What was meant to be a day of relief turned into another dark chapter in Gaza’s humanitarian crisis.
On Thursday, the US and Israel-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) declared aid distribution exclusively open to women in a neighbourhood of southern Rafah, a gesture supposedly to offer dignity, security and priority to women in desperate need. Instead, chaos erupted. Women seeking food across Gaza on Thursday were met not with food and water, but with violence, humiliation, and, in one case, death.
According to Gaza’s Civil Defence, 45-year-old Khadija Mohammed Abu Anza was shot and killed by Israeli forces near a different collection point in the Al Shakoush area. She had been on her way to collect aid, like so many others.
Her death has sent shockwaves across the community, not only for the loss of life, but for what it symbolises: the growing dangers women face while trying to survive during Israel's war in the strip.
Um Mohammed Al Shaer, a mother of nine, left Khan Younis with hope, and returned to her tent in Al Mawasi empty-handed. “We were waiting for instructions. Sometimes they told us to wait, other times to leave. In the end, I left with nothing,” she told The National.
She described scenes of panic and confusion: “They sprayed pepper spray at us. The distribution is not organised. Some got aid, most didn’t. They said it was a day for women, that encouraged me to come. But if I had known this would happen, I never would have come.”
The GHF says it has delivered about 90 million meals to Gazans in two months and denied claims of widespread killings near its sites. Israel meanwhile says supplies are “standing idle” at border crossings and blames Hamas and the UN for stalling their delivery.
Violence and desperation
Raghed Abu Oda, 22, left her tent at 5am and walked more than 4km. Her husband and brother are both held in Israeli prisons. Inside her family’s tent, 15 people are crammed together.
“Hunger forced me to come here,” she told The National. “We are drinking water with salt. My son eats sand because we have no food. I can't afford flour. I came hoping for help.”
But she found no aid, only tear gas, sound bombs, and violence. “They treated us with violence. They humiliated us and filmed us. Do they want to show a false image to the world?” She watched a pregnant woman collapse after being beaten. “Only 2 per cent received aid,” Raghed said bitterly. “I will not come again.”
Sabreen Barbakh, from Rafah, arrived at around 6am with her mother. She managed to grab only a few cooking oil bottles that had spilt on the ground. “They fired at us. They tried to organise the crowd at first, but when that failed, they began firing sound bombs,” she said.
Um Haytham Al Bayook, 50, was knocked to the ground during the chaos. “The children sleep while hungry, this forces us to come, hoping to grab anything” she told The National. “They fired into the air to scare us. Women began pushing each other. I was knocked to the ground. Look at how people are being humiliated.”
Thursday’s event was announced as a gesture of compassion, a promise of order and care in a place where both have become rare commodities. But instead, it laid bare the deep flaws in aid co-ordination, the overwhelming desperation of Gaza’s displaced families, and the cruel reality that no place, not even an aid line for women, is truly safe.
“What should I cook for my children now? We go to sleep hungry,” Um Mohammed Al Shaer said. In a place suffocated by siege and war, even the hope of a single box of food has become a matter of life, death and dignity.
“This is my first time coming. My father came before, and he was shot in the head, we need this war to end and we need our humiliation to end as well,” Raghed said.
