When the war began, Maher Haboush, a bodybuilding champion, coach and father of two girls from Gaza city, became a symbol of strength and resilience.
Once representing Palestine with pride, fuelled by six protein-rich meals a day and a body sculpted through discipline, Mr Haboush's current battle is no longer on the stage – it is the daily struggle to secure even the most basic meals for his family.
“At the beginning [of war], markets were open and we stocked up on food,” Mr Haboush tells The National. But within a month, the Israeli army’s entry into Gaza city made movement nearly impossible. Forced to relocate from the west to the east of Gaza city, Mr Haboush found some markets still operating, though at extortionate prices. Rice rocketed to 70 shekels a kilogram ($20), meat climbed to 100 to 150 shekels and flour vanished entirely.
By then, khobisa – a traditional dish made from an edible wild plant – had become their staple food. “We even crushed animal feed to mix with the little flour we had, to make bread,” Mr Haboush recalls. “That was our food through Ramadan. I used to eat six meals a day … at times now, I don't even eat one.”
Once a powerhouse at 100kg, Mr Haboush's weight plummeted to just 70kg. “I didn’t even want to look at myself in the mirror. If I had to comb my hair, I’d only check my reflection through the phone camera.”
Back in February 2024, when flour first started arriving in Gaza through the Karam Abu Salem crossing in Rafah, the sole operational border at the time, the deliveries fell drastically short of demand. Just two or three lorries managed to get through. Even though the population had shrunk considerably, with many already displaced to the south, the supplies still failed to meet the people’s basic needs.
This ordeal was not unique to Mr Haboush's family; his perilous trips in search of flour mirrored the struggles of countless Gazans. “People were shot at by tanks. Dozens died just trying to survive,” he says.
On Friday famine was officially declared in Gaza city and surrounding areas by the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), a rare and dire mark of suffering. More than 500,000 Gazans now live in famine conditions, and projections suggest that by September, about 641,000 could be affected.
Only four previous famines have been classified by the IPC since it was established in 2004, the most recent in Sudan last year.
Although aid lorries eventually brought essentials like pasta, lentils and rice into the strip, protein remained scarce. Mr Haboush had to get creative. He used powdered protein and amino acids to make nutrient-rich puddings for his children, trying to fill the protein gap.
In a final act of resilience, when there was absolutely nothing left, he turned to horse meat – a choice his family initially rejected but ultimately accepted. “The taste wasn’t different. The challenge was overcoming the horror of the thought,” he explains.
A brief truce in January brought momentary relief. Markets reopened, and meat became available again, though still at inflated prices. The truce was short-lived, and when aid access resumed, it was “inadequate at best, and deadly at worst”, Mr Haboush recalls. “I often bartered canned goods for flour or rice just to keep some semblance of food security.”
Like many others, he now stores canned food, determined not to endure the same hardship again. “This is a big suffering. Every day, I’m exhausted – not from workouts, but from thinking: how do I feed my family?”
His burden extends beyond physical exhaustion. It is a constant mental and emotional fight to ensure his daughters’ survival. With more than half a million people in Gaza trapped in famine, projections indicate that by fall, up to one million people could also fall under emergency conditions or worse.
Mr Haboush’s true championship is no longer measured by medals, but by survival. Every day is a battle for food, for his children, and against a famine the world has both acknowledged and failed to stop.
“It’s real suffering,” he says. “To dream of eating a piece of fruit or a vegetable feels almost impossible. My body is no longer the one I worked so hard to build. What worries me most is my children – how can they grow up healthy without even the most basic nutrition? They haven’t had eggs or meat for a long time, and even milk is no longer available.”
