Winter used to be a beloved season in Gaza. It was thought to bring “khayr” and “baraka” – goodness and blessings. Children and adults alike looked forward to the arrival of the cold season for relief from the summer heat.
When the rain would finally come, children would rush into the streets, joyfully singing “Shatti ya doniya shatti, wa arawi kul al-aradi, li-yazraa al-falah khokh wa roman wa tufah” – “Rain, world, rain and water all the lands, so the peasant can grow peaches, pomegranates and apples.”
For water-stressed Gaza, the rains were indeed a blessing. Farmers would welcome them and start preparing for the new crop season. The markets would be full of locally grown vegetables like spinach, lettuce, carrots, cucumbers, and fruit like oranges, kiwis, persimmons and strawberries.
For city dwellers, the rainy days would be a time to relax at home, snuggling under warm blankets or gathering around a fire to make tea or sip “sahleb” – a sweet drink made of milk, starch, coconut shreds and nuts.
On the occasional night when electricity would be restored, families would cosy up in front of the TV to watch a movie or a soap opera.
On cold and dry days, many would venture out to the seashore, enjoying a stroll or meeting friends. The aroma of sweet grilled corn and chestnuts would fill the air. Many would also stop by the famous dessert shop “Abu Al Saoud” to have a warm kunafeh – either the nut-stuffed Arabian variety or the cheese-filled one called nabulsia.
These Gaza winters now seem from the distant past. Abu Al Saoud’s shop is no more. There are no cosy gatherings and sweet chatter, no sahleb, no TV. There are no children outside singing “Shatti ya doniya shatti” when it rains.
This year, winter did not bring khayer and baraka. It brought more suffering and utter despair.
The rains have been a curse. People are praying for dry weather, fearing what floodwaters could do to the camps for the displaced.
The sound of thunder has now become like the sound of bombs – it terrifies. Many Palestinians have nowhere to shelter from a storm. Aid groups say that at least one million people have no basic protection from winter weather.
Makeshift shelters are made from textiles, tarpaulins, blankets, cardboard and even old rice sacks. They can hardly withstand the wind and rain. At night, families are forced to stay awake, desperately holding their tents in place so they don’t fly away, while water seeps in from underneath, soaking their mattresses, blankets and other belongings.
Often, the shelters are so flimsy that the rain destroys them, throwing into despair families that had already lost everything. The price of tents and materials to build makeshift ones has skyrocketed, leaving those whose shelters are blown or washed away exposed to the elements.
Some have become so desperate that they return to their bombed-out homes to take refuge. Even if the building is so badly damaged that it can collapse at any moment, people remain in it, having no other choice.
Staying warm is also nearly impossible. Wood has become unaffordable for many; 1kg now costs $9. Those who cannot afford to buy it have to set out to search for it themselves – an exhausting, gruelling task. Even if there is enough wood for a fire, that is not enough to keep a family warm throughout the freezing night.
What makes the winter cold even more unbearable is the hunger. Since October, food prices in Gaza have skyrocketed. A bag of flour costs as much as $200. Meat and fish have completely disappeared from the markets; vegetables and fruit are scarce and at exorbitant prices.
Bakeries have closed because they have no supplies to bake. UNRWA and the World Food Programme, which normally provide for the most vulnerable, cannot cope with demand. Soup kitchens distribute meals of chickpeas, lentils and rice, but each family gets just one plate, barely enough for one person.
At night, in every displacement camp, the cries of hungry children can be heard as they beg their parents to give them food.
Memories of the warmth and joy that once filled homes during the winter in Gaza have faded. Despair and misery reign supreme in the cold. The suffering of the Palestinian people seems to have no end. So many survive on the flickering hope that the war and the genocide will end, that food will become available again and people will have proper shelter. That khayr and baraka will return to Gaza one day.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
