Two years of relentless bombardment have left Gaza in ruins, a place where life itself has become an act of defiance. As a fragile ceasefire enters its third week, the municipality of Gaza City finds itself leading a desperate effort to restore what little remains. Roads are blocked by mountains of debris, homes lie flattened, and the air carries the dust of a city turned to ash. Amidst this devastation, citizens and exhausted municipal workers fight not just to rebuild, but simply to survive.

In Shuja’iyya, 45-year-old Rasmiyya Habib stands before the ruins of her home, tears tracing the dust on her face. “When we came back, there was nothing, not even the lemon tree in our yard,” she says, clutching the memory of a life erased. Nearby, Mohammed Nasser, once a heavy-equipment driver, now clears rubble with his bare hands. His vehicle was destroyed months ago. “We don’t dream of much,” he says quietly, “just a roof, electricity, and water again.”

The destruction defies comprehension. Entire districts were wiped out by what municipal officials describe as “remote-controlled demolition vehicles”, machines that levelled blocks at a time. Water and sewage systems lie shattered, health centres are shells of concrete, and fuel shortages have paralysed what remains of Gaza’s infrastructure. According to recent UN analysis, more than 193,000 buildings across the Strip have been destroyed or damaged, 78% of all pre-war structures. In Gaza City, that figure climbs to 83%, making it one of the most obliterated urban areas on Earth. The total debris, an estimated 61 million tons, is nearly 170 times the weight of New York’s Empire State Building.

Gaza Municipality’s spokesperson, Asim Al-Nabih, admits that even with ceasefire promises, the city is far from recovery. “Over 85% of our heavy equipment was destroyed,” he explains. “Without fuel, spare parts or generators, we cannot ease the suffering of our citizens.” The municipality’s recovery plan outlines three phases, emergency response, early recovery, and eventual reconstruction, yet each step is crippled by shortages and restrictions. For now, Gaza’s survival depends on human will alone. In tents, under shattered ceilings, people cling to the idea that one day they will live again, not just exist beneath the ruins of what once was.