In the heart of Gaza, hunger is no longer just a threat—it is a daily, brutal reality. On September 16, 2025, the Gaza Ministry of Health confirmed three new deaths due to severe malnutrition in the previous 24 hours, including one child. Since August 22, when the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC) declared famine in Gaza City, at least 150 Palestinians, among them 31 children, have died from hunger, according to the ministry’s daily update. The IPC has warned that the famine crisis will likely spread to Deir al-Balah and Khan Younis in central and southern Gaza by the end of September, painting a grim picture for the enclave’s future.
Yet, the story on the ground is more complicated than numbers alone can tell. While images circulate of bustling markets and well-stocked stores in southern Gaza, these snapshots mask a cruel paradox. As reported by Al Jazeera, markets and shops in southern Gaza do appear full of food—crates of cucumbers and tomatoes, sacks of flour, cartons of eggs, and bottles of oil line the shelves. Cafés and restaurants even serve pizza, drinks, and improvised desserts. But for the vast majority of Gazans, these goods are nothing more than a mirage. Prices are astronomical, and a severe cash crisis means most residents simply cannot afford to buy what they see.
For those lucky enough to still have money in their bank accounts, the ordeal is far from over. Withdrawing cash comes with a steep 50 percent commission, and the banknotes in circulation are so worn that some shops and cafés refuse to accept them. As a result, only a tiny, privileged minority can sit at a café and sip a $9 coffee or buy an $18 pizza. The rest of the population can only watch, their hunger unassuaged by the sight of food they cannot hope to purchase.
“Most people who pass by full stands do not pick up a bag of tomatoes or a tray of eggs. They only look, sometimes lingering in silence, sometimes moving on quickly with hollow eyes,” one local recounted to Al Jazeera. “For the majority, these goods are visible but untouchable, mocking in their abundance and hurtful in their unaffordability.”
This is the paradox of hunger in Gaza: food is available in certain places, but it is out of reach for nearly everyone. In early August, cheese and sugar made a brief return to the market after months of absence. The return was met with fleeting hope—until the prices were revealed. Sugar cost $70 per kilo, and cheese $10 per block, more than some families’ weekly income before the war. Flour, a staple, ranged from $26 to $45 per kilo, while a single small egg could fetch $5. These prices remained stubbornly high, and the brief joy of seeing once-familiar foods on the shelves quickly gave way to despair.
These sudden reappearances of commercial goods are not random, according to local accounts. They are carefully timed, seemingly intended to produce images of abundance just as international pressure mounts. Goods enter Gaza through a convoluted chain of intermediaries—Israeli suppliers, merchants who pay bribes or protection fees to armed groups, and speculators who hoard supplies to resell at even higher prices. By the time food reaches the shelves, it has become a luxury item, more for show than for sustenance.
“These moments, these carefully timed ‘entries’ of goods, have become weapons in themselves,” a resident told Al Jazeera. “Israel knows that the vast majority of Palestinians are now unemployed and fully dependent on aid to survive. Its cruelty is not only in the bombs or the blockade but also in the way it toys with our needs by allowing a few goods to enter, just to taunt us, to torture us.”
The sense of humiliation is pervasive. Mothers count the few shekels they have, knowing they will never stretch far enough to buy food. Fathers avert their eyes from their children’s hungry faces, ashamed that even when shelves are full, they cannot bring home a single meal. Every trip to the market becomes a reminder that survival is dangled before them but never granted.
The Israeli government, for its part, has pushed back against claims of famine. Last month, it launched a paid campaign on social media, releasing a video that declared, “There is no famine in Gaza. Any other claim is a lie.” The video showed food at restaurants and markets full of fruit and vegetables. The timing of this campaign was notable: it came just before the IPC officially declared famine in Gaza City. By then, at least 376 Palestinians, nearly half of them children, had already died from starvation, and the hunger death toll has since surpassed 400, according to Al Jazeera.
Israel has sealed Gaza’s crossings since early March 2025, preventing food and aid trucks from entering despite hundreds waiting at the border, as reported by the Gaza Ministry of Health. The ongoing blockade has exacerbated the humanitarian catastrophe, leaving residents without access to basic supplies. Meanwhile, the Israeli military campaign has killed nearly 65,000 Palestinians—most of them women and children—since October 2023, according to the ministry. The relentless bombardment has rendered much of Gaza uninhabitable, with starvation and disease spreading rapidly.
In this bleak landscape, some have tried to offer hope and resilience. Jordanian chef Yasmin Nasir, a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu in London, has gained international attention for her social media content. With millions of followers, Nasir posts recipes for Gaza residents using whatever basic ingredients are available: coffee from chickpeas, candies from sugar scraps, no-oven date cake without sugar or eggs, fries from ground rice, and green beans from cactus leaves. Her videos have become a lifeline for many Gazans, who replicate her dishes in an effort to make do with what little they have.
In July, Nasir posted a video in which she sliced a watermelon—a symbol of Palestinian solidarity since October 2023—into the shape of Israel’s map, draping it with a Palestinian flag and captioning it “Free Palestine.” In another video, she showed an empty pot and said, “I can’t imagine people starving in Gaza every day before our eyes while we sit, watch and can do nothing. But we can keep speaking and supporting, showing the world the truth about this ugly, merciless, murderous entity (Israel). Speak, don’t stay silent, Gaza is dying.” Her widely viewed content, while representing her personal views, has contributed to the global conversation about the crisis and further fueled debate around Israel’s role.
As the humanitarian crisis deepens, Israel has announced plans to cut off aid to northern Gaza as its military onslaught on Gaza City continues. International condemnation has been swift, but, as Al Jazeera notes, the world seems content to be consoled by images of Gaza’s markets rather than confront the harsh reality faced by its people.
With famine spreading, prices soaring, and hope dwindling, Gaza’s residents are left to navigate an impossible landscape—one where food is present but inaccessible, and survival is never guaranteed.