In the shadow of bombs and siege, Gaza’s children are slowly starving to death. After months under total blockade, the Strip is witnessing a silent collapse of childhood — not through explosions, but through hunger.

Hospitals once meant to heal are now shelters for the starving. At Friends of the Sick Hospital in Gaza City, seven-year-old Mai Abu Arar lies motionless, her limbs too weak to move, her voice lost. Her mother holds her with trembling hands, afraid her touch might break what’s left of her daughter’s fragile body. There is no milk, no meat, no eggs. The markets are barren, and the crossings remain sealed.

In Deir al-Balah, four-year-old Elias deteriorates daily. His brief moment of recovery during a short ceasefire has faded with the return of fighting. Now, he survives on expired canned food from overwhelmed charities. Six-year-old Farah, barely weighing seven kilograms, vomits what little food she receives. Her skeletal frame, a visible mark of Gaza’s starvation crisis, draws stares and cruel words from others.

Since March, over 12,000 cases of malnutrition have been recorded in Gaza — many children are now too weak to walk or even cry. The basic food and medicine needed to treat them cannot enter. Aid is blocked. The siege holds. And the world, it seems, has stopped watching.

Doctors and rights groups have warned that this is not a crisis of numbers — it is a collapse of an entire generation’s health. Over one million children are malnourished. Some will not survive. Others will carry lifelong damage in their bodies and minds.

The silence around Gaza’s hunger is deafening. These children are not victims of famine; they are victims of war. And they are waiting — not just for food, but for the world to care.