In the heart of Gaza, where the scent of fresh bread has vanished and hunger looms over every home, families now grind dried pasta into flour — a desperate innovation born from starvation. With crossings sealed, aid blocked, and supplies vanishing, this besieged land is enduring a man-made famine under the shadow of war.

Enaya Ma'rouf, a mother of four, walks for hours each day to reach a small grain mill. Not to grind wheat — there’s none left — but to turn dry pasta into a powdery substitute for bread. Often, she returns empty-handed, the mill silenced by fuel shortages, her children waiting with hollow eyes and empty stomachs.

This famine is not caused by nature, but by a brutal blockade that has cut off food, water, and fuel from over two million Palestinians. For more than two months, Gaza has been starved deliberately, its people punished collectively behind closed borders. Aid trucks are parked in plain sight — but held back. Humanitarian organisations like the UN World Food Programme and UNRWA warn that their supplies have run dry. Flour, once a staple, has become a luxury.

With no options left, families grind pasta and lentils, knead with scraps, and stretch the impossible into something edible. “Pasta flour is the closest thing we have to bread,” Enaya explains. “We feared we’d have to grind animal feed again, like we did during the last famine.” Her voice breaks with exhaustion. “But this time, our bodies are weaker. We’ve lost too much. We can’t survive another famine.”

Like her, Ola Abu Hamidan has found herself turning expired pasta into dough, trying to bake some form of nourishment for her children. “It’s not bread,” she says, “but it’s what we have. We can't let our children sleep on empty stomachs again.”

As global powers debate and delay, Gaza’s people improvise survival — with courage, with dignity, and with whatever is left. But even resilience has limits. No child should have to learn the taste of bread made from hunger.