Gaza City – Ten-year-old Youssef al-Najjar’s daily dawn trek, barefoot and clutching a damaged pot, to a communal kitchen in Gaza City often ends in disappointment. He finds himself amidst hundreds of others, all desperately seeking sustenance.
“People jostle because they don’t want to miss their turn. Some young children fall,” Youssef whispered, his voice barely audible in the chaotic crowd.
Thousands of Gazans, many of them children, are relying on these communal kitchens for their families’ survival. The humanitarian crisis in the region has drastically worsened since Israel reportedly barred aid from entering Gaza on March 2nd, just days before the resumption of its military offensive following a failed truce.
The UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) warned on Friday that it had distributed its “last remaining food stocks” to these kitchens, as supplies dwindle rapidly.
For Youssef, the burden of responsibility fell upon him after his father was killed in the conflict. His dreams are not of toys or games, but of a simple meal shared peacefully with his mother and sister. This hope drives his daily journey to the communal kitchen.
“Sometimes, in the chaos, my pot slips from my hands, and the food spills onto the ground,” he recounted to AFP. “I return home empty-handed… and that pain is worse than hunger.”
AFP footage from a Gaza City communal kitchen depicts a scene of desperation, with numerous boys and girls crammed outside, pushing their pots and pans forward in a desperate attempt to secure any available food. In one instance, a young man was seen striking a child approaching a container of freshly cooked rice with a metal saucepan.
Mohammed Abu Sanad, a displaced Gazan at another similar facility, lamented, “I have been waiting for more than five hours to get a plate of rice for the children to eat. We eat if we obtain food from the free kitchen, and I don’t have any money. We’ll starve to death otherwise.”
The World Food Programme, a primary provider of food aid in Gaza, anticipates food shortages in these vital kitchens “in the coming days.”
For 42-year-old Aida Abu Rayala, the need is more urgent than ever. “I have no bread, no flour, and no means of providing for my kids,” said Rayala, who hails from the Nuseirat neighborhood in central Gaza. “We stand for hours under the scorching sun and sometimes in the freezing cold. Some days, after hours of waiting, the food runs out before my turn comes.”
After her house was damaged in an airstrike, Rayala’s family now lives in a makeshift tent made of thin nylon sheets. One day, after enduring three hours of standing, her feet blistered. When she finally reached the counter, there was no food left.
“My hands were empty when I returned home. When my kids wept, I prayed I would die right then and there so I wouldn’t have to see them go hungry again,” she recounted with anguish.
At the heart of Gaza’s dwindling food aid efforts is Faten al-Madhoun, 52, a volunteer cook managing a charity kitchen in Beit Lahia, northern Gaza. With limited resources – no adequate kitchens or modern appliances – she and her 13 volunteers prepare meals by hand over wood fires.
“Some days we prepare 500 meals, but more than 600 people show up,” Madhoun explained. “There is a huge demand. And it just gets worse the longer the borders remain blocked.”
For tens of thousands of Gazans, these communal kitchens are now their only source of food, as wheat has vanished from markets, bakeries have closed, and even basic vegetables have become a luxury.
In the southern Khan Yunis region, Alaa Abu Amira, 28, a former resident of Beit Lahia, faces a similar struggle. “There is no food if you arrive late, even by a few minutes,” he said. “People push, throng, and tumble. One time, a small girl got burnt when a pot of hot food fell on her, and I saw another kid be hurt.”
When he does manage to get a meal, it is often cold, bland, and monotonous – partially cooked rice over makeshift wood fires, canned peas and beans. “Our stomachs can hardly bear it anymore, but what are our options? Everything is broken by hunger,” Abu Amira stated bleakly.
Despite the daily hardship, Rayala remains determined. “I’ll attempt to go early tomorrow in the hopes of getting a dish of rice. All we want is to live with honor,” she pleaded.
