Helpless in the face of hunger: Gaza families pray for deliverance – or death

Said Zeenat, a young Palestinian woman speaking to UN News from the battered Gaza Strip.

Zeenat and her husband, Moamen Abu Asr, live with their children in a flimsy canvas tent, one of thousands that now line Gaza’s coastline. 

Once a place of rest and leisure, the beach has become a last refuge for Palestinians displaced by relentless Israeli bombardment and military operations.

As displacement orders push people into ever smaller pockets of land, the strip of coast around Gaza’s seaport has turned into a makeshift camp. Its frayed tents and overcrowded conditions reflect the gravity of a humanitarian crisis that has plunged to unprecedented depths after more than 600 days of conflict between Israeli forces and Hamas.

The seaport, once a centre of Gaza’s fishing economy, is now a wasteland. All the boats have been destroyed, and in their place stands a sprawling encampment – a harsh and barren environment with almost none of the basic necessities for survival.

A family with nothing left

Moamen and his family have been living in the camp for around two months, surviving in a tent cobbled together from salvaged mats and broken utensils recovered from nearby rubble.

He sits outside with his children, scrolling through pictures on his phone – fragments of a past life left behind in Shujaiya, east of Gaza City, when residents were ordered to evacuate without warning.

“There have been times when we’ve been displaced once every two months,” he told UN News. “Every day is suffering for us. We came to Gaza port with no food, no water – not even our iron tent.”

“There is nothing of life’s basics for us,” he said. To feed his family, Moamen repairs small water tanks for five shekels – about $1.43 – barely enough for anything in a place where prices have soared. “One kilo of flour is a hundred shekels [around $28.60],” he explained. “Our situation is very difficult, and we do not know what to do. By God, this is not life. We would rather die.”

‘We live on water’

The humanitarian situation has worsened since March, when Israeli authorities imposed a complete blockade on aid. Though this was slightly eased in recent weeks, the limited trickle of supplies cannot meet the overwhelming demand. Desperate civilians, starving and fearful, have resorted to looting whatever aid does arrive.

In their tent, Zeenat washes a few cooking utensils – all she could find in the communal makeshift kitchen. Most days, there is no food to prepare.

“Yesterday I cried a lot about my son,” she said. “He told me, ‘Mum, I want to eat.’ I stood helpless, not knowing what to do. The food didn’t come from the charity kitchen. We now live on fresh water. I recommend it to my children to help fill their stomachs. Today, thank God, we got a plate of food and ate it.”

‘Enough is enough’

Conditions in the tent are dire. Flies swarm everywhere, and stray dogs – thin and hungry – prowl nearby. “Yesterday, a dog came into the tent and was pulling on a tarpaulin while my son was sleeping. I thought it was pulling my baby. I screamed and my husband kicked the dog out.”

“We don’t know where to go or what to do. They uprooted us. Our hearts are extinguished. We can’t be patient anymore. Our patience has run out.”

The tents scattered along Gaza’s coastline are a stark symbol of the deepening humanitarian tragedy. The cries of hunger are louder than any voice of hope. There is no shelter left – only the sea remains.

Nothing encapsulates the despair more than Zeenat’s final plea: “Let the war end. Give us a break. Otherwise, let all countries come together and drop a nuclear bomb on us and end our misery, because we are tired of this life. Enough is enough.”