Ahmed Ajour's trip to an aid distribution center in Gaza: "They pointed lasers at us and shot at people."

When people around him began to faint from hunger , 21-year-old Ahmed Ajour looked at his war-wounded father, his mother, and his two younger brothers, all dependent on him, and knew he had no choice. The markets in Nuseirat, the refugee camp in central Gaza where the family lives, are virtually empty, and the little food he can find is priced beyond the reach of the vast majority of the population.

This young Palestinian's only option was to head south and reach one of the food distribution points run by the controversial and opaque Gaza Humanitarian Fund , orchestrated by the United States and Israel with the aim of replacing the United Nations-led humanitarian system. According to the UN, at least 875 starving Palestinians have died violently in recent weeks while searching for food, most of them shot by the Israeli army at these aid distribution centers. These figures are from mid-July, and incidents with fatalities have increased since then. The Gaza Ministry of Health estimates that the death toll at these distribution points has exceeded 1,380 since the end of May. On Friday, the NGO Human Rights Watch accused Israel of war crimes for these deaths.

On Monday, July 28, at two in the afternoon, Ajour set out on his journey with four other friends, convinced that traveling in a group is the best way to protect themselves. Together, they walked to the Al Nouri roundabout, from there to the American Hospital in Nuseirat, and then took several cars, which gradually brought them closer to their destination, located about 25 kilometers away. When they arrived in the Al Saudi neighborhood of Rafah, they still had four kilometers to go to reach their goal, places that Palestinians already grimly call "death traps." They traveled through them on foot.

"Whoever arrives first takes it, whoever is closest survives. There's no organization, no dignity," says Ajour, whose story includes scenes that have little to do with a humanitarian aid distribution.

According to figures released Tuesday by the Integrated Food Security Classification (IPC), the world's leading system for measuring the severity of hunger, Gaza is experiencing the worst-case scenario of famine , as access to food has plummeted to unprecedented levels in recent weeks. More than 20,000 starving children have sought medical care at the remaining medical centers, 3,000 of whom were severely malnourished.

The World Health Organization estimates that at least 63 people died of starvation in Gaza in July, 24 of whom were children under five. According to Gazan figures, among the more than 60,000 deaths directly caused by the conflict, there are nearly 150 victims of starvation.

“Salt and empty boxes”

This report on hunger also states that nine out of ten households have taken risks to obtain food or have rummaged through garbage. Like Ajour and her companions. When the young people arrived near the distribution points last Monday, the dangers multiplied. The Israeli army had set up a checkpoint about a kilometer from the site, using loudspeakers to issue orders and firing warning shots, sound grenades, and pepper spray to disperse the crowd. “We approached, they forced us to retreat, and we tried again and again. I advanced a few meters and then turned around. They pointed lasers at us and shot at people,” she explains.

After three failed attempts and a final 700-meter sprint, he arrived at the distribution center, but found only "salt and empty boxes." The return trip was even worse than the outward journey, especially crossing the Al Saudi neighborhood to Al Nasr Street, where, in the darkness, armed men controlled sections of the road and stole food.

“[We were going through] an area called Fish Fresh, completely dark and crossing vacant lots. There were groups with firearms or sharp tools stopping cars and carts leaving the distribution center,” he recalls. They threatened him with a knife, but quickly left when they saw their meager loot.

The security system in Gaza has collapsed over the past two years due to relentless violence, mass displacement, and the destruction of infrastructure, including police stations and government buildings. The resulting vacuum, coupled with the desperate situation of the majority of the population, means that at times and in places, such as food distribution centers, the law of the mightiest prevails.

Muhammad al-Atta, a lawyer and community activist, explains, for example, that last Tuesday he witnessed the looting of aid trucks at the Zikim border crossing in northern Gaza. He says that initially, groups of Palestinians belonging to different factions had organized to protect the shipments. But then the Israelis bombed the site, and a dozen people were shot dead, according to news agencies citing local medical sources. The Israeli army insisted that the trucks would not be allowed to leave unless Palestinian security forces withdrew completely. Red Cross representatives finally ordered the teams to leave, and then chaos erupted, with a desperate crowd swarming the trucks.

All this happened the same week that Israel announced the implementation of "humanitarian pauses" and "safe routes" in Gaza City, Deir el-Balah, and Al Mawasi, with the official goal of facilitating the arrival of aid to civilians.

Create chaos

Mahdi Hamdan, advisor to the Palestinian minister in charge of humanitarian aid, accuses Israel of “deliberately creating a climate of insecurity that encourages the proliferation of gangs.” According to Hamdan, trucks must pass through corridors crowded with displaced people, without real protection or safe passage. “Gangs now control certain areas, intercept trucks, seize the cargo, and sell it in markets at exorbitant prices that starving civilians cannot afford.”

Israel has accused the Islamist Hamas movement, which is in power in Gaza, of “using photos of sick children to push the famine narrative and blame Israel.” COGAT, the agency responsible for coordinating, among other things, the entry of humanitarian aid into Gaza, publishes the number of trucks entering and their contents daily on social media . “We will continue to expand our efforts to provide humanitarian aid to the civilian population of Gaza,” it stated in a message on X.

Before the war, some 500 trucks of humanitarian aid entered Gaza daily, under an Israeli blockade since 2007. Hamdan estimates that the Strip now needs at least 1,500 trucks per day—a utopia in this context, although international organizations point out that aid is available, with at least 6,000 trucks waiting nearby, and all that is needed is for Israel to allow its entry and guarantee its safe distribution.

International humanitarian law condemns hunger as a weapon of war and the deprivation of civilians of goods essential to their survival.

Amjad al-Shawa, director of the Palestinian NGO Network in Gaza, believes that Israeli forces deliberately obstruct the entry of humanitarian aid with delays and exhaustive inspections that can last for days. “The Israeli occupation deliberately perpetuates chaos,” he says.

For Al Atta, the lawyer and activist who witnessed the convoy's looting this week, even airdrops of food are dangerous. "Previously, aid was dropped in deserted areas, but now there's no free space because tents cover every inch of land and roads. The aid falls into the sea, lands in military zones, or falls on people's heads, causing injuries," he describes.

In recent days, Spain, the United Arab Emirates, Jordan, France, and Germany have used this method to deliver food to Gaza, with the approval of Israel, which authorized this type of aid despite criticism from humanitarian organizations .

"If there is political will to allow airdrops, which are highly costly, insufficient, and inefficient, there should be a similar political will to open land crossings," said Philippe Lazzarini, Commissioner-General of the UN Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), on Friday .

Until that moment arrives, Mahmoud Abu Ghali, displaced from the Jabalia refugee camp in the north to Gaza City, looks at his two children, ages two years and three months, and every day he must make complicated and dangerous decisions to try to bring them back some food. “They look at me as if I could give them everything, but the truth is, I can't even bring them bread so they can dip it in water and eat,” he says, his voice breaking.