There are children in Gaza who no longer fear bombs.

They fear hunger.

Because hunger doesn’t explode. It waits. It humiliates. It kills slowly, first the body, then the spirit. It turns proud fathers into beggars, mothers into scavengers, and childhood into a luxury no one can afford.

This is not a war story. This is a story about survival, about five families in Gaza who once lived ordinary lives and are now trapped in a reality so cruel, their dream is no longer freedom. Their dream is a piece of bread.

Once, Life Was Beautiful

Before the war, Nessreen’s day started like any mother’s. She packed schoolbags, kissed foreheads, taught geography to teens, and returned home to help her four children with homework. She had a job. A home. A husband who took the kids for sweets after school.

“I used to wash their clothes in a machine while they played,” she says. Now she washes their faces with tears.

Ameen, a young man with a degree in engineering and dreams of building a business, once spent his days working in digital marketing. “Evenings were for cards, PlayStation, and long talks with friends,” he recalls. “Now I wake up to help my mother light a fire just to cook lentils. My life is gone. Now it’s just survival.”

Ahmed had just graduated from university when the war began, the career he hoped for never started. Now, nearly two years later, his cat Lisa has just given birth, tiny kittens born into a world of hunger, heat, and gunfire. He protects them like they’re his own children. “I pride myself on protecting my cat Lisa and her kittens from hunger and bombing. … If I leave these animals alone, they will die of hunger and thirst. So, I fight with all my might to prevent that from happening” he says. “I haven’t eaten meat in five months. But I still try to feed her.”

Why Gaza Is Starving

Since October 2023, Gaza has been under near-total siege. Israel controls nearly all of its borders, airspace, and coastline. Egypt controls the southern Rafah crossing. Both have kept access tightly restricted, citing security concerns.

At the same time, Israeli forces have systematically bombed Gaza’s civilian infrastructure (homes, hospitals, water plants, bakeries) and severely limited the entry of food, fuel, and medicine. Many aid trucks have been denied entry. Others have arrived in too small numbers, or been looted before ever reaching families.

As of 20 July 2025, over 61,200 people (59,220 Palestinians and 1,983 Israelis) have been reported killed in the Gaza war according to the Gaza Health Ministry and Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Nearly half of those are believed to be children. A study published in the journal, Lancet, estimates the true death toll could reach more than 186,000 people.

And the situation is only getting worse.

In May 2024, Israel launched a full-scale ground assault on Rafah, displacing over a million people who had already fled from other parts of Gaza. The Rafah crossing, the last major lifeline, was sealed, cutting off nearly all humanitarian aid to the south. Fuel ran out. Medical supplies disappeared. Food became a rumour.

The World Health Organisation has confirmed that the entire remaining population of Gaza is suffering from ongoing extended food shortages, with around half a million people slowly starving to death and suffering from acute malnutrition.

There are no safe zones left. People have been displaced eight, nine, even ten times, and many now sleep under plastic sheets or dig into the sand for shelter.

This is not a natural disaster.
This is a siege.
And it is being watched, funded, and enabled in plain sight.

“Today, we face another displacement, our 13th. Exhaustion has overwhelmed us, and our heavy hearts with grief. This time, we can’t even afford to leave, hunger is consuming us and the cost of transportation is beyond our means,” one father, Ibraheam, says.

Starvation as a Weapon

In Gaza today, food is no longer measured in kilos, it’s measured in survival.

A single clove of garlic costs more than a loaf of bread used to. A splash of frying oil is a luxury. A kilo of flour, if you’re lucky enough to find it, can cost up to $60. And yet, most families need three kilos a day just to make enough bread to keep their children from crying themselves to sleep.

That’s $180 for bread alone. Not vegetables. Not water. Not even firewood to cook it. Just flour.

And if they manage to raise the money, they lose nearly half of it; 40% gone in withdrawal fees, taken by middlemen profiting off desperation.

Ahmed shakes his head. “That’s $180 for bread… every day.”

Ameen shared a photo of a small bag of flour he bought for over $350. “We don’t eat,” he said. “We ration it. We stretch a single kilo into 13 tiny loaves. Each child gets one. That’s all I can give them.”

