Family mourns Palestinian killed by Israeli forces while trying to reach work

In the early hours of Monday, Sanad Hantouli left his hometown of Silat al-Dhahr, south of Jenin, with two cousins. Their goal: to reach Jerusalem in search of work.

But with Israeli checkpoints and military closures paralysing movement for Palestinians across the occupied West Bank, they were forced to take a dangerous route - scaling Israel’s separation wall.

Sanad’s cousin, Hantouli Hantouli, told Middle East Eye the group used a ladder left by other Palestinian labourers in an attempt to climb the 10-metre-high barrier. When Hantouli slipped trying to ascend, Sanad stepped in.

The 22-year-old successfully climbed the wall and used a rope to descend the other side. From there, he called up for the bags containing their clothes and belongings.

“I started throwing the bags down to him after I reached the top of the wall,” said Hantouli. “Then I heard gunfire.”

Seconds later, he heard Sanad scream.

“I knew he’d been hit. I heard several bullets, but I didn’t know how many had struck him,” said Hantouli.

Trying to see what had happened, Hantouli peered over the wall - and was immediately fired at by Israeli soldiers. He ducked behind the barrier. Each time he raised his head, more shots rang out.

Sanad lay on the ground, bleeding, for more than 30 minutes. Israeli forces prevented any medical attention. Residents who saw him from nearby buildings were unable to approach.

“I started screaming hysterically when I saw his blood pouring out. No one could reach him,” Hantouli said. “I begged people to help him, but the sniper fired at anyone who came near.”

الشهيد العامل بعد إطلاق النار عليه من قوات الاحتلال الإسرائيلي عند قرب جدار الفصل العنصري في بلدة الرام شمال القدس المحتلة

التفاصيل: https://t.co/hcrSCljo8Q pic.twitter.com/OHsP4Q3sgo

— موقع عرب 48 (@arab48website) September 15, 2025

Translation: The worker killed after being shot by Israeli occupation forces near the separation wall in the town of Al-Ram, north of occupied Jerusalem.

As the minutes dragged on, Sanad’s condition worsened. He began to lose consciousness. Hantouli remained frozen on top of the wall, while their third cousin, still on the other side, shouted up to ask what was happening.

Eventually, soldiers approached Sanad’s motionless body. Hantouli watched as they turned him over, checking for bullet wounds. He had been shot twice - once in the side, and once in the thigh.

“When they finally came over, I didn’t care any more what would happen to me. I stood up to look,” he said. “They put his body in a bag and took him away in an ambulance. That’s when I knew he was gone.”

Hantouli descended the wall and informed his cousin. “We both broke down crying.”

Targeted labourers 

Sanad’s killing is the latest in a series of Israeli shootings targeting unarmed Palestinians in the occupied West Bank, a stark reminder of the dangers people face simply to work, move and survive under military occupation.

According to the Palestinian General Federation of Trade Unions, nine Palestinian labourers have been killed by Israeli forces since the beginning of 2025, with dozens more wounded.

Since Israel launched the war on Gaza in October 2023, the crackdown on Palestinian labourers intensified. At least 38 labourers have been killed, while thousands have been barred from crossing into Israel. Others have been pursued, arrested or shot.

Before the genocide, Sanad held a permit to work inside Israel. But, like thousands of others, his permit was revoked after the start of the war, as Israeli authorities suspended all work permits for Palestinians, shut down crossings and imposed sweeping restrictions.

'He felt he had no choice but to work, even if it meant risking his life by crossing the wall'

- Yassin, Sanad Hantouli's cousin

The economic impact on Palestinian families was immediate and devastating.

With access cut off, many Palestinians have resorted to scaling the separation wall without permits. These attempts are often met with deadly force by Israeli soldiers.

According to the General Union of Palestinian Workers, only about 25,000 Palestinians currently hold valid permits to work inside Israel. 

Most are employed in Palestinian institutions in occupied East Jerusalem, such as Al-Makassed and Augusta Victoria hospitals, or in Israeli-run businesses such as hotels and factories. A smaller number work in settlements.

The number of Palestinians working without permits is estimated at between 25,000 and 30,000.

Before the latest restrictions, the total number of Palestinian labourers - both with and without permits - was around 250,000.

For Hantouli, the shooting of his cousin was deliberate. 

“They could have arrested him. But instead, they shot him and let him bleed. It was intentional,” he said.

“We are all targets,” he added. “We just want to work and build a life, but the occupation doesn’t want us to live. My cousin died in front of me, and I could do nothing. If I had stayed near him, they would have shot me too.”

‘This is our tragedy’

In Sanad’s hometown of Silat al-Dhahr, near Jenin, news of his killing sparked widespread grief and outrage.

The young man had left home early that morning hoping to earn money to support his struggling family of 11.

“He was planning to get engaged soon, but he wanted to improve his financial situation first,” his cousin Yassin, who gave only his first name, told MEE.

Sanad was the second eldest son in the family. His older brother, already married with children, could barely provide for his own household, leaving Sanad and his father to carry the financial burden for everyone else.

“They live in a small, old house. The family is large, mostly children. His youngest brother is only four,” Yassin said. 

“He felt he had no choice but to work, even if it meant risking his life by crossing the wall.”

Sanad’s earnings, according to his cousin, barely covered the family’s basic needs. But with unemployment soaring, he was determined to work by any means necessary.

“Here in the West Bank, work is almost nonexistent under these difficult circumstances,” Yassin added.

His death sent shockwaves through Silat al-Dhahr, where he was described as quiet, kind and determined. 

“He was always on the move, always active, he didn’t like sitting at home,” Yassin said. 

“He wanted to work. He tried. But this is our tragedy as Palestinians.”