On the eve of Ramadan, households across Gaza are not discussing menus or family visits, but calculating how long a single gas cylinder might last. With supplies sharply restricted, the simple act of cooking has become a daily struggle, forcing families to rethink routines that once defined the holy month. Preparing suhoor and iftar now depends less on tradition than on scarcity, patience, and improvisation in the shadow of a continuing genocidal war.

The shortage has turned cooking gas into a commodity guarded with extreme care. Families ration usage down to the minute, often reserving what remains solely for pre-dawn meals. For everyday cooking, many have turned to firewood, despite the added burden and health risks. The uncertainty surrounding deliveries has fostered a climate of quiet anxiety, where no one knows when, or if, the next cylinder will arrive. What should be a month of spiritual focus is instead dominated by fear of running out.

Official figures underline the scale of the crisis. Gaza’s needs far exceed current deliveries, which cover only a fraction of monthly demand. Even recent increases in supply fall well short of what is required to stabilise the situation. As Ramadan draws closer, residents are left to shoulder the consequences of prolonged shortages, adapting through forced conservation rather than choice. The crisis has transformed ordinary domestic life into an exercise in endurance, highlighting how deeply deprivation now shapes even the most intimate moments of the month.