On the fifth floor, where the smell of disinfectants overwhelms everything else, Farida Mohammad sits in front of a small phone screen, following a choppy online school lesson while waiting for her turn in yet another treatment session inside Baghdad’s Medical City. Between virtual classes and painkiller injections, the Palestinian student from Gaza is trying to hold on to what remains of a normal life, even if only through delayed notifications arriving on educational apps.

Farida is effectively living inside the Medical City complex, unable to leave or move freely outside it after Iraqi authorities confiscated her identification documents, turning the hospital into a space of forced confinement.

Since arriving in Iraq from Egypt in early May 2024 to receive medical treatment, Farida has no longer known how to separate being a war survivor from being a student terrified of losing her academic future. Her days are divided between treatment sessions and doctors’ appointments, and brief moments of rest she tries to use to open her phone and follow classes remotely. She says it requires double the effort, as the pain and physical exhaustion sometimes make it impossible to concentrate, yet the idea of giving up on her studies feels to her like a defeat even greater than the injury itself. 

Inside the hospital, there is no such thing as the “right time to study.” The noise never stops, patients constantly come and go, and the sounds of medical equipment fill the corridors day and night. Yet the greatest source of anxiety in Farida’s daily life remains her family in Gaza.

She tries to stay connected to her school through online platforms, emails, and WhatsApp groups, while the school has offered some accommodations, including postponing certain exams and extending assignment deadlines. But war, she says, gives no one a real chance to focus, especially with unstable internet access at times, alongside the effects of medication and the pain caused by her injuries, all of which have taken a toll on her ability to concentrate.

Farida says the war and her injury left her deeply traumatized, affecting both her mental stability and her ability to focus, while filling her with fear for her academic future. Yet she continues to cling to her education, describing it as “a weapon of resilience and hope for a better tomorrow.” She draws strength from the support of medical staff and the people she has met in Iraq, who have helped lift her spirits throughout her long treatment journey. 

In another room in the building, Samira Sami speaks of a feeling that resembles forced confinement more than a medical journey. The Gazan woman, who arrived in Iraq nearly two years ago and completed her treatment months ago, says their lives have come to a complete standstill in Baghdad. They are unable to return home, yet they also lack both the legal status and financial means to begin a new life elsewhere. 

Samira says more than four months have passed without them receiving any financial assistance, forcing them to cover the cost of medication and food out of their own pockets, despite having neither jobs nor identification documents that would allow them to move freely.

According to her, the Palestinian embassy issued them unstamped passports, while their other official documents remain confiscated by the Iraqi Ministry of Interior, leaving them trapped between the status of “guests” and the reality of being unable to move freely.

Samira does not speak about food as an ordinary daily concern, but as a symbol of losing control over the most basic human rights. She says they no longer ask for much beyond being allowed to choose what they eat, having access to the medication they need, and feeling that their existence is still visible to someone.

“We even have to pay for the internet ourselves now, just so we can check on our families in Gaza,” she adds.

Samira explains that Iraq was completely different when they first arrived. She recalls the warm welcome they received from Iraqis and humanitarian organizations, and how assistance was readily available at the time. But after the first year, she says, everything gradually began to fade.

“We started feeling as though our existence no longer made any difference,” she says, before adding that two people from their group died during the long period of waiting.

Waddah Al-Ghazzi, one of the wounded Palestinians, says the entire crisis can be summed up at “the Egyptian gate.” He explains that the crossing in Egypt allows only 50 people per day to enter Gaza, while around 75,000 patients are still waiting to cross. Under the current system, he says, it would take nearly 70 years for all patients to make it through.

In his view, the crisis is no longer merely medical, but has become deeply political and administratively complex. He adds that the Egyptian side has reportedly instructed Iraqi authorities not to facilitate procedures, amid mounting pressure inside Egypt due to the large number of Palestinian patients.