In Gaza, bread is no longer a staple.
It is a miracle.

Even Water Is Disappearing

Every 3 – 5 days, drinking water becomes available, if they’re lucky. Long queues wind through streets lined with rubble, yellow jerry cans clutched in hand. People sweat under the sun for hours, hoping the tanks don’t run out before their turn.

“We are thirsty,” read a sign held up in a crowd. “Gaza is thirsty.”

Most of Gaza’s water infrastructure has been bombed into dysfunction, wells, pipes, even reservoirs. Desalination plants have shut down due to lack of fuel, while others were destroyed in airstrikes. The two still functioning can’t possibly serve more than 2 million people.

So they ration. They boil what little they can find. They cook over fires lit with plastic, scrap wood, broken furniture… whatever will burn. The smoke fills their lungs, burns their eyes, and settles into their tents like a second war.

And yet, what choice do they have?

Mothers pour dirty water through old cloth, praying it won’t make their children sick. Children sip slowly, not because they’re full, but because they’re afraid it might be days before they drink again.

In Gaza, thirst isn’t just uncomfortable.
It’s dangerous. It’s deliberate. And it’s everywhere.

Even Aid Can Get You Killed

In response to mounting international pressure, “humanitarian zones” like the GFH were promoted as safe havens. These were backed by U.S. involvement, with efforts like the floating pier for aid deliveries, but without any oversight by the United Nations or trusted international agencies.

In reality, these zones are overcrowded, unsanitary, and often still bombed. There is no coordinated aid system. No shelter. No protection. Civilians are told to go there, only to find more hunger, disease, and danger. Journalists and survivors alike have described them as death traps, places where people are herded, not helped.

There are no orderly lines.
No coordinated distribution system.
No aid workers with clipboards and megaphones.
Only chaos.

Tens of thousands of desperate civilians, many of them children, rush toward the possibility of bread, knowing it might be their only chance for days. There is no crowd control. No infrastructure. No second chance.

And sometimes, no mercy.

On February 29, 2024, one of the most horrific incidents took place on Al-Rashid Street. Over 100 people were killed and more than 750 injured as Israeli forces opened fire on a crowd gathered around aid trucks. Many were shot while reaching for food.

The Israeli military claimed the crowd was dangerous. That they were forced to respond. But eyewitnesses, medics, and international organizations confirmed that no warning shots were fired.

And it wasn’t an isolated case.

Aid has become a gamble: go, and you might eat, or die trying.

The GHF has become infamous for the near-daily shootings of people seeking food.

Speaking about the GHF site and the dangers people face, Ameen says:

“As they are defined locally in Gaza, they are death traps. … There are very experienced people who are adept at obtaining this aid [most of whom are merchants] who go to collect the aid and then sell it in the markets at exorbitant prices.”

“All the scarce goods available in the markets are from the GHF, as this organisation is the only source of aid entering Gaza at this time, given the closure of all crossings.”

And the situation is only getting worse.

Since mid-July, even the limited supply of food has run out. Markets have closed, traders have nothing left to sell, and people are starving.

Ameen told us:

“Our neighbour lost a kidney and part of his spleen due to an Israeli army bullet at the GHF site. Our other neighbour told me he went there to get food for his children. I told him to be careful. He was forced to go. I told him if he had any surplus food I could buy. He told me he had eight children!! What surplus food am I talking about? Two days later, our neighbour went missing. On the third day, his body was found near the GHF site. He died, leaving eight starving children behind.”

According to the United Nations, nearly 900 desperate and hungry Gazans have been killed in recent weeks trying to fetch food, with most deaths linked to the GHF.

The Haaretz report (an Israeli newspaper) even quoted unnamed Israeli soldiers as saying that troops were told to fire at the crowds of Palestinians and use unnecessary lethal force against people who appeared to pose no threat.

In Gaza, even survival is policed.
Even hunger is punished.
Even hope can get you killed.

What They See Each Day

“Today, a bomb was dropped on my tent. My children saw body parts everywhere.”

That line was sent in a WhatsApp message. No media outlet reported it. No world leader condemned it. But it happened.

