A year on from October 7th, a Palestinian boy fends for his family

It’s been a year since October 7th, and its violence now rages in Gaza, Lebanon, Yemen, Syria, Iraq and the occupied West Bank.

It is in a carpentry shop in the village of Qarawa Bani Hassan, the central West Bank, that Noor Assi is at work packaging a wooden table. He tears off strips of tape, tying it to padded cardboard, before flipping the table on its side.

He says he is 15 “and a half,” years old, a measurement in age split between the innocence of youth and the weight of manhood.

The Israeli-occupied West Bank is the most violent it has been in decades. More than 600 Palestinians have been killed here since October 7th. Including Noor’s father.

“My childhood is gone,” Noor says.

On December 2nd, Israeli settlers raided Qarawa Bani Hassan. They shot Ahmad Assi, Noor's father, dead, according to residents and officials.

The Israeli military said they responded to a confrontation with riot control and live fire, adding that Assi’s death is under review.

Ahmad's mother shows me his bloodied clothes, a sweatshirt pierced by a single bullet. Noor’s five-year-old sister, Jenna, watches quietly, wearing a necklace with her father’s picture.

“When my father was martyred, I took over his work. I left school. I became responsible for the house,” Noor says.

He works full-time now, sometimes 13-hour days, providing for five siblings.

“I take care of them. They don’t want for anything.”

Noor looks young, with a shy demeanor and a youthful haircut—long on top, faded on the sides. He visits the local barbershop regularly, a place where people socialize, talk family, football, and politics. The village mayor, Ibrahim Assi, is a distant relative. He explains how the village is encircled by settlements and outposts.

“Settler violence is terrorizing us,” the mayor says. “The West Bank is a nightmare. They assault, kill, and steal from farmers on their own land.”

On December 2nd, settlers entered the village, burned cars, wounded one man, and shot Noor’s father. His body was found hours later in an olive grove.

Noor may have his boyish haircut, but his hands are those of a working man. His time with friends has disappeared, replaced by work and family duties. At home, he helps his mother cook. He sometimes envies other kids.

“I feel like playing, but I can’t. I have a family to take care of.”

Friday is the holiest day of the week. Noor prays at the village mosque, then visits his father’s grave, draped in a Palestinian flag. Prayer is his anchor.

“I speak to him every night after prayer,” Noor says. “Last time, he came to me in a dream and said, ‘Take care of your family.’”