While the world is busy with Israel’s war on Iran, Gaza continues to starve

Everyone is talking about Israel and Iran. But in Gaza, we remain trapped in a brutal siege, starving and struggling to survive heavy bombardment.

Social media overflows with breaking news, countdowns to escalation, jokes about the end of the world, and videos of people dancing as missiles fall on Israel. Images of Israelis in bomb shelters go viral, drawing sympathy, as if they were not the ones who ignited this war.

Meanwhile, hunger is killing us slowly. For Gaza, the world has already ended. Every day under siege pushes us closer to death. What frightens me most is that as Israel weaves Gaza into its broader war narrative, the world will turn away. And when it looks back, we may already be expelled or left to die.

It has been twenty months since this nightmare began. The death toll rises without end, yet nothing changes. I still cannot believe we have gone nearly two years without a proper meal. People are shot for a bag of flour.

During the brief ceasefire earlier this year, no one I knew imagined the war would return. I even teased my father as he stocked up on canned food and flour, joking that he had developed famine habits. I didn’t realize those supplies would not last through another round of starvation.

We no longer eat bread every day. When we do, we soak pasta overnight and mix it with a little flour to form something dough-like. Others grind lentils or beans to create something barely resembling bread. The real problem is that flour is scarce. Markets are empty, and bakeries are shut down. One kilo of flour now costs almost $14. Prices depend on how many aid trucks are allowed in, a number that shifts according to the mood of the Israeli army.

Yet even having money doesn’t mean we can eat. Banks are closed, cash is unavailable, and we don’t use cards in Gaza because electricity and internet are mostly unavailable. If someone manages to access their account, it comes at a cruel cost, with commissions now exceeding 40 percent. We lose nearly half of our money just to withdraw it. Much of the money we carry is torn or worn out, and many shopkeepers refuse to accept it. 

I usually avoid the market. There is nothing to buy. But sometimes I have no choice. I recently went to al-Sahaba market in Gaza City, hoping to find something to eat. But it is no longer a real market.

A few wilted vegetables are sold at outrageous prices. Nutritional supplements meant for children are openly traded. A kilo of unripe tomatoes costs $17. Poor-quality cucumbers go for $14. Onions are $57 — and they are sold slice by slice. This is simply because more than 80 percent of cropland is damaged, and nearly 78 percent is inaccessible. Only 4.6 percent of Gaza’s land is still cultivable.

Navigating the death traps

But what makes the situation worse is how this hunger is managed, or rather, manipulated. This systematic famine is hidden behind a humanitarian facade. The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, backed by Israel and the U.S., presents itself as a lifeline. But its aid hubs are death traps. People walk for hours to reach them, only to be met with armed gangs, Israeli fire, or humiliation.

Even when aid enters Gaza, it rarely reaches us. According to the United Nations, just 4,600 tonnes of flour have entered Gaza since mid-May — barely enough for eight days. Much of it never reaches its destination. In the north, where I live, there are no functioning distribution centers — something that’s especially concerning given that the majority of people in the Gaza Strip live in Gaza City. People walk for hours through dangerous terrain just to reach food. Many are shot while waiting in line. On June 17 alone, at least 80 were killed attempting to access aid.

My family refuses to accept this kind of degradation and never allows anyone to go to the aid hubs. Instead, we buy food at outrageously inflated prices from looters. But even that is a rare privilege in Gaza, where so many have lost their jobs and sources of income and can no longer afford to buy anything at all. Still, others face all the risks and indignity of going to the aid centers anyway, because it is often the only way to feed their children.

What many of us in Gaza feel now goes beyond fear, as if our very social fabric is being torn apart by design. Armed gangs like the Abu Shabab group and foreign mercenaries have been given the power to control food lines. They steal aid, shoot at civilians, and spread fear among people who are already desperate. Israeli soldiers often do nothing or even help them. This deliberate violence is breaking us down more and more, destroying the trust and solidarity that hold us together.

Meanwhile, Gaza is disappearing from global headlines, even as the situation darkens by the day. I feel how our voices are becoming unheard, fading under the noise of shifting media attention. 

Israel’s war on Iran has buried our genocide beneath the language of regional conflict. Palestinian suffering has become too constant and too expected to trend. Gaza has slipped from the news, pushed aside by stories seen as more urgent or more “complex.”

But I am writing this to say: Please don’t stop talking about Gaza. Israel’s oppression is not just a local tragedy, and it is not complicated. What Israel is doing in Gaza is a stain on humanity — a widening persecution spreading to other parts of the Middle East without accountability. Speak for Gaza so the genocide will not be normalized and repeated in other places.