They hide behind concrete slabs just to fetch water. They see people randomly shot in the streets. They hear gunfire at night, not in the distance, but just outside their door. And now, the fear isn’t just the gunfire. It’s what follows: infection, starvation, helplessness.

Ahmed the horse trainer still wells up when he talks about his horse. “He was on our farm when the army came. We fled. When we returned 20 days later, we found him shot in the head. I cried all day.”

Even the animals are starving. Cats eat stale bread. Horses are hunted. Dogs roam the rubble. “They are dying just like us,” Ahmed wrote.

What the World Gets Wrong

The world thinks aid is reaching Gaza. That it’s enough. That it’s fair.

It’s not.

Israel controls nearly all of Gaza’s borders, its land crossings, its airspace, and its sea. Very little gets in without Israeli approval. Egypt controls the Rafah crossing in the south, but it too remains tightly restricted, and often closed.

So even when aid is promised, it rarely makes it in. And when it does, it’s often too little, too late.

Nessreen says, “Most of the aid is stolen by thieves and traders here, who then sell it in the markets at extortionate prices. A bag of rice meant to save lives is flipped for profit in a black market born from starvation.”  

There’s also the lie that this is just a war. That this is two sides fighting.

But as Ibraheam says, “We are not part of the war. We are its victims.” Civilians. Children. Mothers. Graduates. People who once lived full, vibrant lives now reduced to whispers in a news cycle.

And maybe the cruelest myth of all, the one that lets the world look away, is the belief that Gazans are either militants or helpless.

They are neither.

They are engineers, teachers, horse trainers, animal lovers. They are poets. Parents. Volunteers.

As Ibraheam says:
“We love life. We love laughter, art, and music. We’re not just numbers on the news, we are human beings with beating hearts and big dreams, even through pain.”

Ameen puts it simply:
“Before the war, we were among the most educated in the Arab world. We had life. Friends. Beach walks. Coffee with sugar.”

Now, even sugar is a memory.

The Silence Is Terrifying

“No one [here] is talking about ending the war,” Ameen wrote. “Everyone is talking about hunger.”

Because the famine is quieter than the bombs…
But it’s more terrifying.

It doesn’t just break the body.
It breaks the will.

And still, you’ll find no photos of them crying. Not because they aren’t in pain, but because tears are a luxury when survival takes everything you have.

And Still, They Resist

Ameen made tea with sugar once last week. He called it a “perfect moment.”

Ahmed still feeds his cat before himself.

Nessreen still hugs her children and tells them, “God is with us, and many wonderful people around the world love you and stand by us until we find our freedom”

And Ibraheam? He still tells bedtime stories.
Not because the world outside is safe, but because he wants his children to fall asleep with something other than fear.

Even when tents are bombed.
Even when water runs dry.
Even when children ask for school and are given sand and smoke instead.
Somehow, they keep going.

Because to stop is to surrender.
And they will not surrender.

What They Would Say to You

“If you’re reading this,” Ibraheam says, “Don’t leave Gaza alone. We need you. Don’t stay silent in the face of injustice. Every show of support, every word, every donation… could save a life.”

Ameen adds: “This is not just war. This is genocide. This is famine. This is everything bad that can destroy a life, all at once. And still, we’re trying to live.”

They Gave You Their Stories. Now Give Them a Future.

You’ve read their words. You’ve seen their lives. You cannot unknow this now.

So, what will you do?

Will you share this story?

Will you donate, even a little?

Will you talk to your friends, your family, your followers, and refuse to let this be normal?

They are not numbers. They are not newsreels. They are families. Children. Artists. Animal lovers. Graduates. Dreamers.

They are Gaza. And they are still here.

Please donate whatever you can. Right now, donations are their only lifeline. The only way to put food on the table.

Ibraheam, one of the fathers who shared his story, wrote this to us:

“I write these words with a heart full of pain, but share them because I believe there are still people in this world whose hearts are alive. You are the light in our darkness. Thank you for listening.”

With love and gratitude to those who shared their stories:

Ibraheam, Nessreen, Ahmed Samil, Ahmed Al Sharif, and Ameen.

Thank you for your courage, your truth, and your trust.