Israeli forces have killed at least 27 Palestinians and injured 90 more as they opened fire close to an aid distribution site in Rafah, according to the Ministry of Health in Gaza.

The latest killings came early on Tuesday at the Flag Roundabout, near an aid hub operated by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF).

It was the third such incident around the Rafah hub in as many days. Gaza’s authorities report that more than 100 aid seekers have been killed since the United States- and Israel-backed GHF started operating in the enclave on May 27, with reports of violence, looting and chaos rife.

The Israeli military said it had fired shots as “a number of suspects” deviated from the regulated routes, on which a crowd was making its way to the GHF distribution complex.

The “suspects” were about 500 metres (approximately 550 yards) from the site, the military said in a statement on Telegram, adding that it was looking into reports of casualties.

The death toll was confirmed by Zaher al-Waheidi, head of the Gaza Health Ministry’s records department.

A spokesperson for the International Committee of the Red Cross, Hisham Mhanna, said 184 wounded people had been taken to its field hospital in Rafah, 19 of whom were found dead on arrival, and eight others died later of their wounds.

Video verified by Al Jazeera’s Sanad fact-checking agency showed the arrival of dozens of injured people at the hospital.

Lured

Gaza’s Government Media Office accused Israel of “a horrific, intentionally repeated crime”, saying it has been luring starving Palestinians to the GHF centres – controversially opened following an 11-week total blockade to take over most aid distribution from the United Nations and other aid agencies – and then opening fire.

It said Tuesday’s death toll brought the number of aid seekers killed at aid sites in the Rafah governorate and the so-called Netzarim Corridor since GHF launched operations to 102, with 490 others injured.

The United Nations on Monday demanded an independent investigation into the repeated mass shootings of aid seekers in Gaza.

“It is unacceptable that Palestinians are risking their lives for food,” said Secretary General Antonio Guterres. “I call for an immediate and independent investigation into these events and for perpetrators to be held accountable.”

“We heard from witnesses that there was chaos,” said Al Jazeera’s Hind Khoudary, reporting about Tuesday’s killings from Deir el-Balah in central Gaza. “The Israeli forces just opened fire randomly, shooting Palestinians … using quadcopters and live ammunition.”

Health Ministry officials and doctors said most of the wounded have been hit in their chest and head, she added.

The bloodshed, she continued, had unfolded in the same way as on the previous two days, amid ongoing chaos around the aid distribution centres.

“There’s no process. There’s no system,” she said. “You just need to run first to be able to get the food.”

‘Either way, we will die’

Rasha al-Nahal told The Associated Press news agency that “there was gunfire from all directions”, and that she saw more than a dozen people dead and several wounded on the road.

When she finally made it to the distribution hub, there was no aid, al-Nahal said, adding that Israeli troops “fired at us as we were returning”.

Another witness, Neima al-Aaraj, from Khan Younis, described the shooting as “indiscriminate”.

“I won’t return,” she said. “Either way, we will die.”

The Israeli military, in its statement on Telegram, said troops had fired warning shots as people deviated from “designated access routes” and “after the suspects failed to retreat, additional shots were directed near a few individual suspects who advanced toward the troops”.

However, it denied firing on civilians or blocking them from accessing aid.

This account echoes statements around similar incidents on Sunday, when 31 aid seekers were reportedly killed, and on Monday, when three more were killed.

Shati refugee camp, Gaza – Inside a stifling tent in Shati, one of Gaza’s overcrowded displacement camps, 30-year-old Raneem Abu Al-Eish cares for her sisters, Aseel, 51, and Afaf, 33.

They sit close to Raneem, laughing at times and at others growing agitated when the cries of children playing outside get too loud.

Aseel and Afaf suffer from celiac disease and intellectual disabilities that impair their speech, understanding, and behaviour – conditions that have only deepened under the strain of war and displacement.

They struggle to express themselves, often overwhelmed by their environment, Raneem explains. While she doesn’t know the medical term for their condition, the symptoms at times mirror Tourette syndrome.

‘People laugh, it devastates them’

The cramped tent shelters seven family members: Raneem, her two sisters, their elderly parents, and another sister with her husband.

