The call first sounded like a scam.

A man claiming to represent a humanitarian organisation offered to fly Ahmed Shehada, his wife, and their two young children out of war-torn Gaza if he paid $1,600 (€1,400) per person into a crypto account. He demanded the money upfront.

Shehada, 37, a doctor, refused at first. But when a friend successfully escaped Gaza through the same group, he reconsidered. That decision put him and his family on a tense 24-hour journey involving two bus convoys, multiple Israeli checkpoints, and a flight to an unknown destination ultimately landing in South Africa, a country he had never visited.

“The situation in Gaza is so dreadful, you would take such a risk,” Shehada said.

He is one of hundreds of Palestinians who have recently arrived in South Africa on two chartered flights organised by Al-Majd Europe, a group with little public information available. South African officials say they knew almost nothing about the organisation before the flights began.

Suspicion and Political Tension

South Africa’s foreign minister, Ronald Lamola, suggested on Monday that Israel may be behind the operation, accusing it of pursuing “a clear agenda to cleanse the Palestinians out of Gaza and the West Bank.” Israel denies the allegation.

President Cyril Ramaphosa echoed concerns, saying it appeared the passengers were being “flushed out,” but stressed that South Africa had a responsibility to welcome Palestinians, calling them “a different and special case of a people that we have supported as a country.”

The Israeli military acknowledged it had coordinated with a third country to send the Palestinian families there, though it declined to name the nation.

The controversy comes at a delicate moment for South Africa as it prepares to host the first G20 summit ever held on African soil.

Chaos at the Airport

The South African government has faced domestic criticism over its handling of the arrivals. Activists said the second flight, carrying 153 Palestinians, was mishandled when passengers were kept on the aircraft for more than 10 hours while immigration authorities processed their status.

“The border authorities were unwilling to consider the factors that these people came from Gaza, that there’s a humanitarian crisis,” said Na’eem Jeenah, a South African activist assisting arriving families. “They were looking at it very narrowly.”

By contrast, Shehada’s flight on October 28th was processed normally, with passengers allowed to disembark and go through immigration like any other international arrival.

A Secretive Journey Out of Gaza

Shehada, who has worked for a UN agency since 2014, said he contacted Al-Majd in March after receiving its website via WhatsApp. Months later, he paid $6,400 for his family’s escape. Late on October 26th, he received a call instructing him to reach Khan Younis within four hours.

From there, the journey took a surreal and risky turn:

• Passengers boarded buses with blinds closed and phones switched off.
• Al-Majd instructed them to tell anyone who asked that they were part of a French embassy evacuation.
• At the Kerem Shalom crossing, Israeli forces ordered them to leave all belongings behind.
• After several security checks, they were transported to Ramon Airport to board a charter flight.
• Mid-flight, they learned they were headed to Nairobi.
• From Kenya, they were transferred to South Africa.

Upon arrival, Al-Majd sent one final message stating that a guest house was booked for them — though only for a week, despite earlier promises of a month.

Al-Majd Europe posted a message on its website Monday claiming it continues to operate as normal while warning of online scams using its name. Calls and messages to the organisation went unanswered.

Another passenger, Luay Abu Saif, who arrived on last week’s flight, said travelers were never told their final destination.

Local South African charities have since stepped in to provide accommodation. The new arrivals are currently allowed to stay for 90 days under a visa exemption South Africa grants to Palestinians.

Life After War

For Shehada, the most striking change is watching his four-year-old daughter discover normal life after surviving only conflict.

She is amazed by simple things: walking into a store to buy food, switching on lights, or charging a mobile phone, luxuries she had only seen on YouTube.

“The other day she was telling me, ‘Dad, we are living like the YouTube life,’” he said.