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RAMALLAH, WEST BANK —In a municipal building in Ramallah, a city in the occupied West Bank, hundreds of men spend their days despairing, as the war between Israel and Hamas takes an increasing toll on civilians in Gaza.
The men are workers who are stuck outside of Gaza, as their parents, siblings, wives and children try to survive Israel's bombings on the inside.
Many say they would prefer to risk death and go home than stay in Ramallah and hear about their families' suffering through phone calls or text messages.
Before this renewed war began, Saleh Hassan, 45, was supporting his wife and three teenage daughters in Gaza as a construction worker in Israel. After Hamas launched a massive surprise attack that killed more than 1,400 people in Israel, his world came crashing down.
Israel has responded with near-constant strikes that have killed about 3,000 people and wounded more than 12,500, according to the Ministry of Health in Gaza.
"We were simple people living our lives," says Hassan, turning his head from a camera because he doesn't want his face seen for security reasons. "We have nothing to do with what is happening."
Hassan's work permit, along with those of thousands of other workers from Gaza, was canceled by text message in the days following the initial invasion by Hamas.
"My daughter is in her second year of university and was learning English," he continues. "She wanted to graduate. But now our dreams are shattered. Everything is destroyed."
More than 2 million people live inside Gaza, an enclave that is roughly 40 kilometers by 10 kilometers in size. The only border crossing between Israel and Gaza was destroyed on the first day of the war. Families have been told to evacuate certain areas of Gaza, but they can only go to other, slightly less dangerous parts of the enclave.
Hassan says his family wouldn't leave, even if they could.
"They say, 'We want to stay in our house until they shell us,'" he tells VOA.
Other men echo his sentiment, saying Gaza families ought to stay put, lest Israel take the last bits of land still held by Palestinians after more than a century of conflict in one form or another.
But their resolve quickly dissolves into tears when they speak about their children.
"It took my wife and I five years to have children," says one man, another construction worker who said he preferred not to be named. "Now we have two children, but I cannot be with them. I want to die."
The men say Israeli bombing has been relentless on the families hiding inside, and everyone knows of someone who is missing or dead. Quietly, some also blame Hamas, saying they knew when the invasion began, it was primarily civilians who would suffer.
Aid workers are providing food and housing for the men and trying to offer psychological support, says volunteer Israa Ghannam, 28, from Ramallah. But the level of anguish here is beyond soothing, she says.
"Last night there were 800 here," she explains. "We are giving them food and trying to calm them because they are devastated by news from their families."
Resources are scarce and supplies are already running low, she adds, and limited support is coming in from donors and the local government in the West Bank. It's not clear how long the make-shift shelter can operate.
Israel has vowed to utterly defeat Hamas in this war, and Hamas has declared it has a plan to defend itself.
Many men here say they have given up hope for a happy outcome and believe that they may never see their families again.
"Our families are being killed and we are here," says Hassan. "If I could find a way to go to Gaza, I would go first thing in the morning."