Winter in Gaza:
A new war devours the tents of the displaced

On the shores of Al-Mawasi in Khan Yunis, Palestinians are entering yet another harsh chapter in their ongoing tragedy. With the first heavy rains of winter, the worn-out tents that had sheltered displaced families since the beginning of the war turned into shallow lakes, submerging the few belongings they still possessed.

The sight of flooded camps sinking into the sand was sadly predictable. Still, it laid bare the sheer magnitude of the humanitarian collapse that hundreds of thousands have endured for more than two years.

Amir Abu Shamala, a father of five, recalls the first moments of the storm that swept through his tent. “It was a harsh and unexpected winter wave. We were completely flooded,” he said. “Our mattresses and belongings got soaked. My children caught colds and suffered stomach aches from the extreme cold.”

His voice carries both helplessness and anger as he continues: “If this is just the first storm, what will happen in the coming days? We’re living in damp, freezing air, and we don’t have enough blankets. I don’t know how I’ll protect my children.”

Not far away, Ibtihal Abu Ghali is raising four children and caring for her elderly mother alone in another fragile tent.

“I play the role of both mother and father,” she says. “I woke up to my children screaming as the tent tore apart and water rushed in. We sought shelter in a neighbor’s tent until morning. This tent is uninhabitable, but we have nowhere else to go.”

She pauses, then adds quietly, “We lost our home in Rafah two years ago. Every winter, the same pain returns. My children shiver the whole night.”

The same scene unfolds in Deir Al-Balah, where the Khalidi family — father, mother, and three daughters — struggles through the storm. Their father, Mohammed Khalidi, asks, “Where are the promises to increase aid after the ceasefire? Our tent is torn, and the cold bites into our children’s bones. I tried to rent a house, but the prices are impossible.”

Across the long stretch of coastal camps, the suffering goes beyond waterlogged tents. Skin diseases and respiratory infections are spreading rapidly among children, fueled by constant humidity, poor ventilation, and a complete absence of healthy living conditions. Fuel for heating is nonexistent, forcing families to burn wood — filling the tents with choking smoke and causing further illness.

Akram Bakhit, a volunteer in one of the camps, says dozens of families have pleaded for new tents or thick plastic sheeting, but supplies arriving in Gaza remain scarce and insufficient. “We are trying to prepare for the coming weeks of rain,” he explains, “but resources are almost nonexistent.”

Between a pitiless winter and shelters unfit for survival, Gaza’s displaced remain trapped — exhausted by war and now threatened by cold. Despite repeated promises of increased aid, the reality remains unchanged: thousands will face the coming days without adequate shelter, protected only by fraying tarps and thin fabric that cannot keep out rain, wind, or despair.

–Shaimaa Eid is a Gaza-based writer. She contributed this article to the Palestine Chronicle.