The Witness They Couldn’t Silence
A Tribute to Saleh al‑Jaafrawi — Gaza’s Lens, Gaza’s Voice, Gaza’s Martyr
He did not carry a weapon.
He carried a camera.
He did not fire bullets.
He fired questions.
He did not wear armour.
He wore the word “PRESS” — bold, defiant, unafraid.
Saleh al‑Jaafrawi, 27, was not just a journalist.
He was the voice of Gaza’s rubble,
the echo of shattered homes,
the heartbeat behind every breaking headline.
They killed him —
not in the roar of tanks,
but in the hush of a so-called ceasefire.
A bullet, not from a foreign invader this time,
but from a puppet hand,
funded, armed, and protected
by those who fear the truth more than resistance.
But you cannot kill a witness by killing the body.
You cannot silence memory with a muzzle flash.
And you cannot stop the story
when the one who lived it
gave it to the world
with every breath, every live feed, every trembling voice.
Saleh’s last words weren’t an obituary.
They were a will —
to carry his camera forward,
to protect the truth like a sacred trust,
to keep Gaza in our lens
even when the smoke clears
and the hashtags fade.
They have killed over 235 journalists
since October 7 —
each one a library burned,
each one a name buried beneath the silence.
But Saleh…
He will not be buried in silence.
He is written into the conscience of the free.
His footage lives.
His courage echoes.
His name is now carved into the wall
of every newsroom that still dares to tell the truth.
He was Gaza’s eye when the world closed its own.
And now he is Gaza’s martyr —
not just of war,
but of truth.
So let the killers hide behind proxies.
Let the cowards celebrate in shadows.
Let the regimes try to erase.
Because those who saw Saleh’s lens —
saw God’s light shining through the smoke.
And that cannot be un-witnessed.
May the pen of every writer shake with responsibility.
May the eye behind every camera weep with purpose.
And may the martyr’s voice never go silent.
Rest in power, Saleh.
We see Gaza because you taught us how.