"I play with my son to distract him from hunger": witnesses of hunger in Gaza

Barcelona"I have worked on hunger and food crises for over 40 years, and there has never been a single case of such a carefully designed, tightly controlled, and precisely planned mass starvation targeting a population as we see in Gaza," writes Alex de Waal, one of the world's leading academic experts on hunger.

The expert warns that what we are seeing now was clearly foreseeable and had been warned about in reports from the UN and the Famine Review Committee, which monitors food crises worldwide. With the Strip under a total siege by the Israeli military and the destruction of all inland food sources through bombing (crops, greenhouses, agricultural wells, livestock, and the fishing fleet), it was only a matter of time before the people of Gaza ran out of food. The calculation is simple: it takes an adult between 60 and 80 days to die of hunger, less if they are already weakened by poor nutrition, disease, and lack of healthcare. Babies survive much less time without formula or if nursing mothers cannot feed them. "We knew this would happen," De Waal reiterates.

The other component of hunger planning has been the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), The humanitarian aid distribution mechanism imposed by the United States and Israel to bypass the UN system, which had been responsible for aid distribution in the Strip for more than eighty years. More than a thousand Palestinians died at its gates, and six thousand were wounded by Israeli fire while waiting to collect aid. The GHF has only four distribution points—the UN had 400—three located in the south and one in the center, thus contributing to the forced displacement of the northern population, which Tel Aviv has been trying to deplete of Palestinians since the start of Israel's operation in the Strip 21 months ago. As Davide Piscitellia, an expert at Forensic Architecture, points out, these points are open for between 20 and 25 minutes a day. This causes Palestinians desperate to feed their families to gather in the surrounding areas, and then the Israeli army fires at them, citing security concerns. These points are operated by mercenaries from US security firms with no humanitarian experience. Furthermore, the volume of food available is completely insufficient: according to the Israeli authorities themselves, 1,471 aid trucks entered the Gaza Strip between July 1 and 23, although the UN estimates that the number should be at least 500 daily. They also fail to supply essential items such as infant formula, drinking water, and cooking gas. The few food trucks that have been able to enter through the UN have been attacked by hungry crowds or attacked by the Israeli army during distribution: They are the flour massacres.

Four witnesses from the Gaza Strip tell ARA how they endure this inflicted hunger.

Ahmed al-Farrah, a pediatrician at Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis

"She was a healthy baby girl: now she's 11 months old and weighs only 3 kilos."

Dr. Al-Farrah is the head of the Pediatrics Department at Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip. In a telephone conversation with ARA, he explains the case of one of his patients, Sila, an 11-month-old girl who weighs only three kilos: she is skin and bones and barely moves. "This girl was born healthy, and the only thing that's happening to her is that she has no food, because her mother is also malnourished and can't breastfeed her. But here we barely have anything to help her. We have to ration nutritional supplements, and within two weeks, we'll have nothing left," he warns. The hospital is supported by Doctors Without Borders (MSF), but the humanitarian organization's warehouses in Gaza are empty, and its trucks are stopped on the Egyptian side of the border, in Rafah, due to the Israeli blockade.

In the bed next to him, the video call shows Abdelal, just 5 months old: "He weighs three kilos, like the day he was born: he hasn't gained a single gram, it's incredible he's still alive," says the doctor as, almost instinctively, he takes his arm and takes his pulse. The pediatrician says the nutrition unit is full of critical cases.

And he recalls: "We've been warning each other for months that we would reach this critical point and this is where we have been for the past ten days: now every family in Gaza is starving: children, grandparents, adults..." The medical staff, who must care for patients in impossible conditions of systematic attacks, are not spared either. At Nasser Hospital, there are around 500 of us working there, including medical, technical and administrative staff. The NGO that brought us food had to close its kitchens this week due to a lack of supplies, and we're working on empty stomachs," warns the doctor. He also has to think about his six children: "The youngest, Yussef, is 6 years old and always asks me for an apple or a banana, and all I can do now is play with him to try to distract him from his hunger."

