
"When I play, I feel free, like any other child. I don't think about the injury, the tent or the war. I just want to play, laugh and feel that I can keep going."
Ahmed Badwan, a coach with the Palestine Amputee Football Association, says the group he coaches includes about 15 girls and a similar number of boys. The association currently supports more than 90 amputees across Gaza.
"The goal is not only to teach children how to play football," Badwan explains, "but also to help them overcome the psychological trauma they experienced during the war and after their amputations. We try to help them adapt to their new reality and regain their self-confidence."
According to the Gaza-based social development authorities, over 5,000 amputations have been recorded in the enclave, including 700 among children. About 10,000 children now live with permanent disabilities, while fewer than a quarter of those needing prosthetic limbs have received them.
Badwan dreams of one day taking the children to international matches and championships, so they might see themselves not only as survivors, but also as athletes.
For Khader and Ghanem, such stages may still feel distant. But for now, they keep coming back to the pitch, playing with friends, chasing the ball, and laughing in the dust. ■
