Winter is no stranger to the residents of Gaza, but this year’s rainy season carries added weight, as it coincides exponentially with the fallout from the Israeli-Hamas conflict. Many families are attempting to navigate both the harsh realities of daily life and the challenges brought on by the cold weather. Their makeshift shelters, thrown together under pressure and often crafted from flimsy materials, seem woefully inadequate against the elements, particularly as heavy rains flood the areas where they seek temporary refuge.
Ramifications of the prolonged conflict have left countless families homeless, forcing them to seek shelter wherever they can find it—often ending up homeless and cold. Refugee camps littered across Gaza have become inundated, turning life within them grim. Displaced residents are now left to grapple with the constant menace of rising waters saturate their tents, turning what was already dire living conditions to almost unlivable ones.
Ayman Siam, one of these displaced individuals, recounts his struggle to keep his family dry at the Yarmouk sports stadium, transformed from recreational space to shelter for those fleeing the violence. "I'm trying to protect my tent from the rainwater because we are expecting heavy rain... Three days ago when it rained, we were drenched," he said, illustrating the desperate measures he takes to shield his loved ones amid impending rainfall.
The reality is stark. With around 2.4 million people living under blockade and experiencing multiple displacements, the rainy season, which typically stretches from October to April, has now become emblematic of their suffering. Louise Wateridge, from the UN agency for Palestinian refugees currently stationed in Gaza, warned of the catastrophic conditions awaiting many. Her words echo grim predictions: "It’s going to be catastrophic," reflecting the urgency of the growing humanitarian crisis as winter takes its hold.
Elsewhere, Hamedi, who had to leave Beit Hanoon, is less focused on the current rainfall and more optimistic about the prospects of a ceasefire. “I think the beginning stages might start in the next three, maybe four, days,” he said, perhaps seeking comfort amid hope for political resolution. His neighbor, Fadi, even chose to weave hope through desperation, mentioning how recent developments spotlight the negotiations possibly shifting toward peace talks concerning Gaza.
Beyond the immediate struggles of finding shelter from the elements, the intensifying rain threatens to exacerbate already appalling sanitary conditions. Destroyed infrastructure, coupled with the accumulation of waste overrun from shattered sewage systems, leaves children and families exposed and vulnerable. Unable to escape the putrid smell resulting from this combination, inhabitants are faced with unsanitary conditions and health hazards exacerbated by the lack of access to basic necessities.
While families scrabble to shield their lives from the rain, reports from humanitarian agencies indicate the prevalence of diseases likely on the rise, as floodwaters drown out residual waste, creating unsightly humanitarian hazards. Unquestionably, these circumstances continue to threaten the fragile health of the individuals enduring them. Amid all this, one must ask: how can this persist unchecked during the winter months?
The international community remains largely unresponsive as these tragic situations come to light. For those living on the frontline of the humanitarian crisis, where safety and survival are warranted at each moment, the sight of their fellow Muslims reportedly finding some relief with the ceasefire achieved between Israel and Hezbollah evokes feelings of resentment—many are seen questioning: "What about us?" The pleas and cries from people like Maysaa Khalil exemplify the sentiments rooted within the enclave. She firmly asked, "Why not stop both wars together?" Reflecting on her experience, her feelings of abandonment echo through the collective voice of displaced Palestinians, stirring emotions toward those perceived as forgotten by those outside their current human suffering.
Despite the glimmers of hope for others affected by the conflict, realities for them shift and morph continually. Conditions inside neighborhoods remaining under siege since early October have been described as "apocalyptic" by UN officials. The frustration among those who feel neglected rises as the different nature of international support often overlooks their plight. Mohammed Ismail, displaced from Gaza’s northern regions, pointed to the waves of air strikes continuing even at the onset of wet weather. “Throughout last night, the sound of Israeli strikes on the central region did not stop... Israel still wants to implement more plans, and there does not seem to be any real political and international will to stop the war, especially from the United States,” he said, speaking directly to the intense sense of despair felt by the families trapped within Gaza.
Meanwhile, the coordination between aid agencies struggles to improve access to necessities. Many humanitarian organizations based within Gaza highlight the tightening restrictions placed by Israeli authorities against the entry of materials deemed necessary for the shelters. A damaged tent, which ordinarily would require plastic sheets for remediation, now becomes prohibitively expensive, costing around 500 shekels for what otherwise should be accessible. Hussein, who works for one of these agencies, spoke of the prohibitive cost of simple commodities, emphasizing how families are instead forced to settle for unprotected options; cloth barely offers shelter from the chilling and damp air. The quest for survival eclipses any semblance of comfort as they fight the elements relying on old, worn-out fibers instead of viable sheltering materials.
Some relief—however tenuous—came from earlier discussions from various stakeholders pushing for humanitarian pauses to aid what remains of the beleaguered population, merely extending their suffering. Many displaced gaze toward leadership figures and wonder if their plea for life-saving aid will land on deaf ears. "We never guessed how bad the war would be," reflected Hussein, encapsulating the struggle of residents who once lived normal lives but are now victims of conflicts spiraling out of their control.
The story of Gaza stretches beyond these winter months; they do not signify the final chapter, but rather point to the necessity for action. This includes international acknowledgment and intervention. The allure of peace and potential negotiations must transition from mere narratives of hope to actionable steps. While families continue to battle rain-laden tents under increasingly heavy skies, the growing potential for international efforts to put pressure on political bodies could forge pathways toward long-desired accountability.
With the experience of rain-soaked, flooded tents framing their existence, perhaps it’s time for the international community to respond to the crisis with meaningful actions. Refugees—a community caught between survival, memories of their previous lives, and dreams for the future—stand resolute holding onto ideas of stability. Still, relentless rainfall shapes today’s demands; conditions must improve for Gazans who seek only the warmth of shelter and peace off society’s radar and reality of sanctioned warfare.
