Gaza’s hospitals are teetering on the brink. As of September 23, 2025, a dire fuel shortage has escalated into what the Health Ministry calls a “critical and life-threatening stage,” threatening to shutter essential medical departments and leaving patients—many already gravely wounded—with nowhere to turn. The warning, delivered in stark terms, underscores a crisis that has been spiraling since Israeli forces sealed Gaza’s borders on March 2, halting all crossings and blocking nearly all humanitarian aid.
The blockade has left hundreds of aid trucks stranded at the border. Only a trickle of shipments has made it through—nowhere near the 500 to 600 daily trucks that officials say are needed to keep Gaza’s population afloat. According to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), Israeli authorities continue to obstruct its convoys, compounding the desperation inside the enclave. UNRWA’s 11,000 staff members, despite the siege, remain the backbone of basic healthcare, water, and shelter for displaced civilians. But even their efforts are being stretched to the breaking point.
“Within days, essential medical departments may shut down, leaving patients and the wounded to face certain death,” the Health Ministry declared on Tuesday, as reported by Shafaq News. The ministry’s plea was unambiguous: unless immediate fuel deliveries arrive, an “unimaginable catastrophe” looms. Power-rationing measures—already stretched—cannot last much longer, and the prospect of hospitals going dark is no longer hypothetical. It’s imminent.
The latest violence has only deepened the sense of crisis. On September 23, deadly Israeli air attacks intensified in Gaza City, while ground forces advanced in the south, killing at least 29 Palestinians across the enclave, according to multiple reports. Palestinian media documented ongoing Israeli airstrikes across the Gaza Strip, with 22 people killed since dawn, including 18 in Gaza City alone. The Gaza Health Ministry’s figures are staggering: since the war erupted on October 7, 2023, Israeli military operations have killed at least 65,344 Palestinians and wounded 166,795 others.
For those trying to survive, the numbers are more than statistics—they represent loved ones lost, families shattered, and a healthcare system collapsing under relentless pressure. The Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Younis confirmed the deaths of three more children from malnutrition, pushing the starvation-related death toll to 450, including at least 150 children. The hospital’s staff, already working with dwindling resources, face impossible choices as supplies run out and the risk of infection and untreated injuries mounts.
UNRWA, one of the few remaining lifelines for Gaza’s civilians, has not been spared from the violence. Between September 11 and 16, the agency logged strikes on 12 of its facilities in Gaza City—nine schools and two health centers—while sheltering more than 11,000 displaced people. These attacks not only imperil the lives of those seeking refuge but also further undermine the already fragile humanitarian response. Despite the dangers, UNRWA’s staff continue to provide whatever care and support they can, even as their own safety is far from assured.
“Israeli authorities continue to obstruct its convoys,” UNRWA reported, highlighting the persistent barriers to delivering desperately needed aid. The agency’s warnings echo those of the Health Ministry, painting a picture of a population trapped between the twin threats of violence and deprivation. For many, the immediate fear is not just airstrikes or gunfire, but the slow, grinding toll of hunger and untreated illness.
The crisis extends beyond Gaza’s borders. In the West Bank, Israeli forces have tightened restrictions by installing new road gates to isolate several towns, further complicating movement and access to essential services. The ripple effects of these measures have left communities cut off from each other, deepening the sense of isolation and vulnerability.
As aid convoys remain stalled and fuel supplies dwindle, the specter of a full-scale medical collapse grows more real by the hour. Hospitals, already battered by months of conflict and chronic shortages, are now rationing power to keep critical equipment running. But these stopgap measures have limits. Without fuel, ventilators, dialysis machines, and neonatal incubators will fail, and the consequences will be measured in lives lost.
The Health Ministry’s warnings have grown more urgent with each passing day. “Patients are facing certain death as hospitals in the besieged territory may have to close vital departments within a few days due to fuel shortages,” the ministry reiterated, according to recent reports. The language is stark, but the reality on the ground is even harsher.
International organizations and humanitarian groups have repeatedly called for the immediate opening of crossings to allow fuel and aid into Gaza. But so far, those calls have gone largely unheeded. The blockade, now in place for more than six months, has created a humanitarian emergency that shows no sign of abating. The limited aid that does trickle through is a drop in the ocean compared to the scale of need.
For Gaza’s 2 million residents, daily life is a struggle for survival. Food and clean water are scarce, electricity is intermittent at best, and medical care is increasingly out of reach. The psychological toll—on children, parents, and the elderly alike—is immense. In the words of one UNRWA staff member, “We are doing everything we can, but it feels like we are trying to hold back the tide with our bare hands.”
In the midst of these hardships, the resilience of Gaza’s people stands out. Communities have come together to share what little they have, and medical workers have shown extraordinary dedication in the face of overwhelming odds. But resilience alone cannot compensate for a lack of basic necessities. Without immediate action to restore fuel supplies and open humanitarian corridors, the coming days could bring a catastrophe on a scale not yet seen in this conflict.
The international community faces a stark choice: intervene to prevent further loss of life, or risk being complicit in a humanitarian disaster that was both foreseeable and preventable. For now, Gaza waits—its hospitals flickering on borrowed power, its people hoping for a reprieve that has yet to arrive.