When the web goes dark, truth goes with it

Akkad says that because traditional media picks and chooses what they want to show their audience, losing journalists on the ground means missing bits of the truth. “When people are silenced and censored, and they don’t have a space to speak or a platform to express what’s happening, and for us to see what’s happening through their eyes, there will always be restrictions.” [on] “How much do we know,” she says.

In every crisis, when communication breaks down, accountability is lost and injustice becomes easier to ignore. “The injustice is very loud,” Akkad says. “Justice must be louder.”

Targeted

Journalists are also constantly silenced. Reporters Without Borders wrote in December 2025 that 67 media professionals were killed that year, 43 percent of whom were killed in Gaza by Israeli armed forces. The total number of journalists killed in Gaza since October 7, 2023 has risen to more than 220, according to Reporters Without Borders. United Nations estimates indicate more than 260.

Dagher says: “When we look at it in the context of imposing a ban on foreign press entry into Gaza now, more than two years after that war, when they restrict the freedom of movement of journalists in and out of Gaza, and when we talk about an unprecedented massacre against journalists, then targeting media offices and targeting communications infrastructure becomes just another piece of this puzzle that aims to impose a media blackout.” Israel has repeatedly denied allegations that it targets journalists or media infrastructure.

Akkad says: “Killing journalists means killing and silencing the truth.” In her experience, this strategy works on multiple levels – killing journalists means fewer people to report on the ground, but at the same time it turns journalists into a threat to people. “It also sends a message to people that all journalists are a threat, don’t talk to journalists, stay away from journalists,” she explains.

She remembers her mother begging her not to wear the press jacket and helmet. It was meant to signal neutrality and protect journalists in the field, but it made her feel like a target. “It is supposed to protect you, but on the contrary, it actually puts your life at risk and even that of your loved ones and those around you,” she explains.

Akkad says it wasn’t always this way. Early on, people would greet journalists, offer them food, and thank them for their work. “After a few months, when they saw journalists being targeted, Palestinians started treating journalists differently,” she says.

Working in Gaza means working within a landscape where time itself is unstable and uncertain. Plans rarely extend beyond daylight. The talks ended suddenly. Headlines became memorials overnight. “The only thing that is certain in Gaza is uncertainty,” says Akkad.

She remembers interviewing families and planning to return the next day, only to find that the people she spoke to had been killed in airstrikes.

She has since left Gaza and is pursuing a master’s degree in media studies at the American University of Beirut. She received the Shireen Abu Okla Memorial Scholarship, named after the Palestinian journalist killed by Israeli forces in May 2022.

Digital facts

Her reach on social media helped her reach people, but it also put her in danger. “It showed millions of people around the world what is happening in Gaza, but at what cost? Being in Gaza could cost you your life, especially as a journalist,” she says.

Despite the prevalence of digital reporting, there is little confidence in its sustainability. Accounts disappear, posts are removed, and videos are lost. What is available today may disappear tomorrow.