In the midst of a still shaky ceasefire, Gazans are taking the first tentative steps along the long road to recovery.
Bulldozers are clearing roads, shoveling the detritus of war into waiting trucks. Mountains of rubble and twisted metal are on either side, the remains of once bustling neighborhoods.
Parts of Gaza City are disfigured beyond recognition.
This was my house, says Abu Iyad Hamdouna. He points to a mangled heap of concrete and steel in Sheikh Radwan, which was once one of Gaza City's most densely populated neighborhoods. It was here. But there's no house left.
Abu Iyad is 63. If Gaza ever rises from the ashes, he doesn't expect to be around to see it. At this rate, I think it'll take 10 years. We'll die without seeing reconstruction.
Nearby, 43-year-old Nihad al-Madhoun and his nephew Said are picking through the wreckage of what was once a home. The removal of rubble alone might take more than five years, he says. And we will wait. We have no other option.
The sheer scale of the challenge is staggering. The UN estimates the cost of damage at £53bn ($70bn). Almost 300,000 houses and apartments have been damaged or destroyed, according to the UN's satellite center Unosat.
Gazans are pessimistic about plans devised abroad, preferring local initiatives that reflect their realities. Mayor Yahya al-Sarraj has introduced The Phoenix of Gaza, a collaborative vision created by Palestinian experts during the war.
In contrast, former U.S. President Trump's plan offers a lavish, foreign-centric reconstruction vision called the 'Gaza Riviera,' which raised doubts among locals regarding its feasibility and sincerity.
As the region grapples with political and security complications, the question remains: whose vision will shape Gaza’s future?"
