NABLUS, West Bank — It was supposed to be the happiest day of Raghed al-Shami's life. She was about to give birth to a baby boy. But instead of having her husband beside her for the arrival of their first child, Shami found herself kneeling over her husband's lifeless body for a last goodbye before being taken to the maternity ward. Nayef Samaro had been on his way to meet her at the hospital when he was shot dead by an Israeli soldier.
Samaro, 25, was killed during an Israeli military raid on May 3 on a busy shopping thoroughfare in Nablus. He is one of the 1,103 Palestinians, including 241 children, in the occupied West Bank that the United Nations says have been killed by Israeli settlers or security forces since the Hamas-led attack on Israel from Gaza on Oct. 7, 2023. It's part of an unprecedented increase in Israeli military operations and attacks in the West Bank for which the perpetrators are almost never prosecuted.
"We have seen that impunity is a given," Ajith Sunghay, head of the U.N. Human Rights Office for the Occupied Palestinian Territory, told NPR. "There is no accountability for violence by Israeli settlers or by the Israeli military."
Samaro's family says on the day of the Israeli military raid on Nablus' old city, he was working at a restaurant and was shot as he left to go to the hospital where his wife would later give birth to their child.
Speaking with NPR from her bed in her mother's home in Nablus, where she was recovering from a cesarean section, Shami says the family is not focused on seeking to prosecute those responsible for Samaro's death through the Israeli courts because, she says, justice feels so out of reach.
"Everyone knows we are living under occupation," Shami, 21, says. "I wish that justice could be done. My son is going to grow up without a father."
All over the occupied West Bank, bereaved Palestinian families are being left to bear the consequences of this increased violence, says Fathia al-Shami, the mother of Samaro's grieving widow. She points to the newborn baby, Yaman, who lies snuggled next to Shami wrapped in a blue blanket — just 10 days old.
"What did he do to deserve this? He needs a father's attention. He needs the care. There are so many like him."
Beside Shami's bed stands a large portrait of Samaro and Shami. Handsome with thick dark hair and strong biceps, he sits with an arm wrapped around Shami. The young couple had just moved into a new home together. Samaro had found work at a local restaurant known for its shawarma, or sliced meat, and was excited for the arrival of his first child.
"He was coming home with new things for the baby," Fathia says, speaking for Shami, who was weak from the birth and shock. "He'd bought toys, clothes and a beautiful cot."
The pregnancy went well, but the baby was large, so doctors told Shami they wanted to induce her on Sunday, May 3. That day Samaro went to work before they were due at the hospital.
As the Israeli raid on downtown Nablus began, Fathia says security footage from the restaurant where he worked shows him closing the restaurant and trying to leave. She says he walked down one street but was met with a cloud of tear gas. So he turned back toward a tunnel for cover and was hit by a bullet to the back of his head.
Fathia was at work at the Nablus City Council and heard the gunfire. Then colleagues pulled up a video from the scene of the raid that showed a man lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Fathia started to scream: It was her son-in-law, Samaro. The family converged on the hospital where Samaro and his wife planned to go later that day. Samaro's body arrived there in an ambulance, lifeless.
Shami, overwhelmed with grief, was taken to the maternity ward to be monitored, with doctors worried about her and the baby. Per Muslim custom, Samaro needed to be laid to rest quickly, and in a few short hours his body was being taken to be buried. So, held by her mother and sisters, Shami walked down the hospital hallway to say goodbye to her husband.
"She talked to him and told him she would take care of their son," Fathia says. "She told him: 'I'll raise him to be proud of you and to know you.'"
The following day, baby Yaman was born.
The Israeli military told NPR that during an operation in Nablus, Palestinians had thrown rocks at the soldiers who responded with what the military called crowd-dispersal measures and later with live fire.
Since October Oct. 7, 2023, Israeli forces have carried out repeated raids into Nablus for what the military calls counterterrorism operations, but which have also led to the deaths of many civilians. Settlers have also made incursions into the Palestinian city. (On the day NPR visited in May, Israel's ultranationalist finance minister, Bezalel Smotrich, led thousands of settlers into Nablus to a shrine many Israelis believe is the tomb of the Prophet Joseph, revered in both Judaism and Islam. Under heavy guard from the Israeli military, Smotrich said the settlers' presence in Nablus "in broad daylight" was evidence that "the people of Israel are returning home to all parts of their land.")
Fathia al-Shami says in Nablus, teenage boys do sometimes throw rocks at soldiers. But she says her son-in-law, Samaro, had nothing to do with that.
"He was older — a [soon-to-be] father, trying to build a home and a life. He was on his way to the hospital for the birth of his child. Why would he throw himself into a catastrophe like that?"
The Israeli military did not answer NPR's request for information about the killing of Samaro specifically and whether an inquiry was being opened. Complaints against Israeli soldiers in the occupied West Bank go to the Israeli military's own prosecution service — the Military Advocate General — which decides whether to open an investigation, and whether any soldier should be charged.
Yesh Din, an Israeli human rights group that tracks the investigation process, says the prosecution rate for killings of Palestinians is less than half of 1%. The group has not documented a single conviction of an Israeli soldier for killing a Palestinian in the West Bank since the war in Gaza began.
Ghassan Daghlas, the governor of Nablus, calls it "killing for free."
He says the military has become partners in settler attacks — aiding and protecting the settlers that have forced thousands of Palestinians from their homes and taken their land. And Israeli military courts, Daghlas says, are not independent.
"How can there be justice for a grain of wheat in a court whose judges are chickens?" he asks.
The Israeli military did not answer NPR's request for a response to the claims that there is no accountability for violence committed against Palestinians in the occupied West Bank.
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