SITTING in his Scenic Rim home with the sun shining, the birds singing and the sound of children playing, Charles Boyle, is a world away from war torn Gaza.
But a mutual passion for cycling and the gym forged a deep friendship between him and 27-year-old Gazan, Hassan Munifi.
Charles initially struck up a friendship with Hassan’s cousin, Basel Monifi on the Facebook page Road Bike Cycling before getting a friend request from Hassan in 2022.
Hassan was a young man who shared photos of himself and his mates on their road bikes riding through the beautiful streets of Gaza or working out at the gym. His Facebook page said: ‘My heart is in the gym and my legs are never off my bike.’
Their friendship became strong, and Charles couldn’t help but become invested in Hassan’s wellbeing as the war ravaged his home.
The pair would chat over video calls and send messages and photos several times a week, sharing everything to do with their love of cycling and health and fitness.
“I felt as if we’d met and I felt really close to him as a friend. I had spinal surgery in May and I got a video call from him while I was in hospital from his shelter. This guy is dodging bombs, and his first concern was how I was.
Even before October 7, 2023 when Hamas stormed into southern Israel killing 1200 Israelis, Charles discovered how tough life was for Hassan and his family.
“I was always aware of what he was living under – the restrictions,” he said.
“He was on the cycling Facebook group Gaza Cyclists, (which Charles also joined) and he’d talk about having to go through check points and being occupied and not be able to compete overseas or travel and their limited resources.
“I found it interesting to see how someone got over those hurdles, living a restricted life.
“Never once did he complain about it. His whole attitude was to better himself and he always sought to improve on his fitness and was always positive and looking forward.”
Charles said Hassan’s mother was killed in 2014 in a bomb attack that left him laid up in hospital for six months with shrapnel injuries.
He was living with his father, brother and other relatives in Gaza and had worked as an elementary school teacher, but later worked in a chicken factory, training at the gym regularly and learning Spanish, hoping one day to move to Spain.
In 2024 Charles supported him through the grief of losing his father, who died of a heart attack in hospital after an Israeli attack.
As the war continued to ravage Gaza, life for Hassan became a daily fight to survive. Over a year ago his house was bombed. No longer did he share photos of himself in his cycling kit on the stairs, instead the Israeli Defence Forces took photos of themselves standing on his steps holding guns.
Hassan moved to his uncle’s and then to a shelter where people had set up camp, living in a tarpaulin with a gas stove to cook what little food they had.
Even under such dire circumstances and unable to ride his beloved bike or go to the gym, Hassan continued to learn Spanish.
“He had incredible resilience,” Charles recalled.
“I remember speaking to him once and there were horrific high-pitched sounds which the Israeli’s broadcast day after day.
“In all that background you’d think he’d have a bit of bitterness, but that’s what drew me to him, he was such a caring, humane person and not bitter at all,” Charles shared.
“He was positive one day and pessimistic the next but primarily had hope and never once said he hated anyone or wanted retribution or revenge, he just wanted peace.
“He wanted a better world, to live side by side with Jews and Christians.
“We always said we’d meet and one day. I’d cycle in Palestine, and he’d cycle in Australia.”
As food became more and more scarce, Charles was forced to watch his dear friend succumb to hunger.
“He said he couldn’t fish because the Israeli’s were shooting at them,” Charles said.
“During the conflict he did his best to keep fit, but he lost 20kg in eight weeks because he didn’t have food.
“He hadn’t eaten in days but gave his nephew his meal.
“I was trying to keep his spirits up. We’d chat and joke and I’d send him jokes, but as soon we’d put the phone down it was back to reality (for Hassan).
On July 17 Charles received a text from Hassan’s brother, who’d managed to get to Belgium. It was the news he’d dreaded but always feared was inevitable. Hassan, along with his other brother, Mahdi Munifi, had been killed in an attack.
“It was just awful,” Charles said, barely able to express his grief.
“I just broke down. I was shocked at first. Jenny (my wife) just lost it when I told her.
“Although you don’t physically meet people, with the technology you feel you have.
“I wasn’t surprised, I felt this day was coming.”
Now Charles fears for the life of Hassan’s cousin, Basel.
“He’s a photographer and does his youth work, he’s a cyclist with hopes and dreams. I don’t know how they survive, how they carry on,” Charles questioned.
“With Hassan, because the situation he lived in was so different to mine and I have all these privileges and freedoms that he doesn’t have, it was a very special friendship.”
“I did consider him a very close friend and that’s why it was utterly devastating when I found out he was killed.
“Every day I wanted to see how he was going. I’d send him a picture in the gym with my Palestine t-shirt on, which he thought was amazing.”
Charles hopes that by sharing their unique and special friendship he can honour Hassan, and his life won’t have been in vain.
“I want everyone to know about Hassan. To know they aren’t just numbers, they are people, good honest people. I want people to have some anger about the way human beings are being treated and question how they would feel if it was their family going through this starvation and impending death.
“I’m so sad; sad, I don’t have that connection now. I felt a sense of satisfaction I made his life a bit happier when I was speaking to him.”
