I stepped off the helicopter at the Egyptian-Gaza border last week, my fourth visit to the region since October. The stark transformation is undeniable. What was once a chaotic but functioning aid corridor has deteriorated into a humanitarian chokepoint where life-saving supplies pile up just kilometers from starving communities.
“We’re watching a population being systematically starved,” Samantha Reynolds from the World Food Programme told me as we surveyed the Rafah crossing. The metrics support her grim assessment. The Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), the global standard for measuring hunger crises, warned in March that 1.1 million Gazans—half the population—face catastrophic food insecurity. The situation has only deteriorated since.
Yesterday’s Israeli airstrike that killed 33 people waiting for food aid near Gaza City compounds an already dire situation. According to the Gaza Health Ministry, the strike hit a designated humanitarian zone where thousands had gathered seeking scarce food distributions. This marks the third major incident involving civilian casualties at aid points since February.
The famine risk in Gaza stems from a lethal combination of factors I’ve documented across multiple war zones, but rarely with such intensity. Six months of bombardment have demolished Gaza’s agricultural capacity. Fields lie untended, fishing boats destroyed, and food processing facilities reduced to rubble. Before October, Gaza produced roughly 60% of its vegetables locally. Today, that figure approaches zero according to UN agricultural experts.
“We haven’t seen fresh vegetables in months,” Mahmoud, a father of four in central Gaza, told me via a crackling phone connection. “My children don’t remember what a tomato tastes like.”
The supply chains that once supported Gaza’s 2.3 million people have collapsed. The World Food Programme reports that only 9% of required food aid is currently entering Gaza. Commercial imports, which previously supplied 90% of Gaza’s food, have essentially stopped. Israeli authorities maintain that security concerns necessitate these restrictions, while humanitarian organizations argue the screening process could be expedited without compromising security.
The economic dimension of this crisis is equally devastating. With unemployment reaching nearly 80%, according to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics, families lack purchasing power even when limited commercial goods appear. The banking system has ceased functioning, and the few operating markets charge prices inflated beyond reach of most residents.
“We’re selling our children’s clothes just to buy flour,” said Amal, a displaced mother I interviewed from Khan Younis. “Yesterday I traded my wedding ring for a kilo of rice.”
The patterns here mirror early stages of famine I’ve witnessed in Yemen and South Sudan, but with one critical difference: the concentration of people in an increasingly constricted space. With 85% of Gaza’s population internally displaced, many multiple times, traditional coping mechanisms have broken down. Extended family networks that might share resources are themselves displaced and destitute.
While attention focuses on the northern areas where famine conditions are most acute, central and southern Gaza are rapidly deteriorating. The recent military operations in Rafah, where over a million people had sought refuge, disrupted the primary aid entry point just as food stocks reached critical lows.
International diplomatic pressure has yielded limited results. Last month’s UN Security Council resolution calling for expanded humanitarian access has not materialized into sustained improvement. The temporary pier constructed by the US military increased deliveries briefly before being damaged by rough seas. Its repair timeline remains uncertain.
Israeli officials maintain that restrictions aren’t intended to limit humanitarian aid. “We have no restrictions on food, water, medicine or shelter equipment entering Gaza,” Israeli Defense Forces spokesperson Colonel Elad Goren stated at a press briefing I attended in Tel Aviv. However, the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs documents that approval rates for aid convoys have dropped to approximately 40%, down from 60% in January.
Medical professionals describe treating conditions they’ve never encountered. “We’re seeing adults who’ve lost 30% of their body weight,” Dr. Khalil Suleiman of Médecins Sans Frontières explained during my visit to their field hospital in southern Gaza. “Children display symptoms of protein deficiency we typically associate with famine zones in Africa.”
The psychological dimension compounds the physical suffering. Aid workers describe populations in constant hunger, with increasing reports of families going three to four days without meaningful meals. The WFP’s latest assessment found 96% of households reporting inadequate food consumption, with severe hunger reported across all surveyed areas.
What distinguishes this crisis is its manufactured nature. Unlike drought-induced famines I’ve covered in the Horn of Africa, Gaza’s food system collapse stems directly from conflict-related policies and restrictions. The International Court of Justice’s provisional measures ordering Israel to prevent genocidal acts specifically mentioned ensuring humanitarian assistance.
Solutions exist but require political will. Humanitarian agencies have called for multiple land crossing openings, expedited inspection processes, and protection for aid workers and distribution points. The recent strikes on aid-seeking civilians undermine these essential safety guarantees.
The window for preventing full-scale famine is closing rapidly. With summer temperatures rising and water systems damaged, waterborne diseases now threaten populations already weakened by malnutrition. The interlocking crises of food, water, and medical shortages create a perfect storm for catastrophic mortality.
As I boarded the helicopter to leave, Reynolds from the WFP offered a final thought: “History will judge us by what we did—or failed to do—in these crucial weeks.” The evidence suggests we’re failing that judgment daily.
