Four-month-old Yousef al-Najjar lies nearly weightless in a Gaza hospital, his fragile body battling the cruel convergence of hunger, war, and abandonment. Born premature into a world shattered by siege and displacement, Yousef’s life is now suspended by a thin thread of intravenous fluids, as life-saving milk remains out of reach.

His mother, Najia, once held hopes for a normal life. Her husband worked as a blacksmith, their family had a home. Today, that life is gone—buried beneath rubble, unemployment, and Israel’s relentless blockade. Najia can no longer breastfeed due to her own malnutrition, and Yousef’s frail body cannot tolerate formula. The only milk that could save him has vanished from Gaza’s empty shelves.

With every passing day, Yousef’s story becomes another devastating reminder of the man-made famine tightening its grip on Gaza’s youngest. The siege is not just a political weapon—it is a slow death sentence for infants too small to resist. Najia’s voice, empty from exhaustion, echoes the agony of thousands of parents: trapped in hospitals, holding starving babies, and begging the world to care.

Yousef is not a symbol. He is a child. And in Gaza, children are dying not from disease, but from neglect—calculated, systemic, and heart-wrenchingly avoidable.