As Ramadan comes to a close, Palestinians say finding and affording food in Gaza a challenge
Rania Hegazy, 38, who is currently sheltering in a tent in Gaza City with her husband and three children, was ordered by the Israeli army to evacuate Beit Lahiya in northern Gaza last week.
"We're living on canned food. There is no clean water or proper hygiene," Hegazy told CBC News freelance videographer Mohamed El Saife on Thursday from the tent encampment.
"Last Ramadan was bad, but this one is even worse."
Nearly one month after Israel imposed a complete blockade on all aid and goods entering into Gaza, humanitarian organizations say their food supplies are dwindling as food prices are soaring. Hegazy said finding food to feed her family becomes more and more challenging each day, especially during Ramadan — a holy month where millions of Muslims around the world fast from dawn to sunset as a form of worship.
"It's been more than a year and a half of us being forced to move from one place to another. My children have suffered a lot," she said.
Mansoura Marouf breaks her fast with rice and beans along with a salad and pita bread Thursday, with her husband in a tent camp in Gaza City. Like many Palestinians in Gaza, they are relying on canned food and the little produce being shared by their neighbours. (Mohamed El Saife/CBC)
Eid — which literally translates to the celebration of breaking fast in Arabic and marks the end of Ramadan — is expected to arrive on Sunday. Hegazy says she has trouble knowing what to tell her children — who are between four and six years old — when they ask for clothes or toys.
"Eid? There's no Eid.
"My daughter asks me for a new outfit for Eid … something simple, a blouse or dress, but I am unable to get that for her," she says, wiping away tears.
Last year, the family was sheltering in northern Gaza where much of the population was ordered to flee to the south due to the heavy Israeli bombardment.
Hegazy says they break their fast with whatever they can find — oftentimes that's rice with some kind of canned food. On Thursday it was rice with beans next to a bowl of macaroni that another family in their tent encampment brought over to share with them.
"Today, we found a portion of rice, and thank God we did," she said. "During Ramadan last year, we could not find rice to eat — there was mass starvation."
Prices of food soar as supplies dwindle
Israel resumed bombing and ground operations in Gaza last week, breaking a two-month-old ceasefire amid rows over terms for extending it. Two weeks before, it reimposed a ban on humanitarian aid from entering Gaza. It says the measures are meant to pressure Hamas to release the remaining hostages. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has repeatedly threatened to seize territory in Gaza if the militant group refuses to return them.
Hegazi said before the war, families would typically hold gatherings and make meals during Ramadan — mostly with meats, salads and soups. She said they would prepare fruit platters and qatayef — a Middle Eastern dessert similar to a small pancake — often stuffed with cheese, cream or nuts, then fried or baked and drenched with syrup.
But prices of all foods have soared across the Gaza Strip since the blockade began.
Her husband, like many in Gaza, is unemployed, she says, with no way of making money during the war.
"Their father is sitting here. There's no work. There's nothing, we're just sitting here forced to move from one place to the next."
WATCH | Families say finding and affording food in Gaza becoming more challenging:
"I'm craving a salad and we can't even buy a cucumber or a tomato. But thanks to God for everything, what matters most is that my family is safe."
According to the the World Food Programme (WFP), the price of a 25-kilogram bag of wheat flour sells for up to $71 — a 400 per cent increase compared to prices before March 18.
Children drawing food in the sand
Last year, Palestinian Muslims in Gaza were in a similar predicament — under ongoing Israeli bombardment and scraping enough food together for Iftar during Ramadan, as supplies in the besieged enclave ran dangerously low.
Since Israeli airstrikes resumed last week, at least 855 Palestinians have been killed and 1,869 injured, according to Gaza's Health Ministry. Over half of those killed were women and children, the ministry says.
Abubaker Abed, a Palestinian freelance journalist, said children in Gaza are so hungry that they are drawing pictures of food in the sand.
"My friend told me today that he keeps watching food videos because he wishes to have a plate of meat or fish," Abed wrote in a post on X Tuesday.
