The sun sets in Gaza.
Hajar Taleb (not his real name) is guided by his watch to know when exactly the day of fasting ends and realizes how much he misses having a date on hand, the first thing Palestinians eat during the month of Ramadan after a day without ingest liquids or food.
A great sadness invades her.
Currently, in Gaza these fruits are barely available and at prices out of reach of the majority of the population.
“This Ramadan is like nothing we have ever experienced before.
The war has been forcing us to fast for months now and eat only one meal a day,” this 40-year-old woman explains to this newspaper via WhatsApp messages.
When evening falls during Ramadan, the holy month for Muslims around the world, in Palestinian cities and towns the unmistakable cannon shot sounds announcing that families can now gather to share iftar
,
a copious dinner that ends the fast. and is loaded with tradition and symbolism.
But this year in Gaza, the only noise remains that of Israeli drones, interrupted only by that of bombs and projectiles.
“Do you hear it?
Day and night like this,” says Taleb in his audio messages that have this hum as a background.
Also other years at this time, the aroma of the spices of
maqluba
,
musakhan
and other Palestinian stews came out of this family's kitchen.
On the table there were also soups, salads, fruits, juices and sweets.
“Tonight we will eat canned beans.
And nothing more”, he ditches.
The 40 people, all more or less close relatives, who have been living for months in a tiny apartment in the city of Rafah, in the south of the Strip, have been living for weeks on beans, peas and canned tuna.
But it's Ramadan.
“You realize more than ever how miserable our situation is and that we don't know what is going to happen to us,” explains Taleb, distressed.
We have not eaten chicken, red meat or fish for more than four months.
This is not normal.
Hajar Taleb, mother of a Gaza family
According to UN figures, 1.7 million Gazans, that is, 75% of the population of the Strip, have been displaced since October 7, when the Palestinian Islamist movement Hamas carried out bloody attacks in Israel. , which, according to official sources, resulted in the death of some 1,200 people and the kidnapping of more than 200. The Israeli military response, which continues to this day, has caused the death of at least 31,000 Palestinians and has injured some 73,000. people, according to figures from the Hamas-controlled Gaza Ministry of Health.
“There is no money, there is no encouragement, there is no food and there is no material space to celebrate an
iftar
,” adds Taleb.
Every Ramadan, the family prepared for these weeks of fasting and prayer, but also of joy: they bought new clothes, decorated the house, put lights on the facades and gathered around the table, often inviting relatives and friends. to share this sunset meal.
But in this tiny apartment in Rafah, the walls are bare and the 40 people eat poorly on the floor, on mattresses or standing.
A Ramadan of mourning
Before October 7, Taleb and her husband lived in an apartment in central Gaza City, right above that of this woman's parents.
Today, the building is in ruins.
They both worked and had a middle-class life, without luxuries, but without excessive difficulties.
“We haven't eaten chicken, red meat or fish for more than four months.
This is not normal,” this woman laments.
“We have not been able to cook any typical Ramadan dishes because we do not have the means to buy most of the traditional foods.
Well there aren't any, well we can't pay them.
The other day they asked me five dollars (4.5 euros) for three eggs and 50 (45 euros) for a kilo of meat.
We have some money left, but we have to ration it,” she explains.
On Taleb's table there will also be no
qatayef
, the official dessert of Ramadan, sweet dumplings, usually filled with cream or honeyed nuts.
They are sold at stalls on the street and bought by the dozen.
An
iftar
without
qatayef
is like Christmas without nougat.
“We have not been able to make them at home or buy them.
I haven't seen anyone selling nearby either.
There will be nothing sweet on the table… in the literal and figurative sense of the word,” this woman snorts, referring to the serious humanitarian situation in the Strip.
During Ramadan, it is normal for Muslims to give food to those who do not have it and do charity work.
Despite the difficulties, Taleb has been organizing collections for weeks among friends and acquaintances abroad to build tents in Rafah, where there are many people living on the streets.
“But awnings and wood for the structure are becoming more and more expensive.
In November, making an austere tent cost 100 dollars, now it costs more than 350,” he explains.
25 kilometers north of Rafah, in the Nuseirat refugee camp, Najwa Abu Ahmed (not her real name) has prepared a dinner to break the fast that is also nothing like an
iftar
and that does not change much with compared to the preceding days.
“We have lost the spirit of Ramadan.
There are no family gatherings, there are no prayers, there is only fear, bombs and death.
These are days of mourning.
How can I celebrate Ramadan if I have relatives who have died and my sisters and brothers are living in tents because their homes have been bombed?” asks the 42-year-old teacher in WhatsApp voice messages.
We have lost the spirit of Ramadan.
There are no family gatherings, there are no prayers, there is only fear, bombs and death.
These are days of mourning.
Najwa Abu Ahmed, Palestinian from Gaza
Abu Ahmed, her husband and three children recently returned to their partially destroyed home in Nuseirat, after spending weeks in Rafah, crammed into friends' apartment.
“Israel announced a ground operation in the south and we decided to go home.
We took advantage of a corridor announced by the Israeli army and nothing happened to us,” explains Abu Ahmed.
Now there are 10 people under the same roof, because they have received Abu Ahmed's sister and her children, whose home in the town of Khan Yunis was bombed.
There are two more families in the area.
The rest are empty houses or converted into ruins.
Unsweetened tea and dry bread
The family has been eating once a day for weeks and on their menu there are lentils, preserves and in the best of cases some vegetables that they find in the street stalls of some merchants.
“My husband went out this morning to see what he could get.
One of us always stays with our children.
And finally I made eggplants with potatoes.
The kilo of eggplants cost us five dollars (4.5 euros) and the kilo of potatoes four (3.6 euros),” he explains, calculating that it is triple what they paid before October.
“And after so many weeks of war we have run out of cash.
When a family member or acquaintance sends us money from abroad, we can go to an exchange office or the black market, but they take a significant commission.
Everything is difficulties,” he sighs.
For
suhoor,
the pre-dawn breakfast during Ramadan, this Palestinian mother prepared tea and some dry bread with
zaatar,
a blend of spices and herbs such as thyme and oregano.
“Tea without sugar,” intervenes Mustafa, her husband.
He is not fasting this year.
“Allah will not take it into account, after everything we are experiencing,” he says.
All Muslims who have reached puberty, except pregnant women, sick women and some other exceptions, respect the fasting and prayer of the month of Ramadan, one of the five pillars of Islam.
“The children are the ones who worry me the most.
They are eating poorly and have no way to entertain themselves.
There is no school, there is hardly any internet connection, they have no friends nearby…” laments Abu Ahmed.
In Nuseirat there is less food, in quantity and variety, according to this family, because the little humanitarian aid that enters Gaza from the Rafah crossing, bordering Egypt, stays mainly in the south.
“The news says that there are people dying of hunger in the north, but it also happens in the center and the south.
What are our children and grandparents eating?
Only canned stuff, nothing fresh.
This is unthinkable, it is a disaster,” this woman sobs.
After the frugal
iftar
, the family performs the
tarawih
prayer , the night prayer.
In Gaza very few mosques continue to call worshipers.
Most are in ruins or have been converted into shelters for displaced people.
“And those that are still open close when night falls because they fear Israeli bombings.
During the day, some men venture to pray in the mosques or what remains of them, but it is dangerous.
We pray at home,” explains Abu Ahmed.
“Though ultimately, all places in Gaza are dangerous.
And we don't know what will happen in the days to come, now that there seems to be no hope of an imminent truce."
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