Published
Oday El-Meghari is the Executive Director of El Wedad, a Palestinian civil society association based in Gaza that works to develop and rehabilitate the local community in the areas of community development, capacity building, and psychological and social rehabilitation.
This is his story.
For 190 days, I lived through a war that defies description. The horrors I witnessed are beyond words, and I would not wish this experience upon anyone, not even my worst enemies.
I was in Gaza city when the initial calls for evacuation came, and the airstrikes began. My family and I were lost, not knowing where to go. The airstrikes were brutal, their impact indescribable. The sounds of bombings were terrifying, leaving us in a state of shock and fear. In those early days, I believed the war would be over quickly; surely it couldn’t continue at this pace without wiping everyone in Gaza out? Despite news reports claiming the conflict would last for months, I found that prospect unimaginable. But I was wrong.
As the days wore on, basic necessities disappeared. We had no water, electricity, or fuel. Food became scarce, and within 20 days, I had lost over 10 kilos of my body weight. All crossings were closed, preventing food trucks from entering Gaza. Soon, the food in storage ran out.
This was the hardest part, starvation. We survived on one meal a day. They say that “no one ever dies from hunger”; that is a lie. We ate beans and bread until the bread ran out, then we ate grass from the streets. This went on for months. During Ramadan, we survived on dates and water. When canned food did begin to enter Gaza, it was scarce and expensive. A banana cost more than $60, sliced and sold for $20 apiece. Food distributions were often disrupted by bombings. The airdropped food felt humiliating, like feeding chickens. Some people even died from the airdrops.
Hospitals were either out of service or destroyed. My brother, a doctor, had to use apple cider as disinfectant and coffee powder to stop bleeding. Major surgeries were performed without anaesthesia. Doctors often had to take the difficult decision of leaving those with slim chances of survival to die. Many of them older people. My wife has cancer, and there was no medication whatsoever for her.
Every storage space in Gaza was destroyed. During winter, rains demolished the tents, forcing continuous movement.
My father, who has lived through 76 years of occupation, said he had never seen anything as bad as this. All previous wars combined equalled one day of this conflict.
El Wedad’s headquarters in Gaza City were destroyed on the very first day of the conflict. This was a significant blow to us. With banks closed, we couldn’t work with suppliers or provide services. Our staff were forced to stay home and starve. No roads were safe, making it impossible for them to respond to emergencies. Eventually, as months passed, a few organisations, including El Wedad, began to function again, mainly distributing supplies from UNRWA.
But our impact was limited and short-lived.
Older people of Gaza are in desperate need of humanitarian support.
They face severe risks from conflict and displacement, including hunger, dehydration, illness, injury, and limited access to essential health services.
Older people faced four major challenges: lack of medication, housing, nutrition, and safety. These challenges were compounded by their specific needs, which made survival even more difficult. Many older people lost their homes due to the bombings and couldn’t move to safer areas because of physical limitations. Some died during these forced movements or while trying to survive in makeshift shelters, exposed to the harsh cold of winter.
Medications and vitamins, essential for older people, became scarce. This scarcity was devastating for those with chronic illnesses like diabetes, heart disease, arthritis and other conditions that require constant medical attention and treatment. Without access to medication, many suffered immensely, and some even died from preventable complications.
The psychological toll was equally severe. Many older people had already endured a lifetime of hardship. Having been born in a tent in a refugee camp during the 1950s, it was a cruel twist of fate to see them end their lives decades later in another tent. The constant fear, lack of security, and the sight of their community falling apart around them left deep psychological scars. Their trauma was exacerbated by the inability to protect and support their families, leading to feelings of helplessness and despair.
Nutrition was another issue – the food shortages affected everyone, with older people being particularly vulnerable. Many couldn’t queue for hours or fight for the limited food supplies, leaving them at a higher risk of malnutrition.
As people fled to the southern regions of Gaza, the overcrowding made these issues even worse. Areas designed for 90,000 people were suddenly home to more than 2 million. This extreme congestion made it nearly impossible for older people to move around, access services, or even find a safe place to rest. Walking the streets meant navigating a sea of people, often stepping over those who had collapsed from exhaustion or injury.
The lack of sanitation and piled garbage contributed to the spread of diseases, which older people are particularly susceptible to. Without proper waste management, the environment became hazardous, further endangering the health of older people who already had weakened immune systems.
Their suffering serves as a stark reminder of the broader impacts of conflict, affecting the most vulnerable members of society in more ways than one.
