From a reliable LinkedIn contact. Israel’s cruelty is beyond comprehension, all in the name of racism, hatred, and the last stage of Zionism in the regional land grab known as the Greater Israel project.

As the English teacher at Gaza’s Holy Family Catholic school, Ghada Rabah touched countless lives and created opportunities for her Palestinian students. Israel killed her and her brother this week – burying them under the rubble of their home.

Israel killed Ghada’s brother when it bombed her home on Monday, but she remained alive under the rubble for 2 days. Ghada managed to call relatives, asking to be rescued. For hours, Israeli soldiers blocked rescue teams from reaching her. Then, Israel bombed the home again, killing her.

“[Ghada]was a true human being before being a teacher, a symbol of elegance, a source of beauty, a beacon of literature, and a cradle of knowledge.
Today, I mourn you, my teacher. In fact, I mourn myself in you. How much I loved you, your kindness, your smile, and your generosity. You were a light in everything. With your loss, we have lost so much.”
~ a former student of Ghada’s

Here’s a LinkedIn post from Hanan Habashi, one of Ghada’s friends:

The ELT community in Palestine lost far more than a teacher when Israel killed our dear colleague Ghada Rabah. We lost a voice of integrity, a mentor, and a lifelong learner who held space for so many of us to grow.

Ghada represented the very best of our profession. She believed that language teaching was not merely about instruction, but about connection, transformation, and liberation. She pushed herself and those around her to think more deeply, reflect more honestly, and teach with greater purpose.

Her commitment to professional development was never performative. It was lived daily, in the way she prepared, supported, and inspired.

To me, she was more than a colleague. She was a dear friend and my compass through the many unspoken codes of our institutions. Her presence was a quiet strength. Her absence is a devastating loss.

Her murder isn’t just a personal grief. It is a rupture in a fragile yet resilient educational fabric in Gaza, one held together by teachers like Ghada who fought to keep learning under impossible conditions.

We have lost an asset.

May we honor her memory, not only by mourning her, but by living what she preached and practiced. May we always carry her humility, rigor, generosity, and the quiet, revolutionary act of teaching with love.