As the call to prayer fades into the night, Karam Abu Haloub and his family sit among the rubble of their destroyed home in northern Gaza, breaking their fast in an atmosphere far removed from the warmth and tradition of Ramadan. Instead of gathering around a dining table in the comfort of their house, they eat in the open, surrounded by the ruins left by months of relentless Israeli bombardment.

Ramadan, a time meant for spiritual reflection and communal solidarity, has turned into a daily struggle for survival. “We used to welcome Ramadan with joy, preparing food and sharing it with neighbours,” Abu Haloub said. “Now, there is no proper food, no water, and no safe place to pray.” With most of northern Gaza reduced to debris, families like his are left to fend for themselves in makeshift tents, exposed to the cold and sand, while aid remains scarce due to the ongoing blockade.

His wife, Faten, tries to maintain a sense of normalcy, cooking what little they have over an open fire. “We manage with scraps, but it is not enough,” she said. “At suhoor, there is often nothing but water. The nights are the hardest—dark, freezing, and unsafe. But we have no choice but to endure.”

Despite the destruction and forced displacement, the Abu Haloub family refuses to abandon their land. “Every day, we sit here, among the remains of our home, because this is where we belong,” Karam affirmed. “The occupation wants us to disappear, but we will not leave.”

For thousands of Palestinian families in Gaza, this Ramadan is one of hardship, grief, and resilience. Yet, even in the face of overwhelming devastation, their defiance remains unshaken.