A recent vigil in Australia saw humanitarians, human rights activists, and ordinary people brave inclement weather to remember the slaughtered children of Gaza
Dr Unni Krishnan
Canberra, 30 July 2025
Most moments in war are marked by suffering. But some are etched with such
cruelty that they leave a permanent scar on humanity.
During a humanitarian mission to Gaza, amid the rubble of a bombed school in
Gaza, 12-year-old Omsiyat—a bright, curious child—looked up at me and asked a
question that pierced through the smoke and sorrow: “Why are children made to
suffer in wars?” I had no answer.
Children never start wars. But they suffer its cruellest consequences.
In Gaza, war has rewritten the fate of children—brutally and irrevocably. Since
October 2023, an average of 27 children have been killed every day—a full school
bus of dreams extinguished. Depending on where you are in the world, you may
have just dropped your child off at the school bus, or perhaps you are walking them
home. Imagine a bus with 27 children on it—now imagine that entire bus never
returning and children in it ending up graveyard instead of being welcomed at home.
Every single day.
In 615 days, war killed over 17,000 children and thousands sustained life-altering
injuries Not one of them started this war. Yet they have paid the highest price. They
deserve more than survival. They deserve dignity and safety. A future where they
can fly kites, go to school, and hold their friends’ hand without fear.
VIGIL FOR CHILDREN
In the 24 hours between 22 and 23 rd July, outside the Australian Parliament House in
Canberra, a quiet but powerful vigil unfolded. For 24 hours, under harsh winter rain
and biting cold, humanitarians, human rights activists, and ordinary people stood
together—not to protest, but to remember. To honour the children of Gaza. To speak
their names. To bear witness.
Each speaker read names from a book that spans more than 400 pages. Page after
page, name after name. Infants marked as “0”—babies who never reached their first
birthday. On each page, 42 names – of children who were meant to be artists,
teachers, journalists, peacemakers. Futures stolen.
“We speak the names of Gaza’s children to keep our humanity alive. We stand not
just as humanitarians, but as fellow humans demanding action—because time is
running out, and silence is complicity,” said Susanne Legena, CEO of Plan
International Australia. The vigil in Canberra was organised jointly by human rights
groups and humanitarian agencies such as Amnesty International, Plan International, Oxfam, Save the Children, Child Fund, MAA International, ActionAid,
Doctors Without Borders/ Médecins Sans Frontières and Caritas.
As I stood at that podium—reading names, ages, lives abruptly ended—I felt the
unbearable weight of grief. Not just mine. But of mothers in Gaza forced to choose
which child to feed. Of doctors operating without anaesthetic. Of uncles and fathers
digging through rubble with their bare hands. Of young girls waiting weeks for clean
water, unable to bathe with dignity.
This war has not spared anyone. But it has punished Gaza’s children most. Bombs
are not the only killers. Hunger now stalks them. Starvation—a slow, deliberate
death—is being used as a weapon of war.
I have seen it in hospitals elsewhere in western capitals—medical teams evaluating
their performance every 24 hours. One of the saddest moments is reading the
names of children they couldn’t save. Yet they know they did everything possible,
applying the best care they could afford.
But reading the names of children during the vigil shook me to my core. Each name
belonged to a child in Gaza who was killed while the world stood by. The weight of
their loss—and the silence that allowed it—was too much to bear.
Let us be clear: this war has killed more than 58,000 people, many of them women
and children. Thousands are unaccounted for, most likely buried under rubbles. It
has erased homes, schools, hospitals—and an entire generation’s dreams.
LIFT THE SIEGE, LET CHILDREN LIVE
Aid to Gaza is being blocked. A complete siege by Israeli military has turned food
and medicine into bargaining chips. Imagine ordering your favourite meal in
Canberra, New York or London—delivered in 40 minutes. In Gaza, children starve
while relief trucks wait just 30 minutes away at the border. Hunger and starvation are
solvable problems. The aid blockade is not about logistics- we are witnessing the
militarisation of humanitarian aid, a dangerous precedent.
Lives are at stake.
Yesterday I read in the news that a six-week-old baby is among 15 people to have
died of starvation in Gaza in 24 hours. Gaza health ministry says 33 people died
from malnutrition in 48 hours.
Starvation unfolds in three painful stages. It begins with skipped meals—common in
war zones—followed by prolonged food deprivation when the body consumes stored
fat. In the final stage, with all reserves gone, the body breaks down muscle and
organs to survive, leading to death. Children grow too weak to walk, talk, or breathe.
Their immune systems collapse. This slow, preventable death is among the cruellest
horrors of war—one Gaza’s children are enduring right now.
SILENCE HAS BECOME COMPLICITY
But voices are rising.
This week, 28 countries, including Australia, France, Japan, and Denmark, have
called for an immediate end to the war and the lifting of aid restrictions. They have
condemned the “drip-feeding of aid” and the “inhumane killing” of civilians, including
children seeking water and food. I welcome these calls but what we need
desperately is concrete action. Starving children cannot wait another minute.
These countries are joining a long list of countries such as Ireland, South Africa,
Brazil and Spain who have been calling to stop the war for a long time. But more
countries must stand up and ensure we uphold International Humanitarian Law.
More countries must choose compassion and humanity over war and politics. More
leaders must be prepared to say: Not in our name. I hope it is not too late for the
starving children in Gaza.
A CALL TO STOP WAR AND TO SAVE GAZA AND ITS CHILDREN
The vigil was not about politics. It was about humanity. About standing beside
grieving families, honouring children reduced to rubble and memory, and refusing to
let the world forget.
The vigil was grounded in grief and solidarity– to mourn, to speak the names of
children whose laughter will never return. And to remind ourselves that silence is not
an option.
If you are asking what you can do—do not stay silent. Speak up. Bear witness.
Demand justice. A thousand actions are needed—but it begins here: Call for an end
to the war. Tell your government to stop sending weapons that are being used to
bomb hospitals, schools, and children. Call for the immediate release of all civilian
hostages held in Gaza and Palestinian children held as prisoners in Israel.Demand
an end to the siege on Gaza. Demand the flow of humanitarian aid. Speak out
against starvation being used as a weapon of war.
Stand with Gaza’s children. Now.
Every voice counts. Every silence enables. Because while our voices may not stop a
war, our silence will surely allow it to continue.
Every child killed in war casts a silent vote of no confidence in our humanity. Even in
war zones, children dare to hope. That alone should shame the world into action.
Let the names of Gaza’s children echo across every hall of power, every street,
every heart. Let them not be forgotten.
Let them live. Let them dream. Let Gaza’s children fly kites again.