Gazans suffer heightened anxiety as ceasefire talks stall during Ramadan
Gaza, March 3 (IANS/WISHAVWARTA) Amid widespread devastation and family losses, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip welcomed this year’s holy month of Ramadan with heavy hearts and weary bodies, following 15 months of Israeli assault on the besieged enclave.
While Muslims around the world welcomed Ramadan with prayer and festivity, the scene in Gaza tells a different story.
Gaza’s streets, once vibrant and full of life, now lie in ruins. The rubble of destroyed homes stands as a haunting reminder of the devastation, while the air is thick with the smell of gunpowder, death, and decay.
With the first phase of the ceasefire between Palestinians and Israel having ended on Saturday and no sign of a second phase, Gazans now live in heightened anxiety, fearing the war could resume at any moment, Xinhua news agency reported.
“Every day that passes without shelling brings a sense of relief. But at the same time we live in fear that the attacks will start again,” said Om Mohammed al-Najjar from Khan Younis, southern Gaza. She lost her home in the recent bombardment.
“We have suffered enough. Ramadan should be a time of peace, but here, there is no peace,” she said.
Mohammed Al-Dahdouh, a 45-year-old father of four from Gaza City, recalled how his family joyously decorated their home with lanterns and vibrant colors. The kitchen would be filled with the delicious aroma of maqluba and qatayef, traditional Middle Eastern dishes, and laughter would echo throughout the house.
“Ramadan used to mean family gatherings around the iftar table, the sound of children’s laughter, and the smell of food filling the house,” Al-Dahdouh told Xinhua. “Now, there is no home, no table. We are crammed into a small tent, and the food we have barely suffices,” he added.
“We cling to life because we have no other choice. We are people who love life, and we have the right to live in peace and safety,” he said.
In the northern Gaza town of Beit Lahia, Suzanne Abdel-Ati strolls between the tents standing on open land, exchanging greetings with her new neighbours, most of whom are displaced like herself.
“During the war, the army killed my entire family, and now I am left with only two children,” Abdel-Ati told Xinhua.
She recalled the days when her family would gather each night to break the fast. “Now, they lie beneath the earth,” she added quietly.
Tasaheel Nassar, a Palestinian woman from Rafah city who lost her husband, brothers, and parents in an Israeli airstrike, told Xinhua, “The holy Ramadan month has lost its spirit here in Gaza. There are no lanterns, no decorations, no bustling markets. Instead, there is death’s silence and the ever-present smell of destruction.”
“Our loved ones are gone, and we no longer have the strength to carry on,” she said, adding, “The pain is constant, and now it is worse because the holy Ramadan month brings memories of the family I lost.”
Some Gazans choose not to surrender. Thirty-five-year-old Arkan Radi from Deir al-Balah in central Gaza, along with his friends, has hung some Ramadan decorations in their tent.
“We know that the decorations won’t change our reality,” Radi says, “but they are a message that we are still here, still holding on to life, even in the darkest times. It’s not a solution, but I want to bring some hope and joy to my children.”
—
