At the break of dawn, 10-year-old Youssef al-Najjar races barefoot, clutching a battered pot, to a community kitchen in Gaza City, only to find hundreds of others already queueing.
“People push and shove out of fear of missing their turn. There are little children who fall,” said Youssef, his voice barely rising above a whisper.
Thousands of Gazans, including many children, rush to community kitchens every day in the hope of securing food for their families.
The humanitarian crisis in Gaza has worsened significantly since Israel blocked all aid from entering the territory on March 2, days before resuming its military campaign following the collapse of a ceasefire.
Supplies are dwindling and the UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) on Friday said it had sent out its “last remaining food stocks” to kitchens.
The weight of responsibility fell on Youssef’s shoulders after his father was killed in the war.
He dreams not of toys or games, but of something achingly simple: to sit at a table with his mother and sister, eating peacefully.
For that, each morning, he races to the community kitchen.
“Sometimes, in the chaos, my pot slips from my hands, and the food spills onto the ground,” he told AFP.
“I return home empty-handed… and that pain is worse than hunger.”
AFP footage from a community kitchen in Gaza City shows scores of boys and girls crowded outside the facility, pushing their pots and pans forward in a desperate attempt to secure whatever food they can.
One young man is even seen hitting a boy with a metal pot as he approaches a container of freshly-cooked rice.
“I have been waiting for over five hours to get a plate of rice for the children to eat,” said Mohammed Abu Sanad, a displaced Gazan, at another such facility.
“I have no income, and if we get food from the free kitchen, we eat. If not, we’ll die of hunger.”
The WFP, one of the main providers of food assistance in Gaza, said these kitchens were expected to run out of food “in the coming days”.
For Aida Abu Rayala, 42, the need was greater than ever.
“There is no flour, no bread, no way to feed my children. We stand for hours under the blazing sun and sometimes in the freezing cold,” said Rayala, from central Gaza’s Nuseirat area.
“Some days, after hours of waiting, the food runs out before my turn comes.”
Rayala’s home was destroyed in an air strike, and the family now lives in a tent of thin nylon sheets.
One day, she waited for three hours, her feet blistering from standing.
When she finally reached the counter, there was no food left.
“I went home with empty hands. My children cried… and in that moment, I wished I would die rather than see them hungry again.”
At the heart of Gaza’s food assistance is Faten al-Madhoun, 52, a volunteer chef who runs a charity kitchen in Beit Lahia, northern Gaza.
She and her 13 volunteers cook by hand, over wood fires, without proper kitchens or modern equipment.
“Some days we prepare 500 meals, but more than 600 people show up,” Madhoun said.
“The need is enormous. And with every day that the borders stay closed, it only grows.”
With flour vanishing from the markets, bakeries shuttered, and even basic vegetables now luxuries, the community kitchens have become the only remaining source of food for tens of thousands.
Alaa Abu Amira shares a similar plight in the southern Khan Yunis area.
“If you arrive late, even by a few minutes, there’s no food,” said Abu Amira, 28, who used to live in the northern town of Beit Lahia.
“People crowd, they push, they fall. I saw a child get injured, and once, a little girl was burned when a pot of hot food spilled on her.”
When he manages to secure a meal, it is often cold, tasteless, repetitive — canned peas and beans, rice half-cooked on makeshift wood fires.
“Our stomachs can barely handle it anymore,” Abu Amira said, “but what choice do we have? Hunger breaks everything.”
Despite the daily ordeal, Rayala vowed to continue with her quest for food.
“Tomorrow, I will try to go earlier, hoping to get a plate of rice. We just want to live with dignity,” she said.
AFP
AFP
AFP
AFP
AFP
