In Gaza, hunger is no longer a consequence of war—it has become a weapon of war. As the Israeli siege deepens, over two million Palestinians are being slowly starved under a blockade that tightens by the day. With border crossings sealed and humanitarian aid deliberately obstructed, survival is becoming an act of resistance.

Since early March, the trickle of aid has all but stopped. Gaza’s food supplies have vanished, and the once-simple act of baking bread is now an unattainable dream for families crammed into displacement shelters. Entire communities who fled relentless bombings now face death by hunger and thirst, abandoned by a world that remains shamefully mute.

Inside a ruined classroom in Sheikh Radwan, a grandmother clutches her grandchild, her voice trembling as she describes begging for rice from strangers. In the ruins of western Gaza, a father speaks of burying his children, not under rubble, but from the quiet cruelty of hunger.

International law is clear: the deliberate starvation of civilians is a war crime. Yet the Israeli policy of withholding food and medicine continues unchecked, forcing Palestinians to choose between starvation and exile. Human rights groups have documented hundreds of preventable deaths, including children who died in their sleep, not from shrapnel, but from cold and hunger.

This is not collateral damage. This is calculated. And as Gaza wastes away, the silence of global powers becomes complicit. The people of Gaza are not asking for favours—they are asking for their right to live. In a world that claims to uphold human rights, their unanswered cries remain a haunting indictment.