Israel’s renewed assault on Gaza brings terror, starvation, and uncertainty as civilians struggle to survive amid airstrikes and blockades.
Time and again, we find ourselves trapped in the midst of death, explosions, and relentless killing—all in the blink of an eye.
In the early hours of Tuesday, just as people were setting their alarms for suhoor, the Israeli military unleashed a terrifying barrage of missiles across the Gaza Strip—both in the north and the south. The sudden onslaught shattered the fragile quiet of the night, replacing it with fire, destruction, and despair.
I woke up in terror, my heart pounding. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. I struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening, but the deafening echoes of explosions made it clear—this was no dream. This was another round of Israeli bombardment. It was the same feeling I had on the morning of October 7, when I woke up to the sounds of destruction, struggling to understand that we were now in a state of war declared by Israel.
I sat up abruptly, my eyes scanning the darkened room. My first instinct was to check on my two-year-old daughter, Lya, and my husband.
Miraculously, Lya remained asleep despite the deafening blasts. She had been raised amid the sounds of war. She was only six months old when this nightmare began. Rockets and missiles have become part of her world. As much as it pains me, I find solace in the fact that she is too young to fully grasp the horror surrounding us.
My husband, however, was awake. His face was pale with shock, reflecting the same fear that gripped my heart.
“What is happening?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He exhaled deeply, his voice heavy with dread. “Israel has decided to resume the war on Gaza.”
I held my breath, straining to hear any signs of movement outside. Were people running? Were ambulances rushing to rescue the wounded? Was my neighborhood being attacked at that moment? I bombarded my husband with endless questions. His response was always the same: “I don’t know. The news hasn’t covered it yet.”
I pulled Lya closer, brushing a hand over her soft curls. I wondered how much longer we would have to live like this—how many more nights would be stolen from us, how many more dawns would bring fire instead of light.
Renewed Declaration of War
The explosions continued for nearly 30 minutes. Each blast sent vibrations through the walls, rattling the windows, and unsettling our fragile sense of security.
As the morning light crept in, so did the grim reality of the attack. The death toll was rising at an alarming rate. According to the Palestinian Health Ministry, over 300 civilians were killed in the assault that Israel unleashed that Tuesday morning.
“When Will We Live–Free From Fear, Free From War?”
With Israel officially resuming its war on Gaza and violating its ceasefire agreement with Hamas, panic spread across the Strip. Citizens scrambled to re-prepare their emergency bags, which typically include official documents, a few clothes, and basic necessities, in case sudden evacuation orders were released by the Israeli military.
The closure of the Karam Abu Salem crossing for nearly two weeks had already blocked food and aid from entering Gaza, marking Israel’s first breach of the ceasefire agreement. Gazans had clung to the hope that the crossings would reopen and goods would re-enter the Strip. However, as expected, Israel crushed that hope by officially terminating the agreement.
This closure and the renewed declaration of war on Gaza have reignited fears of facing the specter of starvation once again. People rushed to the markets to buy whatever food essentials they could find, causing a surge in demand and the disappearance of many vital products.
The people of Gaza, especially those in the north, had faced the ghost of starvation for almost 15 months. Fearing a repeat of the same nightmare, individuals reacted differently to the closure of crossings, scrambling for whatever supplies they could find.
The Struggle for Survival
Yousef, like many others, has been keen on stockpiling legumes and canned foods, believing they are the best options during wartime scarcity. Yousef is one of the few who remained steadfast in northern Gaza, enduring famine, starvation, and displacement.
“I know what starvation means, and I am doing everything I can to secure my family’s needs if the closure of crossings continues,” he said. “And I know what I find today, I won’t find tomorrow.”
But 52-year-old Abu Ahmed felt uncertain about stockpiling. When I asked him if he had secured his family’s needs, he simply replied, “What if we are forced to leave?”
Abu Ahmed has a family of six—his wife, one son, and four daughters. Having experienced multiple displacements before, he understands the challenge of carrying provisions while evacuating.
“When we evacuate, we think of our necessary documents and papers, clothes, mattresses, pillows, and covers,” Abu Ahmed said. “We don’t think of food, and we cannot carry food.”
Abu Ahmed has already suffered immense personal loss—his eldest son was killed in an Israeli airstrike. With only one young son left, he feels the burden of being the sole provider for his wife and daughters. “I have no other sons to help me carry the provisions. Why would I buy so many things that I won’t be able to carry alone?”
Forced displacement has been a frightening reality for every Gazan as the war continues. While Yousef is convinced of stockpiling and Abu Ahmed isn’t, many others do not even have the financial capacity to decide.
“I can barely secure my family’s day-to-day needs amidst the skyrocketing prices and the absence of employment opportunities,” said 32-year-old Abu Omar.
The prices of essential goods have skyrocketed. A kilo of sugar has risen from 7 NIS (approximately $1.50) to 15 NIS (almost $4), while a liter of cooking oil jumped from 9 NIS ($2) to 30 NIS (almost $8). For families already living in poverty, even basic necessities are now out of reach.
“I don’t have enough money to buy extra things and stockpile them for the days to come. I haven’t worked since October 2023. I basically depend on relief aids,” he continued.
“And I’m not even sure if I would remain alive until tomorrow, let alone next week,” he ended.
As the war drags on, the uncertainty grows. Gazans are left wondering: How long will we endure this suffering? How much more can we take before the world listens? And most importantly, when will we be allowed to live—free from fear, free from war?
(The Palestine Chronicle)
– Noor Alyacoubi is a Gaza-based writer. She studied English language and literature at al-Azhar university in Gaza City. She is part of the Gaza-based writers’ collective We Are Not Numbers. She contributed this article to The Palestine Chronicle.
Stop calling it a war. You’re not helping the Palestinians by sugar-coating it for the West. Call it what it is – a genocide.
This reminds me of a trick Tricky Dicky Nixon played in the final stages of the US involvement in Vietnam – Operation Linebacker II – intended to show the North Vietnamese US strength. The Nixon administration ended up giving the North Vietnamese exactly what they had been asking for all along. So this “show of strength” is more a proof of weakness – and that the Trump administration has gone along with it, is yet another sign of the US’s desperate weakness and general cluelessness. Something the EU, the Arab League, and the OIC should take notice of. (As well as the GCC – the time has never been so urgent for them to make common cause with Iran.)