Marouf, 52, sits with her husband to break their fast during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, in the tent encampment they are sheltering in Thursday in Gaza City. (Mohamed El Saife/CBC)
Thousands of Hamas-led gunmen attacked Israeli communities on Oct. 7, 2023, killing some 1,200 people, according to Israeli tallies, and abducting 251 hostages into Gaza. Fifty-nine hostages are still being held there, with 24 of them believed to be alive.
The Israeli campaign in response has killed more than 49,000 people, according to Palestinian health authorities, with thousands more believed to still be under the rubble.
Gazans again at risk of severe hunger, malnutrition
Hundreds of thousands of people in Gaza are again at risk of severe hunger and malnutrition as humanitarian food stocks in the enclave dwindle, with no aid getting through the borders, WFP said in a news release Thursday.
The United Nations agency said it has approximately 5,700 tonnes of food stock left in Gaza, enough to support its operations for two weeks at most.
"With the deteriorating security situation, rapid displacement of people, and growing needs, WFP has decided to distribute as much food as possible, as quickly as possible in Gaza," WFP said.
Palestinians receive bags of flour and other humanitarian aid distributed by UNRWA, the UN agency helping Palestinian refugees in Jabaliya, Gaza, on March 25. (Jehad Alshrafi/The Associated Press)
The agency said it currently supports bakeries making bread, kitchens cooking hot meals, and the distribution of food parcels directly to families, which are all facing "record low" stock inside Gaza.
Mansoura Marouf, sheltering in the same tent encampment in Gaza City with her husband, said they have been relying on neighbours who are sharing food with other families.
Early on in the war, the 52-year-old lost her only two sons, who between them left behind seven now-orphaned children.
"This is the second Ramadan we break fast in the streets, our backs are broken," Marouf said, who also hails from Beit Lahiya and was ordered to evacuate last week.
"My children died and we've been left scrambling for shelter. This Ramadan is just dark. This Eid is dark."
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IDF reservist at GHF's aid project: Far from perfect, but not a Gaza 'death trap'
MILITARY AFFAIRS: The SDS system is not the 'deadly trap" story from Hamas's Gaza Health Ministry data, but it's far from perfect. For the safety of civilians, the plan needs improvement. The truth about Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) aid sites has been grossly distorted, with a good-intentioned but flawed project seeking to alleviate the suffering of civilians in a war zone instead being represented by news outlets and NGOs as 'killing fields' in which IDF soldiers unnecessarily and indiscriminately shot Palestinians patiently queuing in lines. For a significant portion of my third tour in Gaza as an infantry reservist, I was one of the soldiers tasked with securing the area around a safe distribution site (SDS) in the south of the Strip. Leaving a war zone to come back to Israel means entering a different world, but I also found a completely different reality from what I knew was represented online. The narrative being circulated far from the field had familiar details warped to the point of falsehood, or factual but told without vital context. In warfare, it is just and necessary to avoid harming civilians as much as possible while achieving one's objectives. While it is chiefly the responsibility of the opponent to feed its population, it is righteous to try to relieve the pangs of hungry civilians – but without the counterproductive and conflict-lengthening move of providing succor to enemy forces. I did not see mass starvation in Gaza. Of the tens of thousands of civilians, there was no one close to the emaciated state of hostage Evyatar David. But as with every conflict, there is food insecurity. While there are many Gazans who can be seen in Instagram and TikTok videos with no shortage of food, they are likely those in the areas least touched by the war. Many Gazans live in unfortunate states, and the neediest among the internally displaced are desperate, facing malnutrition and even prolonged hunger. The strategy was made clear to us with briefings at the battalion and company level: With the contracting of the GHF, the IDF sought to prevent a severe humanitarian situation for civilians while avoiding resupplying enemy combatants through vulnerable and compromised aid organizations. The IDF believed that part of Hamas's control over the population and its remaining territory was through its near monopoly over food and other humanitarian aid items, and hoped the project would be able to disrupt the vulturous profit model of selling aid and squeezing civilians for international propaganda consumption. The belief that the GHF threatened Hamas governance and legitimacy in the Strip seemed