Raneem’s mother is frail, and her father is still recovering from an injury sustained in Israel’s relentless war on Gaza, leaving Raneem to shoulder their care alone.

The family used to live in Jabalia camp’s Block 2, until Israel destroyed their home eight months ago. Since then, they have moved from relatives’ homes to makeshift shelters, then to an overcrowded United Nations school.

Now they are in this tent, which traps sweltering heat by midday and lets the bitter cold seep through its thin walls in the night.

Privacy and dignity are nearly impossible in the crowded tent. “When they need to change, we try to get the others to step out,” Raneem says. “But it’s not always possible.”

Yet that is only part of the ordeal for Aseel and Afaf, who are bullied daily due to their conditions.

“People don’t understand what my sisters go through,” Raneem says softly. “They judge by appearances, assuming they’re fine. But they aren’t. They need care, patience, dignity.”

Life in the camp overwhelms Aseel. “She finds it hard to cope with noise or sudden changes,” Raneem explains. “When that happens, she gets distressed – she shouts, cries, sometimes lashes out.”

Afaf, meanwhile, struggles with involuntary movements and impulsive behaviours. “A small argument or loud voice can trigger her,” Raneem adds.

“She doesn’t know how to control it,” she says, which makes it all the more sad that Afaf is frequently targeted for mockery, especially by children.

Using communal bathrooms brings repeated humiliation. “Every bathroom visit becomes a spectacle. People laugh, make cruel remarks, and it devastates them,” Raneem says.

Israel took their protector

The family’s greatest blow came six months ago, when Mohammad, Raneem’s 22-year-old brother, was taken by Israel.

Mohammad had gone to Kamal Adwan Hospital for surgery after a hand injury. While he was there, Israel raided the hospital on October 25 and seized Mohammad. Since then, the family knows nothing about his whereabouts.

Mohammad was the sibling most adept at navigating the outside world. “He got their medicines, managed hospital visits, dealt with aid agencies,” Raneem explains. “Without him, we’re completely alone.”

Since his detention, the sisters face worsening food shortages and a lack of medical care. “He was their protector,” Raneem says, her voice breaking. “Now we have no one.”

Between March and May, intensified bombing again displaced 436,000 Palestinians, many for the second, third or fourth time since the October 2023 beginning of the war. For families like Raneem’s – already in tents or shelters – each new wave of violence means starting over again, often without food or medicine.

For Aseel and Afaf, even basic nutrition is rife with threats. Celiac sufferers cannot eat gluten, which damages their small intestines.

In a starving Gaza where there is little to eat other than wheat-flour bread, which contains gluten, there is little chance that Raneem can find vegetables or meat for the sisters, especially with Mohammad detained.

Without gluten-free flour, Aseel and Afaf risk severe malnutrition, and they have gotten a dismally small amount of the 80 tonnes of gluten-free flour that aid agencies have thus far delivered to Gaza.

Much of it was blocked by closed borders, damaged roads, and broken distribution systems. “The little that reaches us is too expensive or too late,” Raneem says.

Begging for empathy, again and again

Before the war, Aseel and Afaf had routine medical care at Kamal Adwan Hospital.

Their conditions required special diets, medication, and regular therapy, needs now nearly impossible to meet.

Psychological specialist Dr Sara al-Wahidi says the war has sharply worsened the marginalisation of people with disabilities in Gaza.

“We’ve seen people with disabilities become separated from [their families in] displacement areas – some missing for long periods, sadly later found deceased,” she explains.

A 2025 report estimates that at least 15 percent of Gaza’s displaced population lives with a disability, and they have to navigate the makeshift shelters, whether in encampments, schools, or hospitals, that lack functioning ramps, adapted toilets and basic accessibility.

Raneem also battles social stigma, and despite her efforts – talking with neighbours, seeking support from community elders – ignorance persists.

“People provoke them, mock them. All we ask is understanding,” she says.

Some elders occasionally invite the sisters to their tents for a visit, brief moments of respite in a daily reality where they have no consistent medical or social support.

“We’ve been displaced again and again, from Jabalia to the west, then Gaza City,” Raneem recounts. “Every new place, we have to start over, explaining their condition, begging for patience.

“These aren’t just war victims,” she pleads.

“They’re vulnerable people forgotten by the world.”