Strands of Ramadan decorations hang among the ruins, little lanterns and string lights appear on streets lined with collapsed buildings and piles of rubble, bringing some joy and respite to Gaza’s people who seek life.

 

Their joy is stifled, they miss the martyred, the missing and the detained.

 

For Muslims worldwide, Ramadan is a time of prayer, reflection, charity, joyful evening meals, and all what Gazans wish for in this year’s Ramadan is an end to the killings after the two years of war and the fragile ceasefire deal.

 

It is a hope shared widely across the Islamic world, where the thoughts of many are with Gaza in this year’s fasting month.

 

Nearly all of Gaza's 2.4 million residents were displaced at least once during the more than two years of war between Israel and Hamas, sparked by the latter's unprecedented October 7 attack on Israel.

 

Most of the Gaza Strip has become a hellscape of bombed-out neighborhoods, crumbled buildings, ruins and mass graves dug in the sand.

 

Ramadan in Gaza has always been a special month, where the nights are illuminated by lanterns, markets bustle with life and mosques echo with the sounds of Taraweeh - prayers at night bringing people together from all walks of life.

 

It is a time when the values of love, solidarity and generosity are most evident, as families gather around the Iftar table and children eagerly await the Maghrib call to prayer, running through the alleyways with their small lanterns.

 

But this year, like last year, Ramadan is not the same, because of Israel's devastating war.

 

Streets that once teemed with passersby and shoppers are now, deserted, covered in dust and rubble. The once-thriving markets have become ruins, and the shops have been reduced to piles of stones. Vendors can only sell what little they manage to acquire on small street stalls, as customers stare at prices that no longer match what they can afford.

 

The sounds of life that used to fill the places have turned into a heavy silence, occasionally broken by the roar of Israeli warplanes that never leave Gaza's skies.

 

Mosques would be filled with worshippers, their hearts at peace as they sought solace in prayer. Children played in the streets late into the night, full of excitement—instead of fearing Israeli bombings or the menacing hum of drones that are now an inseparable part of daily life.

 

Despite its simplicity and even hardship then, life in Gaza was once full of light and hope, and Ramadan was a time that united everyone in moments of fleeting peace.

 

Since Oct. 7, 2023, Israel’s military offensive has killed more than 72,000 Palestinians, according to Gaza’s Health Ministry, caused widespread destruction and displaced most of the territory’s residents.

 

Besides, more than 600 Palestinians have been killed since the declaration of the ceasefire on October 10, 2025 .

 

Most families in Gaza are now either homeless, living in the streets or crammed into small tents, making it impossible to observe the Ramadan traditions they once cherished. Gaza's once-vibrant spaces have turned into places filled with suffering, as a simple Iftar meal has become a distant dream for many.

 

Tables are no longer filled with an abundance of food, meals have become scarce, water, difficult to find and markets stand empty, except for a few overpriced essentials. People wander through the rubble searching for sustenance, while children struggle to adapt to a harsh reality they have never known before.

 

Every meal prepared is now an achievement, and every bite shared among family members is a testament to unyielding patience and resilience.

 

Ramadan has become a time to remember the dead rather than celebrate life.

 

Many mosques have been destroyed or are packed with displaced families while the people of Gaza continue to pray in open courtyards, lighting the candles of faith amidst the darkness of war.

 

Every prostration under Israel's renewed bombardment is an act of defiance, and every prayer performed among the ruins is a declaration that Gaza, and that Palestinians, will never be broken.

 

The aroma of food that once filled the air has been replaced by the stench of destruction and smoke. Vendors complain about the lack of customers, as even those who make it to the market can barely afford the essentials. With Israel's blockade tightening and once again humanitarian aid cutoff, fear of the future looms over everyone.

 

Ramadan in Gaza has become a month of agonizing anticipation, where people wait for aid as they wait for death—unsure of which will arrive first.

 

Every bite they eat in Ramadan is a blessing, and every prayer they offer is a glimmer of hope.

 

They do not know how this month will pass, but they know that they will not surrender.

 

In the face of devastation and sorrow they will continue to pray, and they will continue to hold onto life because they believe that dawn will come one day and Ramadan which remains “special” will return as it once was.