to have been validated not only by the flurry of hyper-fixated news coverage and hit pieces but also by the steady increase of threats and violent attacks against foreign and Palestinian GHF aid workers. While the assessment about the need for and impact of an alternative aid system was proven, implementing the vision has been difficult because it has relied on the poor logistics of the IDF and placed soldiers in Schrodinger's battlefield. The area around SDS sites is still enemy territory, and there are still forces in play seeking to visit death upon our men. While Hamas and its ilk were largely routed from the area, we were still finding stashes of weapons, uniforms, and combat vests, and tunnels and suspected booby-traps were still being demolished. An enemy force that perfidiously removed its uniforms and concealed itself among civilians was still in play. At the same time that we were supposed to secure and hold ground, as with any war, soldiers were also expected to act as policemen and security in an area populated by civilians. Such is a task that soldiers were not trained for, and it operates along rules and sensibilities that are difficult to meet under the specter of war. Frustration of reservists Much of the frustration of reservists about the SDS sites comes from this uncertain dichotomy. What was expected was for soldiers to turn their steel against armed Hamas fighters, but instead, the military operation with an aid side endeavor had become a humanitarian mission with uncertain security expectations. Yet while this felt like no task for a soldier, it was difficult to argue with the results of hundreds of thousands of people having more consistent access to food. The GHF site we were tasked with securing was situated about a kilometer from an idyllic-looking seaside town that seemed to have been largely unscathed. It was also a few hundred meters from our outpost and the same distance from a bombed-out house on a hill that had been converted into a semi-occupied strongpoint. Aid seekers were supposed to travel down a road from the town to the SDS, leaving behind vehicles beyond a security barrier that also served as a marker for what not to cross when the zone and aid site were closed. Once at the SDS, aid seekers were intended to queue along one path to the site to receive aid and exit out a second to return to the town. Fences, barbed wire, and warning signs were placed to prevent civilians from entering military zones. We were also promised that a biometric system would be established to ensure people would not take more than needed, and terrorist operatives would be unable to visit without being identified. Yet no battle plan survives contact with the enemy, and more often than not, the great enemy of plans is not an opposing force but the friction of reality. Once the GHF site opened, a daily deluge of tens of thousands – if not hundreds of thousands – of Gazans would descend upon the aid in a scene comparable to that of a zombie apocalypse film. Columns of dust accompanied more people than could fit in most stadiums as they attempted to enter the site and grab aid. Most came on foot, but others rode on bikes, scooters, peddle carts, and makeshift horse- or donkey-drawn carriage contraptions. The road is just one avenue of approach, as, if unhindered, the Gazans would and at times did overrun the forward strongpoint and tear down barriers. The stories told by some of the more malicious news outlets about Palestinians being shot while peacefully queuing are ludicrous not only because live-fire warning shots were only employed on the extremely rare occasion that Gazans in the aid site yard deviated toward the closed military zone that was out of their way, but also because I never once saw anything resembling a line or queue. While it's impossible not to feel sympathy for the people who have to gather food in such a manner, the sites are controlled chaos, with Palestinian aid seekers constantly seeking to overrun the compound, save for the intervention of armed security contractors. The contractors use stun grenades to warn off belligerent men who attempt to enter the site in situations like when there are special distributions for women or children. Palestinian aid workers have also used mace to repel aid seekers who refused to leave the site. Desperation was not the only driving factor leading to such behavior. War profiteering, criminality, and Hamas oppression are also driving forces. It soon became obvious during the scrums for aid that certain items were being sought out. Trades and sales were being made in the SDS forecourt yard, and at times a bazaar was opened, complete with ramshackle stalls. If such a trade was being made in front of the GHF site, it seemed likely to us that more hoarding and black market trade was going on inside the town. While, when the SDS distribution was over, Gazans were supposed to stay beyond a concrete block boundary on the road, young men would risk the night to