In the heart of Gaza, where supermarkets stand empty and famine casts a long shadow over every tent and ruined home, families are being forced to abandon not just tradition but survival boundaries. In recent weeks, some have begun cooking sea turtles—protected creatures—to feed their children, a choice born not from culture but from desperation.

After more than a year and a half of relentless bombardment, siege, and forced displacement, Gaza has become a graveyard of normal life. There is no meat, no fish, barely any vegetables. Markets have nothing to offer. Humanitarian aid, once a fragile lifeline, has been blocked entirely since early March.

"We never imagined this would happen," says Abdul Halim, a fisherman who now finds himself catching turtles just to survive. His cousin Majida, cooking over a fire outside their shelter, explains, "It’s the third time we’ve eaten turtle. We told the children it tastes like veal. Some believed us. Others cried."

Eating sea turtles is neither a tradition nor a choice—it’s a symbol of Gaza’s descent into man-made famine. With nowhere to turn, people are left to scour the sea and land for anything edible. Even washing the meat—using vinegar and flour to clean what little can be salvaged—speaks of the collapse of dignity under starvation.

International organisations warn of famine, but for the people of Gaza, it’s not a warning. It is their daily reality. As the world debates statistics and ceasefires, Gaza’s families are simply trying to stay alive—one unimaginable meal at a time.