Gaza’s Ramadan begins under a fragile truce, with fears of renewed war overshadowing prayers and fasting
The first day of Ramadan in Gaza was marked not by the usual warmth of family gatherings and worship, but by fear, grief, and the looming threat of renewed war. The fragile ceasefire’s first phase expired on Saturday, leaving Gazans uncertain whether the lull in fighting would last—or if more devastation was imminent.
For Fatima Al-Absi, a 57-year-old grandmother in Jabalia, Ramadan no longer carries its former joy. “Everything has changed,” she said, mourning the loss of her husband and son-in-law. With her home damaged and her mosque destroyed, she now struggles to find food, let alone comfort. “There’s no proper life.”
The war, which began on October 7, 2023, after Hamas-led terrorists killed 1,200 Israelis and took 251 hostages, has left Gaza in ruins. The first phase of the ceasefire brought some relief, with hostages and prisoners exchanged. However, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu delayed negotiations for a second phase, facing pressure from his right-wing coalition not to withdraw troops from Gaza.
After the ceasefire expired, Israel announced it was cutting humanitarian aid to Gaza due to Hamas’s refusal to extend the truce. The decision has heightened fears among war-weary residents. “We’re scared because there’s no stability,” Al-Absi said, dreading what could come next.
Despite the destruction, some Gazans found small solace in the temporary halt to fighting. Amal Abu Sariyah, a resident of Gaza City, noted, “Yes, the country is destroyed, but the feeling that the shelling has stopped makes this year better than the last one.”
Still, for many, the scars of war run deep. Hundreds of thousands of displaced Palestinians have returned to find their homes in ruins. Markets remain bare, and families struggle to afford even the basics for Ramadan. “I used to help people… Today, I can’t even help myself,” lamented Nasser Shoueikh.
In Khan Younis, Fatima Barbakh said her Ramadan shopping was reduced to essentials. “We can’t buy lanterns or decorations like we do every Ramadan,” she admitted. Yet amid the devastation, some strung festive lights between the wreckage of their homes—a desperate attempt at normalcy.
For now, the people of Gaza wait, clinging to the hope that war won’t return before the holy month ends. “We don’t want war,” Al-Absi pleaded. “We want peace and safety.”
