When Khalid first led me through the remnants of Rafah’s southern neighborhoods, the smell of rotting garbage and sewage hung in the air like a physical presence. “This was our main market,” he gestured toward a jumble of concrete and twisted metal. “Now it’s where people sleep.”
After eight months of devastating conflict, World Central Kitchen announced yesterday they’re suspending operations in Gaza—the latest humanitarian organization forced to withdraw amid deteriorating security conditions and bureaucratic obstruction.
“We simply cannot operate safely or effectively anymore,” said Erin Gore, CEO of World Central Kitchen, whose organization had been providing approximately 350,000 meals daily across Gaza. “The decision tears us apart, but we have a responsibility to our staff.”
The withdrawal comes at a critical moment when over 75% of Gaza’s 2.3 million residents have been displaced, according to UN figures, many multiple times. The UN Office for Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs reports that approximately 1.1 million Palestinians face “catastrophic food insecurity”—technical language that masks the brutal reality I’ve witnessed firsthand.
“We eat every other day now,” Mariam told me in a makeshift shelter in Deir al-Balah last month, cradling her youngest child while four others huddled nearby. “When the children cry from hunger, what can I say? There is nothing to give them.”
International diplomatic efforts have repeatedly failed to secure lasting humanitarian access. The temporary pier constructed by the U.S. military, which cost approximately $230 million according to Pentagon estimates, was damaged by storms and subsequently dismantled after delivering just a fraction of promised aid.
Meanwhile, land crossings remain severely restricted. Kerem Shalom, the main entry point for humanitarian supplies, processes roughly 60 trucks daily—well below the pre-conflict average of 500 and far short of the estimated 600 trucks needed daily to meet basic needs, according to Oxfam International.
Dr. Mahmoud Al-Zahar from Al-Shifa Hospital described the situation to me via a crackling phone line: “We’re performing surgeries without anesthesia. Children die from preventable diseases. The medical system isn’t damaged—it has collapsed entirely.”
The withdrawal of World Central Kitchen follows a pattern of humanitarian organizations forced to suspend operations. Seven WCK staff members were killed in an Israeli airstrike in April, despite the organization sharing their coordinates with Israeli authorities. Doctors Without Borders (MSF) has repeatedly evacuated facilities following direct attacks. The UN Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), which provides critical services to Palestinian refugees, has had its funding temporarily frozen by several donor countries amid Israeli allegations against certain staff members.
“The humanitarian system is being strangled,” Philippe Lazzarini, UNRWA Commissioner-General, told me during a brief interview in Amman. “This isn’t just about logistics—it’s about the systematic erosion of humanitarian space.”
The economic toll compounds the humanitarian crisis. The World Bank estimates Gaza’s GDP has contracted by nearly 80% since October 2023. Infrastructure damage exceeds $18.5 billion, with over 60% of housing units damaged or destroyed.
“We’re talking about generational poverty,” explained Dr. Samia Al-Botmeh, economics professor at Birzeit University. “Even if fighting stopped tomorrow, rebuilding the economic foundation will take decades.”
For civilians caught in this catastrophe, each organization’s withdrawal represents not just statistics but immediate survival threats.
“First the bakeries closed, then the water trucks stopped coming,” said Ibrahim, a father of five I met near Khan Younis. “Now we hear another organization is leaving. Who remains to help us?”
The diplomatic impasse continues despite international pressure. Recent ceasefire proposals have stalled amid accusations from both sides. Israeli officials maintain security concerns require continued military operations, while Hamas demands complete withdrawal of Israeli forces as a precondition for hostage releases.
“We’re witnessing the weaponization of hunger,” said Jan Egeland, Secretary General of the Norwegian Refugee Council, during a press briefing I attended in Geneva last week. “All parties must remember that starvation as a method of warfare is a war crime.”
The situation raises troubling questions about the international community’s ability—or willingness—to protect humanitarian principles in contemporary conflicts. The Geneva Conventions explicitly prohibit the starvation of civilians and guarantee humanitarian access, yet enforcement mechanisms have proven ineffective.
Standing in the ruins of what was once Gaza’s largest hospital, I watched as medical staff attempted to treat patients on blood-stained floors. A doctor who asked to remain anonymous whispered, “We’ve been abandoned by the world.”
As humanitarian organizations continue to withdraw, the outlook grows increasingly dire. Without immediate, unfettered humanitarian access and a sustainable ceasefire, the human catastrophe will deepen beyond our already grim assessments.
And for families like Mariam’s, academic debates about international humanitarian law mean nothing when faced with the immediate crisis of hungry children and nowhere safe to go.
