As Ramadan arrives, a month traditionally associated with mercy and reflection, Palestinian prisoners inside Israeli prisons enter another season marked not by relief but by heightened hardship. Instead of easing conditions, the fasting month unfolds under routines of deprivation that mirror the wider genocidal war beyond the prison walls. Basic needs, adequate food, rest, and the ability to practise faith, remain tightly restricted, turning Ramadan into an extension of daily punishment rather than a pause from it.

Those who have recently been released describe an environment where scarcity is constant and deliberate. Food portions are so limited that prisoners often combine meals into a single serving, effectively fasting all year round. During Ramadan, meals frequently arrive late or at irregular hours, sometimes after midnight, particularly following sudden raids that disrupt any sense of routine. These incursions routinely result in food being damaged or confiscated, leaving prisoners without iftar altogether. The physical toll is intensified by exhaustion, as fasting prisoners are subjected to prolonged humiliation and restraint with little regard for age or illness.

Religious practice, a central pillar of the month, survives only through quiet persistence. Collective prayer is heavily restricted or banned outright in some facilities, while even whispered recitations risk punishment if discovered. Prisoners adapt by praying silently, sharing reminders discreetly, and maintaining rituals in fragments, determined to preserve a sense of dignity. Compared with earlier years, former detainees say conditions have deteriorated beyond recognition: overcrowded cells, the loss of personal belongings, and the erasure of communal life have transformed Ramadan from a time of spiritual focus into one of endurance. For most prisoners, the month begins not with reunion but with waiting, another Ramadan spent far from their families, under conditions that deny both mercy and reprieve.