Shaimaa Eid
The Palestine Chronicle / June 8, 2026
How long will families remain suspended in uncertainty beneath the unforgiving summer sun and the flames of a war that continues to rage?
Gazan citizen Saif Al-Nasr al-Hibl, displaced from the Al-Manshiya neighbourhood in Beit Lahia, north of Gaza City, now sleeps on the sands of Gaza’s seaport under a worn-out tent that he bought on credit after failing to find any place to shelter himself and his family from the fires of war.
Speaking with anguish, he said, “The temperature inside the tent is unbearable. The only reason we came here is that there is no longer any space left to pitch a tent in Gaza.” He explained that he had thought being near the sea might ease the scorching summer heat during displacement, but instead, he found the opposite: “It’s hell here.”
Al-Hibl’s tent is far from an isolated case. Gaza’s seaport, once a recreational outlet for residents and a popular destination for seaside outings, has become a refuge for hundreds of displaced families from northern Gaza, amid dire humanitarian conditions and the near-total absence of relief services or humanitarian assistance.
Al-Hibl told The Palestine Chronicle: “Nearly a year ago, evacuation orders were dropped over our heads, and quadcopters called on us to leave the area. Then the artillery shelling and live gunfire began. I had no choice but to flee in order to save my frightened children. I could not find a place in any of the displacement camps or schools, so I decided to seek refuge at the port.”
Since the start of Israel’s genocidal war on the Gaza Strip on October 7, 2023, Saif al-Nasr has been displaced six times with his family. During that period, his home was partially destroyed. He attempted to repair it with basic materials and tarpaulins, but the occupation did not let it last long and forced him out of his home once again.
At the port, he and his family wash their clothes and kitchen utensils with seawater, while his children walk extremely long distances to fetch safe drinking water.
Across different parts of the port, despair, suffering, and poverty are etched on the faces of displaced people crowded into worn-out tents erected on sand and rocks under the harsh summer heat as genocide continues despite the declaration of a nominal ceasefire, alongside an ongoing suffocating blockade and the absence of even the most basic necessities of life.
Um Ahmed Taha, displaced from Jabaliya refugee camp, is the mother of eight children, while her husband has been held captive by the occupation for a year and a half.
“When I was displaced from Jabalia camp, I left a shelter school after a night that resembled the horrors of the Day of Judgment—fire belts, smoke bombs, and illumination flares,” she said, adding: “We walked through the streets of the north with no destination, until my displaced brother at the port called me and told me there was an empty space next to him. There, charitable people provided a tent to shelter me and my children.”
Um Ahmed describes her humanitarian situation as extremely difficult, adding: “We eat one meal a day, and sometimes we go through the day without food. My youngest son (18 months old) sometimes falls asleep crying from severe hunger.”
“My husband used to work for a daily wage to feed our children. Today, I am unable to meet even their most basic needs,” she continued. After a moment of silence, she broke down in tears, saying that the children sometimes go days without full meals due to the reduction in aid and the decline of charitable soup kitchens.
In turn, the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) warned that a lack of funding is forcing humanitarian partners in the Gaza Strip to reduce or suspend vital services.
In a recent statement, OCHA confirmed that funding allocated to the humanitarian response plan for Gaza and the West Bank has not exceeded 15 percent of total needs, estimated at $4.1 billion.
It noted that four humanitarian partners had begun, by the end of May, reducing water trucking operations, threatening more than 330,000 people with the loss of their main source of drinking water.
The number of daily meals distributed in Gaza has dropped to 678,000 meals, compared to 1.5 million meals per day in mid-March.
The statement pointed out that the majority of Gaza’s population of 2.1 million people remains displaced and heavily dependent on humanitarian aid.
Mahran Subaih, displaced from Ezbet Beit Hanoun in the northern Gaza Strip, oversees one of the displacement camps inside Gaza’s seaport, which includes 80 tents housing around 90 families.
He told The Palestine Chronicle, “Whoever has money here can eat. Whoever does not, has no choice but to watch his children go hungry. The crossings are open only in the media, but on the ground, there is a severe shortage of basic necessities and aid.”
“The situation at the port is extremely tragic. There is a severe shortage of clean water, food, and hygiene supplies, and some families spent nights without tents. They slept on the sand until we were able to provide them with used tents donated by charitable people,” he added.
Despite this, the occupation has not left them alone in their suffering. Just a few days ago, Israeli occupation aircraft targeted a group of civilians inside the port, resulting in the killing of two people and the injury of 25 others to varying degrees.
The recent bombardment that hit a group of civilians inside the port has increased feelings of anxiety among families, reinforcing the reality that there is no safe place in Gaza.
After the airstrike, many residents spent long hours checking on their relatives and neighbours and ensuring their safety, while a state of panic prevailed among children who were playing near the area.
Displaced people confirm that the fear of bombardment now accompanies them at every step, whether inside tents, while searching for water and food, or even during their gatherings on the beach to escape the suffocating summer heat.
Amid these painful scenes, displaced people in their miserable tents are asking: “How long will the world remain silent in the face of a tragedy that stretches across the sands of the port and the streets of Gaza? How long will it wait while children starve, waiting for a bite to sustain them? How long will families remain suspended in uncertainty beneath the unforgiving summer sun and the flames of a war that continues to rage?”
Shaimaa Eid is a Gaza-based writer
