In the heart of Gaza’s ever-deepening humanitarian catastrophe, the death of Alaa Moussa Mawdud, aged 36, paints a harrowing picture of life under siege — where even the pursuit of basic sustenance can lead to death. Known for her fear of airstrikes and her quiet nature, Alaa ventured from her displacement tent not for protest or defiance, but simply to fetch a bag of flour for her hungry family.

Escorted by her mother, stepmother, and two younger relatives, Alaa journeyed from western Gaza City to the ruins of their home in Shejaiya. Her decision surprised many; as someone deeply shaken by the constant bombardment, she typically avoided danger. But this time, she insisted on going — determined to protect her brothers from the risk. Her parting words to her sisters were chilling: “If I return, I return. If not, I don’t.”

As they made their way back, the group became separated. Alaa lagged slightly behind, carrying the flour and her sister’s clothes, with her young cousin by her side. It was in that brief window that an Israeli quadcopter drone targeted her. Her mother, who had walked ahead, reached the meeting point but found only silence. Hours later, with the help of a neighbour, she found Alaa — her body torn apart, lying next to the bag of flour she had died to carry.

Alaa’s death devastated her family. Her brother, Abdullah, described her as a second mother, someone who had always looked after them. Her mother’s voice cracked as she spoke of Alaa’s love for Palestinian embroidery, her delicate hands that made necklaces for her nephews — the final gifts she would ever offer. Once again, the family had been displaced, driven from one shelter to another. This time, Alaa would not return. In Gaza, survival is no longer about food itself — but whether one can make it home alive with it.