In Gaza, even flour is soaked in blood. Each meal comes at the price of a life. Hunger has become a battlefield, and food—a weapon of war. Amid bombed hospitals, the spread of disease, and a suffocating blockade, Israel continues its campaign of starvation with chilling precision, punishing those who dare to survive.

Fayez Abu Samra was only 15, the only son of his family. He ventured out under the roar of fighter jets, hoping to bring back a bag of flour for his four sisters. He never returned alive. His grieving father carried his body home, weeping as famine devoured the Strip and the world looked away. Fayez was one of many. In just a few hours, another family—father, son, and brother—were all killed while searching for food.

The tragedy repeats itself daily. Six more people were killed on Friday in an Israeli airstrike on a charity kitchen operated by Qawafil Al-Khair. More than two dozen such kitchens and dozens of aid centres have been destroyed since the start of the war, reducing Gaza’s ability to feed itself to almost nothing.

The horror recalls the massacre of 29 February, when Israeli forces opened fire on starving civilians gathered for food aid on Al-Rashid Street, killing over a hundred and crushing others under tanks. That massacre haunts a population where 91% now face extreme food insecurity, and where mothers watch their children waste away for lack of nourishment.

While trucks loaded with food and medicine remain blocked at the border, the message is cruelly clear: in Gaza, starvation is not an accident—it is a policy. And still, the world does not move.