Before the war, Ramadan in Gaza had a softness to it,” 23-year-old Ibrahim Yaghi tells The Independent from the heart of Gaza City.
“I remember the warm glow of lanterns hanging in a narrow street, the smell of freshly baked bread before maghrib [evening prayer], the sound of children laughing after tarawih [night prayer],” he recalls. “Families gathered in large numbers, doors were open, visits were constant. The night felt alive.”
After two years of relentless bombardment by Israel, more than 72,000 people have been killed and more than 11,000 remain missing.
Ninety per cent of homes have been destroyed, 18,000 Palestinians are waiting for medical evacuation, and the Strip is covered in tent cities largely without running water, fuel, or everyday amenities.
The vast majority of Gazans are still living in rudimentary shelters, the UN Development Programme (UNDP) said this week, with 300,000 more housing units needed.
Following a three-day trip to Gaza and the West Bank, UNDP chief Alexander De Croo said the living conditions were the worst he had ever seen, and that it could take seven years just to remove the rubble.
It is in that bleak shadow that this year’s Ramadan takes place. The holy month is a time of introspection, abstinence and community for Muslims. In Gaza, it is the first since a fragile ceasefire began last October following the brutal two-year conflict with Israel.
“The atmosphere is different, gatherings are smaller, some faces are missing, some homes are no longer standing,” says Ibrahim. “Conversations revolve around safety and loss more than celebration. The streets are quieter, the joy is still there but it carries grief within it. Ramadan has changed… it feels heavier, more intimate.”
Many will have lost loved ones during the two-year conflict, and at a time when families come together, their presence will be particularly missed.
“For the people in Gaza, it’s a sad Ramadan because many still miss a lot of their loved ones. They are either killed, missing or detained,” says Red Cross worker Amani al-Naouq from Deir al-Balah in central Gaza. “There will be empty chairs and tables without their loved ones joining them for iftar.”
While Muslims observing Ramadan fast during the day, they still have meals before dawn and after sunset. But ongoing problems with food supply and aid in Gaza mean many will struggle even with this.
The World Food Programme (WFP) told The Independent that “families are beginning the holy month with almost no ability to afford basic food, even when it is available on the shelves”.
More than 90,000 households will be assisted with payments to allow them to buy what they need and help local markets recover. WFP community kitchens serve 360,000 hot meals a day.
A WFP spokesperson said: “That’s why humanitarian aid is absolutely essential – and often the only way people can break their fast with dignity. For families observing Ramadan under these conditions, regular and predictable humanitarian access through all crossings is the only way they can make it through the month with dignity.”
World Central Kitchen (WCK) provides over 60 per cent of hot meals across Gaza, delivering 1 million every day.
During Ramadan, the charity will provide 100,000 kits, each consisting of 70 meals, to help families get through the month. They hope this will allow them to “sustain themselves from suhoor [closing of the fast] to iftar [opening of the fast] with dignity”.
But after Israel banned 37 aid groups from operating in the Strip – including Medecins Sans Frontieres – WCK staff are finding themselves inundated with demands, with support stripped back.
“Some NGOs risk losing their registration,” says Wadhah Hubaishi, WCK response director. “It creates this environment where there is more burden on us, and that poses a challenge.”
Despite the US-brokered ceasefire coming into force, deaths have continued, with reports of at least 600 Palestinians having been killed since October.
“Yes, it’s a ceasefire, but still… people can be exposed to death… to many risks, especially when there is shelling, when there is shooting,” says Red Cross worker al-Naouq.
Places of worship hold a special significance during Ramadan, but many mosques have been reduced to rubble, with worshippers left to pick up the pieces as best they can.
“Four hundred and thirty prayer areas have been rebuilt, some using plastic sheets from greenhouses, some made of wood, and some constructed with plastic sheets from tents,” says Amir Abu al-Amrain, director of the religious affairs ministry in Gaza City.
But despite the many challenges, Palestinians are still doing what they can to observe their holiest of months.
“Ramadan used to arrive like a guest of honour, welcomed with lanterns, sweets and long shopping lists,” says Ibrahim. “This year it arrives differently: it comes quietly stepping over rubble, entering homes that have learnt to live with absence.
“This year, our tables are modest, but our prayers are heavier. We break our fast with what is available, and we break it with prayer. We still welcome it, not because life is easy, but because it remains.”