try to sneak as close as possible, many so they could get first crack at the best aid items. Some would dig trenches in the ground so they could sleep there without the IDF's knowledge. Some were probably motivated by the fear that if they didn't get to the site first, they wouldn't get anything, but the number of people who left empty-handed was nominal. Many likely risked entering a military zone and approaching an IDF outpost so they could get in and out as soon as possible and avoid theft and robbery by fellow aid seekers. We saw aid seekers steal from one another, and one site had a stabbing. Brawls over aid were not uncommon, and larger men could be seen waiting on the periphery, not joining the rush with the others. A group of boys who were detained for sneaking past the boundaries before dawn explained to interrogators that men on the edge of town would take their packages unless they came early. It was unclear whether these were just robbers or Hamas operatives. With Hamas issuing threats to anyone who took aid from the GHF, the rush and sneaking for food was likely also informed by terror. The safety and security concerns of tens of thousands of people barreling down on one point should be obvious to anyone living in a country like Israel, which saw both the results of a stampede crush in Meron and the human wave attack of October 7. It is necessary to maintain order in such a situation, so that there are no stampede deaths, which did occur at one GHF site, though during a panic when a security contractor was stabbed by a terrorist. It would only take a few hundred people, let alone a few thousand, to surprise and overwhelm a dozen soldiers, security contractors, or a nearby outpost staffed only with a few dozen reservists. This concern is even more profound at night, when Gazans attempt to sneak toward the aid site so they can be the first to get aid and secure the best products. Among the tens of thousands of aid seekers could easily hide a cell of terrorists for a surprise attack. Indeed, GHF personnel were wounded by terrorists when one of them threw a grenade from among the throngs of aid seekers. Near our SDS site, a Nukhba terrorist was detained from among aid seekers, along with two October 7 looters. It would only take a single terrorist to join the crowd and leave an IED in an often-used patrol route or position. If the site were to be overrun, then the safety of the aid workers would be jeopardized, as would the project. Allowing the site to be overrun would allow hoarders to take as they please, leading to many being deprived of aid. Worse, it could mean that undercover Hamas operatives could raid the sites with the ease with which they raid UN aid trucks. Like the need for humanitarian aid, the need for order and security was clear, but the means to achieve it were imperfect. The primary means given to our force was warning shots. While some news outlets have misleadingly characterized the standard operating procedure as deliberately firing at crowds, shots were almost exclusively warning shots fired at sand dunes and concrete barriers. From the first orders received until the last, it was emphasized to our reservist infantry unit that we did not want to kill any civilians, and otherwise would be counterproductive to the mission. Yet, at the same time, this operation was occurring in a war zone, with all the dangers that this entails, a detail those stabbing soldiers in the back with pens tend to forget or ignore. In some circumstances, if warning fire was repeatedly ignored by a person in a threatening trajectory, then live fire was directed at legs. Thankfully, I never had to employ this measure. On rare occasions, sniper teams did employ lethal force, such as against a machete-wielding man who ignored warning shots and entered our forward strongpoint. Our experience is in stark contrast to the idea propagated by certain actors that the IDF was commonly deliberately shooting aid seekers to death. The problem, however, is that warning shots are by nature a flawed and risky measure. Live bullets are live bullets, and any mistake or negligence can cost lives. If distance is misjudged, someone panics, the bullet skips, or the surface one fires at isn't as solid as presumed, then a warning shot can result in a hit. There are just too many rifles and too many projectiles in play for there not to be tragic accidents. I knew where each of my bullets fell, and never fired a shot if I thought there was a risk I would hit a civilian, but there is no doubt that at some of these SDS sites, terrible mistakes with live-fire warning shots occurred. I know of one mistake that occurred at our site. Many soldiers don't believe that they should be put in the situation by army brass where their only tool is so unreliable. Yet when these warning shots ceased to be employed for a time, the results were chaos. A video circulated online showing warning shots falling close to Palestinians, and when officers in offices saw