Cairo: Struggles of a Family in Gaza

Mervat Hijazi and her nine children went without food on Thursday—except for a small supply of peanut paste for her underweight baby.

“I feel ashamed that I can’t provide for my child,” Hijazi shared with Reuters from her tent in Gaza City. “I cry at night when the baby cries and her stomach hurts from hunger.”

Her 6-year-old daughter, Zaha, can’t sleep because of the constant Israeli artillery fire.

“She shakes terribly, and then she doesn’t eat and feels hungry. I’ll put her back to sleep, promising her food in the morning. I know, I’m just lying to her.”

Hijazi, 38, reflected on the harrowing week their family has faced.

On Sunday, May 18, they received about half a kilo of lentils from a charity kitchen.

Monday saw local aid groups distributing vegetables at a camp, but Hijazi’s family didn’t get any. Her 14-year-old daughter, Menna, managed to bring back a tiny portion of cooked potatoes after a trip to the kitchen.

Everyone was starving, so they relied on drinking water to fill their stomachs.

By Tuesday, they got another half kilo of cooked pasta from the kitchen. One daughter also received falafel from her uncle, who lives nearby.

On Wednesday, they had a relatively good meal—a bowl of rice with lentils. It wasn’t enough, but Menna went back and pleaded for more, eventually leaving with two extra small dishes.

“She’s determined, and I’ll keep begging until they help us,” Hijaji said.

Thursday brought more challenges as the kitchen was closed for unknown reasons. The family managed only some peanut packets received from a clinic, as their baby formula was almost finished.

“I barely eat myself, so there’s not enough milk to feed her,” said Hijaji, whose husband took a bicycle to get food from the charity kitchen.

The condition of the Hijazi family illustrates the dire situation in the Palestinian enclave. The Global Hunger Monitor has raised alarms, stating that half a million people face potential starvation.

Israeli forces have been conducting attacks and a siege on Gaza since militant groups launched a surprise assault on Israeli border towns on October 7, 2023. While Israel claims Hamas attacks resulted in 1,200 deaths, Gazan authorities report that Israeli strikes have killed over 53,000 people.

Israeli officials have repeatedly stated that Gaza has sufficient food supplies and accused Hamas of diverting aid for military purposes.

This week marked a change as Israel began allowing aid into Gaza for the first time since March 2. This includes flour and baby food, although a new system, managed by private contractors and overseen by the Israeli military, is set to begin soon—a plan that has received criticism from the United Nations and various aid groups as it may disrupt existing distribution networks.

Hijazi mentioned that her family has yet to see improvements in aid availability, and she worries about her baby, who weighed only 5 kg last week—about half of what a healthy one-year-old should weigh, as per the WHO guidelines.

Her family is down to sharing just one meal daily.

UN Aid Chief Tom Fletcher noted that the amount of aid Israel proposed to permit into Gaza was a significant reduction from what’s desperately needed.

The tent that Hijazi and her children share is large and rectangular, adorned with a photo of her slim husband and father, Mohammed. Inside, a thin mattress occupies one side, while a stacked plastic bowl holds mostly empty jars.

They originally hail from the Sabra district of Gaza, where Israel’s initial attacks were focused. On November 17, 2023, the day Mohammed was killed, they left their home.

They traveled south to the central area of Deia al-Barah, temporarily staying with relatives before moving to a camp designated for evacuees. After a ceasefire in January, they returned to Gaza City, but their home was in ruins, forcing them into refugee camps.

Hijazi described how hunger leaves them lethargic, often lacking the energy to clean their tents. When Reuters visited, many children lay quietly on the ground.

Yet there remains work to be done.

Menna frequently has to line up at the food kitchen, arriving over an hour before it opens just to secure a chance at a meal—and sometimes waiting even longer after serving starts, according to Hijazi.

On days when water tankers don’t reach certain parts of the camp, 15-year-old Mustafa and 13-year-old Ali must trek to another district for water, lugging heavy plastic jerrycans back to their tent.

They often reminisce about life before the war, sharing memories of enjoyable meals. Mohammed Hijazi, before the war, was a skilled plumber earning a decent income.

“People used to admire the variety of food we had,” his wife recalled—a breakfast spread of eggs, beans, falafel, cheese, yogurt, bread, followed by lunches and dinners filled with meat, rice, chicken, and vegetables.

Her 16-year-old daughter, Malik, reminisced about burgers, chocolates, and Coca-Cola.

“We are civilians. We aren’t advocates for this war; we just want it to end,” Hijazi stated.

“We long to return to our actual home, to live without the fear of dying in our sleep and to rest with full stomachs in peace.”