Waddah points out that 46 patients and companions remain stranded in Baghdad, including around 20 patients who require continuous medical follow-up. He explains that Medical City has provided the treatments related to injuries and surgeries without negligence, but the real problem emerged with chronic illnesses and the medications patients need on a daily basis, such as treatments for diabetes and high blood pressure.

He says Iraqi donors initially helped provide some of these medications, but that support later stopped, leaving patients struggling to meet basic daily medical needs they can no longer afford.

Following the announcement of the reopening of the Rafah crossing in early February 2026, around 150 wounded people per day were expected to be allowed out alongside two accompanying relatives each, in exchange for the entry of roughly 50 people into Gaza. In reality, however, the numbers on the ground often remained far lower, with some days seeing no more than 15 people leaving the strip.

According to Gaza’s Ministry of Health, more than 20,000 patients and wounded individuals are still waiting for a chance to travel abroad for treatment, including critical cases involving cancer patients, heart disease, and kidney failure, as well as severe injuries requiring advanced surgical interventions unavailable inside Gaza. 

Within this humanitarian and administrative limbo, another, more complex crisis emerges: the legal status of these Palestinians. Lawyer Abdel Baset Al-Hashemi describes what is happening as an “undeclared detention” of wounded and sick Palestinians who entered Iraq through an official government decision for medical treatment, not for any security or judicial reason. 

Al-Hashemi says that the wounded and sick Palestinians, along with their companions, were brought to the Dar Al-Tamreed Hospital within Baghdad’s Medical City as part of an official initiative. However, once many of them recovered, an administrative and legal crisis began to emerge, marked by the confiscation of their passports and identification documents, and restrictions preventing them from leaving the medical complex except through complicated security approvals or by signing liability waivers. 

According to Al-Hashemi, these measures constitute a clear violation of Iraq’s 2005 Constitution, particularly Articles 15 and 37(First-A), which guarantee personal liberty and freedom of movement for every individual lawfully present on Iraqi territory. He also points out that the Foreign Residency Law No. 118 of 1978 does not grant any authority, except the Residency Directorate of the Ministry of Interior, the power to confiscate foreigners’ passports or official documents. 

He adds that what is taking place could also constitute a violation of Iraq’s Penal Code No. 111 of 1969, specifically Article 322 concerning crimes against personal freedom, which penalizes any public employee or person entrusted with a public service who unlawfully detains or restricts an individual’s freedom outside legal frameworks. 

Al-Hashemi stresses that these patients “entered Iraq as guests for medical treatment, not as detainees or individuals accused of any crime.” He argues that the continued confiscation of their documents and restrictions on their movement prevent them from regularizing their legal status, renting housing, or moving freely within Baghdad, leaving them trapped in an extremely complex legal and humanitarian situation. 

The suffering of the wounded Palestinians stranded in Baghdad also opens a broader conversation about the state of Iraq’s own healthcare sector, which has been grappling with years of accumulated crises, despite continuing to receive patients and wounded individuals from outside the country through various medical initiatives. 

While dozens of Palestinians inside Medical City struggle to complete their treatment amid complaints over medication, accommodation, and ongoing care, international indicators reveal the scale of the challenges facing Iraq’s healthcare system in the capital itself. 

According to Numbeo, the global platform specializing in quality-of-life and public service indicators, Baghdad ranked last worldwide in the 2025 Healthcare Index, placing 309th in a ranking that reflects the severe deterioration facing the healthcare sector in terms of services, infrastructure, and quality of care. 

This reality highlights the scale of the challenges facing healthcare institutions in Baghdad in dealing with the reception and treatment of wounded patients from outside Iraq, at a time when public hospitals are already struggling under heavy pressure, shortages in certain medications and essential services, and the administrative and financial burdens faced by Iraqi patients themselves within the state healthcare system. 

While preparing this report, we contacted the Iraqi Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Interior to inquire about the situation of the wounded and sick Palestinians stranded in Baghdad, and to obtain details regarding their medical condition, treatment, and the procedures being taken in their cases. However, neither ministry responded.

All patient names mentioned in this report are pseudonyms used at the request of the individuals concerned in order to protect their privacy.