Gaza: The Sad End of Ramadan Gasping Under the Ashes

In past years, as the final hours of the month of fasting approached, Gaza presented a scene of a radiant city that never slept. Its streets and alleys sparkled with colorful lanterns, the pulpits and niches of mosques were illuminated by the throngs of worshippers, and the courtyards of homes were fragrant with Iftar feasts and the warm gatherings of relatives and friends. But today, all these scenes have faded like a bygone dream. The cruelty imposed by the occupying Israel and the long siege have disfigured the face of the Gaza Strip. This sacred month of peace and mutual affection has now turned into a heavy season, where every moment of worship is mixed with anxiety, and where traditional feasts have been replaced by charitable soup kitchens and long, longing queues of hungry and thirsty fasting people outside kitchens.
This is the third consecutive year that Ramadan in the Gaza Strip has dawned under the shadow of a bloody and devastating war, which has turned houses into piles of rubble and infrastructure into ashes. The ongoing genocide of Palestinians by the occupying Israel has pushed more than two million people into a dire humanitarian crisis, rarely seen in human history. Although the oppressed residents here hoped that perhaps a ceasefire agreement could alleviate their suffering, the ground realities are still extremely bitter and unspeakable. The continuous provocations and violations of agreements by the occupying Israel have enveloped daily life in a shroud of severe uncertainty and fear.
In this atmosphere of sighs and sobs, those Iftar feasts are no longer set up, where the whole family used to gather, nor does the aroma of mothers' homemade dishes linger. Today, thousands of families are waiting for the limited food from charitable soup kitchens for their survival, because purchasing power has been exhausted and all sources of livelihood have been sacrificed to the cruelty of the occupying enemy.
In a refugee camp west of Gaza City, Abu Samer Al-Khatib sits motionless outside his tent, awaiting the relief food he receives daily from a charitable soup kitchen. Before this bloody war, he was a prosperous businessman who wished his table to be filled with the joy of children and grandchildren, but today fate has changed everything. His wife, Umm Samer, says that Ramadan no longer brings the joys that have been an asset to this family for decades. Recalling the past in a choked voice, she says that we used to prepare for this holy month weeks in advance, decorate the house with lanterns, and host relatives, but now we have nothing left but those memories. She says that family members have scattered in different parts of the Gaza Strip, and the martyrdom of many loved ones during this war has taken away the "joy of Ramadan" forever. With tearful eyes, she says that we no longer choose food, but wait for the handout that we get to stay alive.
In the eastern neighborhoods of Gaza City, where death hovers overhead at all times, life is a constant struggle to maintain the continuity of breaths. Laila Abu Al-Abad, who lives there, says that this year Ramadan is passing in constantly frightened moments. Her husband has been in the custody of the occupying Israel for several months, and she longs for the mosques where she used to go for Taraweeh prayers and religious gatherings. Most of the mosques in the area have been martyred by the occupying enemy, due to which the spiritual atmosphere of Ramadan has now shrunk into the narrowness of tents. Laila says that the nights are no longer peaceful, because the ominous sounds of drones in the air and continuous firing are leaving deep wounds on the innocent minds of children. She says that children are more frightened by these terrible sounds than waiting for Iftar.
Among all these calamities, the deepest wound is the separation of those loved ones who are no longer in this world or are missing. Muhammad Al-Hajj, a father of three, is heartbroken every day at Iftar when he sees the empty chair where his son Karim used to sit. Karim went missing several months ago during an attack and no information has been received about him so far. The grieving father says that Karim was most active in the last ten days of Ramadan and used to arrange for the recitation of the Quran and Qiyam al-Layl (night prayers) in the house. His younger sister still keeps his Quran next to her bed, hoping that one day her brother will return and resume his recitation from where it was interrupted. According to human rights organizations, thousands of Palestinians are still missing in the Gaza Strip, which is the most painful aspect of this genocide.
The month of Ramadan is coming to an end, but for the people of Gaza, this month has proved to be a long series of losses and difficult memories. All the traditions and joys that were characteristic of this month have now become a thing of the past, and they have been replaced by the struggle to save lives and find a morsel of food. However, despite all these atrocities, the honorable residents of Gaza are holding on to the spirit of this blessed month with patience and prayer, and are hopeful that a morning will come when this desolate city will smile again with all its splendor, markets and full tables.