the reality of the tool they were asking infantrymen in the sands of Gaza to employ, the practice was frozen while under review. As soon as the boundaries around the SDS sites stopped being enforced, the aid sites were overrun several times. One aid site saw GHF personnel injured in an attack. Aid shipments to the SDS sites were delayed or halted because of the insecure situation for the drivers and workers, and aid seekers who came to the GHF compound at the appropriate hours found that everything had already been taken. We tried to limit warning shots to designated marksmen and snipers, and the chaos was only rolled back by the resumption of warning shots. There is also the problem of an alternative to live warning shots that is suitable to a war zone. This was not a riot in a city street or by angry farmers in the West Bank, but still a battlefield. Rubber bullets or riot shields and truncheons require extremely close range with the target. Keeping in mind, again, the proven propensity for terrorists to hide among aid seekers and civilian populations, getting that close would put soldiers well within the sights of anyone who wished to harm them by way of rifle, pistol, knife, or grenade. Tear gas or skunk spray may come with legal problems, as they could be classified as illegal chemical weapons when used by a military force in a war. Elements of our battalion have attempted to use sirens and quadcopters to scare people off, and while sometimes successful, this can't be replicated on a large scale. Some teams have been used to try to catch trespassers, but this also comes with the danger of getting too close and being encircled by massive crowds. While we gathered significant intelligence about booby-traps and tunnels from those with terrorist affiliations, there is a limit to how many people we can detain at a time. The problems of the use of force and the aid seeking aren't simply a matter of lack of clarity. The GHF personnel speak to the Gazans all the time, and from a distance, tell them with bullhorns not to approach. We've tried to send back detainees with clear messages to other Gazans about not crossing the boundaries until the SDS is open. We've tried raising a flag on our outpost when the SDS is open. We've built additional barriers in fields so that it's more visible where the boundaries are. The idea proposed by some of the outlets was that some aid seekers were wandering into the closed or military zone at night. This is unlikely, given the clear topographic distinction between the urban landscape of their town and the long stretches of sandy fields leading up to the well-illuminated IDF and GHF bases. The reality is that there are profiteers, adventurers, and desperate people who are willing to risk their lives for financial gain or decent access to food. The reality is that even live-fire warning shots are treated with a cavalier attitude by some, acting as if it is a game because they know we are reluctant to shoot anyone. When the quadcopters fly over, they do little dances. There are times when a lack of clear communication does become an issue, when the scheduling is changed. While often well-meaning, expansions and additions to the GHF operations often result in confusion among the populace. Changing the time of distribution, even if it is multiple times a day, can create a lack of clarity on the expectations of when the Gazans can approach. When there were female hygiene product distribution hours, there was confusion by men about when they could come. Yet there is sense in the growing pains and trials of the GHF, as it attempts to figure out the best way to feed as many hungry people as possible. Opening multiple times a day and building more aid sites would result in less congestion and chaos. Flooding the market with products and preventing scarcity could undermine war profiteering and hoarding practices. The most vital glaring need is the biometric system that was promised, which would further prevent such practices. While the benefit of these sites is that any Hamas operatives can only grab as much food as a single man can carry, rather than commandeer and monopolize a truckload, a system to prevent access entirely would further degrade their logistical capabilities. The answer is likely not one of tactics, but rather strategy. Soldiers do not want to harm civilians, and do not want to have to deal with them in their endeavor to fight Hamas. This frustrating dynamic that we were never trained for should be avoided altogether by completely separating civilians from combatants. While the world might not like the idea, and it would require the IDF to reinvent logistics divisions and operations, the building of a closed humanitarian zone where civilians could be registered and filtered through without terrorists would allow them to live in peace without getting caught up in the fighting. Without civilians in regions held by Hamas, the fighting would be significantly less complicated. In such a