Relentless overnight rain turned Gaza’s fragile encampments into muddy pools, swallowing blankets, clothing, and the few possessions families had managed to save from the genocidal war. Children stood shivering beside parents who could do little more than hold them close as water seeped through torn plastic sheets, turning the ground into a cold swamp. With homes shattered and neighbourhoods reduced to rubble, thousands once again found themselves watching the storm claim what little remained of their dignity.

Local rescue crews spent the night fielding desperate pleas for help, yet they themselves were left powerless by the devastation that has stripped the Strip of even the most basic civil infrastructure. Responders warned that waterlogged shelters and bomb-damaged homes now pose an even greater danger, their cracked walls vulnerable to collapse under the weight of rain and wind. Families were urged to secure their tents with sandbags and scrap materials, a cruel reminder that survival now depends largely on collective improvisation.

As temperatures drop and storms intensify, the shortages grow more punishing. Warm clothing, blankets, and basic shelter materials are scarce, and restrictions on aid continue to choke the flow of essential supplies. For families who have already endured months of displacement, winter signals yet another chapter of hardship, one in which staying dry, staying warm, and simply staying alive become daily battles fought in the open, under the shadow of ongoing destruction.