A journalist from Gaza named Mariam Abu Dagga was killed by an Israeli attack after she "carried her camera into the heart of the field

 

Despite being only 33 years old, Mariam Abu Dagga prepared her will, as is usually customary for journalists covering Gaza. She gave two directions for her coworkers: don't cry at her burial, and make her proud, 13-year-old son Ghaith.

On Monday, Dagga's coworkers were unable to stop crying over her body in spite of her orders. While hurrying to check on a colleague who had been hit by Israel at al-Nasser hospital, where she had frequently covered during the war in Gaza, she and four other journalists were killed by Israel.

When we said goodbye to her, Mariam had told us not to cry for her. Before she departed, she wanted us to talk to her, spend time with her body, and get our fill of her," said Samaheer Farhan, a close friend of Dagga and a 21-year-old freelance journalist.

Despite the frequently extremely personal losses she endured during the conflict, the 33-year-old photojournalist served as an inspiration to Farhan and numerous other journalists in Gaza who respected her unwavering reporting.

Tragic events marked the beginning of her ascent to prominence as a journalist. She documented the shooting death of a protester during the Great March of Return in Gaza in 2018, when Israeli soldiers opened fire on demonstrators advancing on the border barrier, leaving over 2,200 Palestinians dead and over 9,200 injured. The protester turned out to be her brother, she found out later.

Over the past 22 months, Dagga has continued to work as a journalist in Gaza, doing freelance work for Independent Arabia and the Associated Press.

In addition to praising her for bringing "her camera into the heart of the field, conveying the suffering of civilians and the voices of victims with rare honesty and courage," Independent Arabia described her as the "example of dedication and professional commitment."

Her reportage and photos emphasized the hardship of Gaza's civilian population while showcasing the humanity of her subjects.

Her photograph of five-year-old Jamal al-Najjar, who had died of starvation only weeks before, showed the boy wrapped in a shroud and put gently on bricks, keeping his small body off the ground. In a different image, scores of Palestinians were seen scurrying to grab food off an aid truck in southern Gaza, a scene of bodies as they fought for the limited supplies.

She was also well-known among her coworkers for her commitment and friendliness.

"Mariam was gentle, polite, and incredibly passionate about what she did. Despite losing both her mother and Abu Anas, her closest coworker, she continued to cover the battle without missing a day, according to Farhan.

Having reported from some of Gaza's most dangerous places, they also said she had a reputation for being courageous.

She was aware of the risks associated with working as a journalist in Palestinian territory, much like other members of the Gaza press corps.

Since it started on October 7, 2023, the war in Gaza has killed more than 192 Palestinian journalists, making it the worst time in the history of journalism.

Israel's "broadcasted killing of journalists in Gaza" was denounced by the Committee to Protect Journalists. In response to Monday's killings of the five journalists, Israel's military stated that it "does not target journalists as such."

After her son and his father were relocated to the United Arab Emirates, Dagga had not seen him for a year and a half.

She yearned to see and hold her son once more. Farhan stated, "Mariam passed away without having been able to fulfill her dream of holding her child again."

Dagga left her hopes that her son Ghaith will always grow up to achieve his goals.

In a letter to her son, she wrote, "My dear, I want you to make me proud by succeeding and excelling, proving yourself, and becoming a great businessman." "Name your daughter Mariam after me when you grow up, get married, and have a daughter. You are my kid, of whom I am proud, my love, my heart, my support, and my soul.