humanitarian zone, food could be distributed without the need to trek through temporary humanitarian corridors, and could also establish the groundwork for a new governance structure for Palestinians without Hamas. The reality of the SDS system is not the 'deadly trap' narrative that has been developed from the data of the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry, but it is also far from a perfect situation, and for the good of innocent civilians, the plan needs to be improved. With the more recent changes in aid shipments since I've left Gaza and returned to civilian life, hopefully the situation has improved. Yet despite all the problems, people were getting fed by the SDS sites, and they appreciated it. Something that shocked me, and which the other news outlets didn't report, was the response of Gazans to IDF soldiers as they left the GHF compound. I don't know if it was genuine or a type of white flag, but Gazan aid seekers were waving, blowing kisses, and performing heart signs with their hands as they left. People in a 'killing field' wouldn't act like that. With all the matters that need to be fixed, at the end of the day, I did see smiling children with food. Solve the daily Crossword
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a day ago
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Inside an airlift to Gaza. Dropping aid from above and the desperate scramble below
OVER THE GAZA STRIP — The Jordanian air force C-130 Hercules cargo plane banked in a slow arc over the Mediterranean, pointing its nose toward Gaza for its approach — the final stage of the intricate ballet that is dropping aid over the war-ravaged enclave. Earlier, in a cavernous hangar at a Royal Jordanian Air Force base, soldiers from Jordan, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, United Arab Emirates and Singapore assembled to prepare the 79 tons of rice, sugar, pasta, tomato paste, dates and other basic foodstuffs set for the day's drop. Despite the sweltering heat, the soldiers stationed at King Abdullah II Air Base worked quickly, the hangar an ants' nest of activity as they secured 1-ton piles of aid boxes to pallets, wrapped them in protective fabric, then tightened the rigging before using a forklift to hoist a parachute above each one. No less active were the crews of the seven dark-gray C-130s arrayed on the tarmac nearby, their bellies open as loadmasters prepared the planes for their cargo. 'We have to get a 100% success rate for the drops,' said Phille, a Belgian soldier whose tattoos, muscular build and clean-shaven head belied the gentle way he spoke as he tied a low-velocity parachute to a pallet. He gave his nickname, in line with the Belgian military's policy. 'Everyone works in a chain, and knows exactly what they need to do,' he said. Despite all that effort, everyone at the base that day knew that the multinational air bridge to Gaza was a wildly inefficient solution to a problem that by rights should never have existed. Since March, Israel has kept the enclave under a near-total blockade, justifying the move as necessary to prevent aid from benefiting Hamas. The United Nations, dozens of aid organizations and Western officials have all rejected that claim and accuse Israel of deliberately starving the enclave's 2.1 million people. In May, Israel created, with U.S. assistance, the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation and charged it with delivering aid to Gaza. Aid groups and governments have excoriated the GHF's efforts as paltry, inefficient and haphazard. GHF's distribution methods, denounced as poorly planned and executed, have almost always turned deadly as Gazans trying to secure aid have died in the chaos or come under fire from Israeli forces. Health authorities in the Strip say more than 1,800 people have been killed near GHF sites, with rights groups describing the GHF's methods as 'orchestrated killing.' Israel and the U.S. insist the GHF is working. In the face of blistering international pressure and daily reports of deaths from starvation — aid groups said this week that more than 100 children have died from malnourishment — Israel allowed airdrops to resume last month. A number of world governments have signed on for air deliveries, their thinking being that some aid entering Gaza is better than nothing. But humanitarians generally view the drops as a last resort. The U.N. and aid groups say the best option is overland — a tried-and-true method that before the war brought 500 truckloads into the Strip per day from Jordan and Egypt. The contrast with air deliveries is stark. A truck carries 25 tons, but planes can handle only a little more than half that amount, and even less in the case of hot weather due to strain on the engines. Cost is another issue: Operating a C-130 cargo plane — the most common type of aircraft in the Gaza airlift — amounts to roughly $15,000 per hour of flight. A truck costs a fraction of that. The result is that an average