Hidaya al-Makoud, teacher, Gaza City

"I can only watch as my son struggles for life."

She was left alone when an Israeli attack killed her husband. She now lives in a tent under the stands of what used to be the Gaza City football stadium. She alone cares for Mohamed, who was born 18 months ago. "We've been starving for many months. I ran out of milk, and I can't afford formula," she says, cuddling her baby, whose belly is swollen and whose ribs are prominent under his skin. The boy weighed 9 kilos and now weighs 6, but she hasn't been able to get nutritional supplements at any hospital.

The mother is aware that starvation severely damages a baby's organs and that, at this key stage of their development, it can affect their cognitive abilities. "And being so weak, he won't be able to fight off any disease," she admits. "There's nothing worse in the world than seeing a child go hungry," she says.

She also can't find diapers and has started using cloth diapers held together with plastic bags. But it's very hot, and there's not enough water to wash him properly. "I'm afraid he'll get an infection, because the price of diapers has skyrocketed for a long time."

La Hidaya no longer has much energy to speak and says she doesn't understand how the world allows children in Gaza to go through this hell. "I can't help but watch my little one fight for his life every second."

Kamal Abusalama, police officer, Gaza City

"Shoot at people waiting for help"

Kamal Abusalama narrowly survived the Israeli bombardment that destroyed the house where he and thirty members of his family had taken refuge on January 2. His parents, Marwan and Haniyya, his brother Wassim, and his nephew Ismail were killed in the attack. He was able to save his younger brother Mohamed, 12, with three pieces of shrapnel lodged in his chest and leg. Mohamed waves during the video call with the ARA, his smile distorted by a mouth infection: he is barely entering adolescence and has already lived through five wars. Kamal was a police officer in Jabalia, in the north of the Strip, and lost his job months ago. He now survives with his younger brother and three sons, Marwan (8), Adnan (6), and Ali, who was born a month early on October 7. "It's not that we're hungry, it's that they're starving us."

This isn't the first time he's gone without food for himself or his children. Jabalia already experienced a fierce siege last year: "We ate grass, tree leaves... anything edible to keep our children alive: Israel uses hunger to empty Palestinian land." He's lost 10 kilos in those 21 months. He says he's been to the GHF distribution points four times; the last time he came back covered in sores. "They shoot indiscriminately at people waiting to receive aid. It's a death trap, but we go because the alternative is to stay home and let our children starve." That day he managed to get 4 kilos of flour: "You have to grab the sack and run ahead, watching people being shot dead next to you."

Maram Humaid, journalist, Deir al-Balah

"We are rich because we have 10 kg of flour left."

The Al Jazeera journalist must combine her work with raising her son Ylas, who was born three months before the war began. She hasn't stopped working while trying to stay nourished, healthy, and with the energy to breastfeed him: breast milk is the best she can provide him amidst the hunger siege in Gaza. "We haven't been able to eat a single full meal in my house for four months, and our every day revolves around hunger," she explains. And while she answers desperate calls from women in the displacement camps she has met while covering her stories—and who trust that a journalist will know where to find food—she tries to find the words to comfort the little boy, who on his birthday asked for a glass of milk as a gift. "It's been weeks since I held an intimate funeral for the last glass of milk, the last grain of rice, the last spoonful of sugar, and the last can of beans we had at home," she confesses.

The last ten kilos of flour they had in their pantry made them rich in Gaza. "A few months ago, I used to complain about having to knead bread every morning because the bakeries were closed, but now it's a luxury that people die for every day." She says that every time she makes bread, she thinks she'll only use two cups of flour: if she knows how to ration it, they'll be able to eat for several more days. "But then I add a little more, and then a handful more, hoping it's enough to get through the day without hunger. And then counting what we have left for tomorrow."