In the midst of a still shaky ceasefire, Gazans are taking the first tentative steps along the long road to recovery.

Bulldozers are clearing roads, shoveling the detritus of war into waiting trucks. Mountains of rubble and twisted metal are on either side, the remains of once bustling neighborhoods.

Parts of Gaza City are disfigured beyond recognition.

This was my house, says Abu Iyad Hamdouna. He points to a mangled heap of concrete and steel in Sheikh Radwan, which was once one of Gaza City's most densely populated neighborhoods.

It was here. But there's no house left.

Abu Iyad is 63. If Gaza ever rises from the ashes, he doesn't expect to be around to see it.

At this rate, I think it'll take 10 years. He looks exhausted and resigned. We'll be dead... we'll die without seeing reconstruction.

Nearby, 43-year-old Nihad al-Madhoun and his nephew Said are picking through the wreckage of what was once a home. The building might well collapse but it doesn't deter them - they collect old breeze blocks and brush thick dust off an old red sofa.

The removal of rubble alone might take more than five years, he says. And we will wait. We have no other option.

The sheer scale of the challenge is staggering. The UN estimates the cost of damage at £53bn ($70bn). Almost 300,000 houses and apartments have been damaged or destroyed, according to the UN's satellite centre Unosat.

The Gaza Strip is littered with 60 million tonnes of rubble, mixed in with dangerous unexploded bombs and dead bodies.

In all, more than 68,000 people have been killed in Gaza in the past two years, according to the territory's Hamas-run health ministry. Its figures are accepted by the United Nations and other international bodies.

In the midst of such destruction, it's hard to know where to begin. There's no shortage of ideas - including grand designs conceived by those with money and power in faraway capitals. The US President Donald Trump had his say too.

But Gazans we spoke to are skeptical of schemes drawn up abroad, and they have visions of their own. So the fight is on to shape Gaza's future. The question is, who will prevail?

Yahya al-Sarraj, Gaza City's Hamas-appointed mayor, is out on the streets wearing a hi-vis jacket and surveying the ruins. Already, shops and restaurants are starting to reopen, he points out. Of course it's very modest, he says, but they want to live, and they deserve to live. Gaza is no stranger to these destructions, he adds, recalling several conflicts prior to the cataclysm that erupted, following the devastating attack that Hamas launched on Israel on 7 October 2023.

We heard about a lot of plans, international, local, regional plans. [But] we have our own plan. We call it the Phoenix of Gaza. This was the first home-grown Palestinian plan to emerge during the war - in a computer-generated video that accompanied it, shattered communities are seen transformed, as if by magic, into modern neighborhoods.

But the creators of the Phoenix plan know that its fate is out of their hands, as competing interests, in the Middle East and beyond, jostle for control of Gaza's future.

In contrast, Trump's Gaza Riviera is a controversial proposal that includes economic development plans emphasizing a prosperous future. His vision was met with skepticism, as many in Gaza question plans that seem disconnected from the ground realities.

As reconstruction urgency mounts, effective dialogue and cooperation among local residents and international stakeholders will be essential for concerned parties. Meanwhile, Gazans like Abu Iyad continue to make makeshift shelters while waiting for real solutions to emerge.