food delivery by truck costs $180 per ton, while airdropping is a whopping $16,000 per ton, according to a U.S. Air Force study from 2016. Once the 18 pallets were loaded, the C-130 heaved itself into the air, then circled lazily over Amman, the Jordanian capital, while the pilots waited for Israeli authorities to coordinate their entry into Gazan airspace. Roughly 30 minutes later, the plane headed southwest toward Tel Aviv — the cue for the crew to secure the pallets to the long steel cables running along the body of the C-130 that would deploy the chutes once dropped. Loadmaster Mohammad clipped a line to the cable, then secured himself and waited for the green light as the plane flew over the Mediterranean and positioned itself for the flight somewhere over central Gaza and lowered its altitude to 1,500 feet. 'Ten minutes to drop,' the loadmaster said. The C-130's cargo doors yawned open, letting in a rush of sea air before Gaza came into view. Moments later, it emerged as a landscape denuded of all color save brown and gray and the occasional red-rimmed maw of a destroyed brick rooftop. Almost every structure appeared damaged or in ruins. It was a sobering sight. Though all of the crewmen had seen it many times — Jordan alone has run more than 150 airdrops since July — they pressed their faces to the windows to glimpse the devastated landscape. Dropping the aid is a delicate process. The attached parachutes have no GPS guidance systems, and though the pallets descend at a relatively slow 5 meters per second, their weight — 1 ton in most cases — makes them potentially lethal. This weekend in central Gaza, 14-year-old Muhannad Eid was crushed by an aid pallet as he ran toward it. 'We have to perform the airdrop as a surprise, so people don't gather below,' Phille said earlier. 'If we see people under the plane, we don't give the green light.' When the signal came, one line of pallets raced down the hold's railing, their chutes ripping open in a flurry of motion as they fell out of the back, one after another. The sound of the engines increased as the pilot climbed higher and swung his way toward the King Abdullah II Air Base once more. The parachutes floated down toward the coastline, not far from a cluster of makeshift tents, grapevines, fig trees and the outer edge of residential buildings. Waiting for them on the ground was a group of men and boys. Once they saw the parachutes' bloom, they sprinted toward the landing site. One of the pallets smashed onto the roof of a building. The rest settled nearby. That building was private property, but some of the men rapidly scaled the walls. Two reached the roof, cut the parachute cords and dragged down supplies. They divided them. Minutes later, they each walked away, carrying small shares. Not far from there, in al-Amer tent camp, dozens of families — about 50 in total — watched in despair. 'I'm an old man with 10 children and grandkids. What can these airdrops do for us? The poor, the elderly — they get nothing,' said Mutlaq Qreishi, a 71-year-old man displaced from the al-Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City, tears streaking down his face. 'It's only the strong ones, the looters,' he added. 'Every time I try, I can't make it. My wife just wants tea, some milk — anything from a can. Look at that pallet — it fell in someone's yard. People are fighting over it like wild dogs.' Nearby was Nasra al-Rash, 48, who was displaced from Gaza City with her three boys and two girls. 'We're not even allowed to run for them. Every time they drop food, we get nothing,' she said, a quiet rage in her voice. She added people needed a 'fair distribution system,' like the one used by the U.N. and other groups. 'This isn't aid,' she said. 'It's chaos. A performance for cameras. I've never received a single sack of flour, not one can of food, not a spoonful of sugar. We're being starved, tortured. Enough.' Four more planes appeared above and dropped their loads. Several of the pallets, residents said, landed on tents; others snagged on rooftops. Standing near her tent, Hanan Hadhoud, 40, shouted at the sky. 'This can't go on. I sent my kids to something — anything — for us. But the young men, they just push children aside,' she said. Now, when she sees the planes coming, she added, she and her family run from their tents. 'That's how we live now.' Its cargo dispatched, the plane with the loadmaster Mohammad made good time back to base. Though the distance to Gaza could be covered by air in 15 or so minutes, the trip had taken an hour and 50, at an estimated cost of $200,000 to $250,000. Mohammad and the other crewmen secured the loose rigging and packed their equipment before walking to their pickup truck for the ride home. They drove off, giving one last look at the plane as the ground crew scurried around, readying it for the next day's drop. In the hangar, the ballet started anew. Times staff writer Bulos reported from Jordan. Shbeir, a special correspondent, from Gaza.
