There is something worse than hunger in Gaza Israel’s conflict and the two

One morning I woke up to a group of messages that light my phone. Every news channel, every post on social media, every conversation beating cautious optimism. “Negotiations are progressing well,” declared addresses. A “imminent truce”, “a huge aid convoy is preparing to enter.

At that moment, we were deep in the labor of starvation. In some days, we never ate anything. You can imagine the cautious joy that is flashing in our hearts, and the way in which hope has traveled through our messages. Books to me, their words trembling with initial relief. “Could this be the end?” One request. “Will we remember what safety feels? Will there be bread?”

We dared to dream. We imagined the silence of the ceasefire, the taste of warm bread, and the rest of the meal. Some stores were reopened initially. Prices decreased a little. For the first time in months, the bread looked almost within reach. For a passing moment, life seemed to return to the streets.

In Gaza, even the most hit societies breathe differently when hope appears – even if it is for a few hours.

My neighbor – a widow of war raised seven children on their own, including the infant who cries indefinitely – how her children cry from the empty stomach while crying from the deficit. When the truce rumors spread, she dreamed of properly feeding it, and ending their suffering. Like all of us, I saw this hope disintegrating.

By the next morning, everything collapsed. New address, cold and final, our fate sealed: “Negotiations fail. No truce.”

The stores that were barely reopened were closed. The flour disappeared again. Prices have risen beyond hand. Outside Gaza, the media still talked about aid convoys “on their way”, but on the ground, there was nothing. Empty words. Empty trucks. My hands are empty.

You can imagine how hearts have broken on that day. How the soul of people who dream simply be crushed from bread. How mothers are desperately looking for food for their children.

The fragile hope that lit our eyes disappeared, and left nothing but hunger, fear and silence.

This was not the first time that this happened. It happened several times before. And he happened again after that.

Only last week, we found ourselves waiting, this time for one word from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu after Hamas accepted the ceasefire proposal. The uncertainty was unbearable. After several days of silence, the Israeli government made impossible demands, killing the latest negotiation attempt. We fell news in another course of despair, as hunger, displacement, loss and sadness affect their losses.

I think these repeated attacks of the ceasefire headlines are not unintended – they are another form of punishment for the people of Gaza. Another form of torture. We have been bombed, hunger, displacement, and then the news ends.

Hope hangs in front of us, just to be separated, which leaves us weaker every time.

It is a deliberate and methodological policy aimed at getting rid of the isolation population. He is designed to break our soul, to make us live in a state of constant uncertainty, to strip us of the basic human right to hope for tomorrow. This course – the hope that was raised and then shattered – leaves deeper scars of hunger.

While we are waiting for the news, hunger tightens its grip. Walking outside and you see that it is engraved on the faces: men wipe tears, women collapse in the streets of fatigue, and children are very weak to play. Hunger is not just a material – it is an unbearable weight that crushes the soul.

Mothers stop planning meals because they cannot count that they can put something on the table. Early children learn that good news is often disturbed in the morning. Families sell their last property when announcing aid, just to let them leave nothing when they fail to reach.

This repeated destruction generates more than the lack of confidence in governments and the media; It erodes the concept of hope. Many people no longer ask, “When will this end?” But “How worse is what it can get?”

According to the World Food Program, 100 percent of people in Gaza are now suffering from sharp levels of food insecurity, as all children under the age of five years face acute malnutrition. The famine has been officially announced.

Israel continues to claim that its siege measures prevent supplies from reaching Hamas, although the United States government – its largest ally – and Israeli officials themselves say there is no evidence of looting of resistance resistance.

Amnesty International calls on the Israeli siege in Gaza “collective punishment” and “the crime of war.” Geneva Conventions explicitly prohibit collective punishment and forced hunger.

Thus, I can only ask: Where is the world in all this? How can an entire planet watch, bomb them, strip them of dignity, and still do nothing?

This silence is heavy. It crushes the soul as much as hunger does. It tells us that our suffering is acceptable, and that our lives can fade without any result.

History will condemn those who committed these crimes, but also those who stood and allowed them to happen.

The opinions expressed in this article are the author of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the editorial island.