Gaza – Niveen Isleem
For those living it, the war in Gaza is not just breaking news or tragic images on television — it is a reality that devours both land and people, dismantling the fragile ecosystem piece by piece. Here, not only are homes bombed, but fields are assassinated, soil is stolen, and nature suffocates in a silence no less painful than the cries of the wounded.
Green Land Turned to Dust
Before the war, Gaza had around 170,000 dunums of farmland, producing a significant share of its food needs and providing a primary source of income for tens of thousands of families. Today, local and international reports indicate that more than 60% of this land is out of service — bulldozed, bombed, or seized by Israeli forces.
In eastern Khan Younis, where greenery once stretched to the horizon, the scene has completely changed. Walking through rubble and ash, you hear the wind whistling through empty fields — no birdsong, no scent of plants.
“I inherited this land from my father, and he from my grandfather. We farmed it out of love, not just need,” says 67-year-old farmer Sobhi Abu Jameh, who spent his life tending olive groves. “Since the war began, my seven dunums have been completely bulldozed. Even the olive tree I used to rest under was crushed by the bulldozer as if it were a stone. I no longer know how to live without my land.”
Still, he plants — even in the sand beside his tent — vegetables and medicinal herbs. “We plant to resist. Even if they grow in the sand, they bear witness that we are still here, rooted in our land.”
From Breadbasket to Tents of Despair
Al-Mawasi, the coastal agricultural strip west of Khan Younis — once an environmental lung and farming haven — has turned into a massive camp for thousands of displaced people. Tents now stand between ruined cucumber, eggplant, and potato fields, their soil no longer fit for farming due to pollution and overcrowding.
Umm Sami Ahmad, displaced from Rafah, now lives in a tent with her six children near a damaged greenhouse. “We fled the bombing looking for safety, but found ourselves living in mud and among insects,” she says as she soothes her sick child. “This land was planted. People came to buy from its bounty. Now it’s just for tents — no water, no sanitation, and even the air is heavy here.”
Nearby, young farmer Khaled Abu Naim sits at the edge of his abandoned land, staring at scattered irrigation tools. “I had more than three dunums of mint, parsley, and lettuce. I sold to neighbors and lived with dignity. Now dozens of families have set up tents on my land — and the soil is dead.”
Water Stations Without Fuel or Life
The war has not only ravaged the land but also crippled the lifelines of water. Over 65% of pumping and purification stations are out of service — damaged by bombing or shut down due to fuel shortages — making clean water nearly impossible to obtain for more than 1.7 million displaced people.
Relief agencies warn of catastrophic shortages: people are getting less than 3 liters of water per day — far below the 15 liters per person recommended internationally.
“We work within our limits, but the situation is beyond our capacity,” says engineer Atef Jaber, a senior official at the Environmental Authority. “Stations run only a few hours due to fuel shortages. The water we pump isn’t enough even to wash faces. People drink from open tanks or brackish wells unfit for consumption.”
Some stations have been directly bombed; others have been idle for months without maintenance. Efforts to use solar power are insufficient. Meanwhile, more than 130,000 cubic meters of untreated sewage are discharged into the sea daily, and groundwater — Gaza’s main water source — is now contaminated with heavy metals and war debris.
Inflation Eating the Poor’s Tables
The environmental disaster has spilled onto people’s plates. Vegetables — once the simplest staple in Gaza — have become a distant luxury. The systematic destruction of farmland, mass displacement into agricultural zones, and the collapse of irrigation have caused prices to skyrocket.
In Khan Younis’ market, a kilo of tomatoes that used to cost 2 shekels now sells for over 100; cucumbers go for 120.
Abu Mohammed Adwan, a father of four, inspects tomatoes with regret. “Imagine — 100 shekels for a kilo? Before the war it was 2. I’m an employee and can barely afford bread. My kids ask why we don’t eat salad anymore. How do I explain that tomatoes are now more expensive than meat?”
Vegetable trader Ahmad Zaarab explains: “People think we’re profiting, but we barely cover costs. The prices are not a passing crisis — they’re the direct result of the collapse of Gaza’s agricultural and environmental systems. Food security here has collapsed entirely.”
The Environment Pays Twice
“The war doesn’t just destroy people — it strikes at the heart of Palestine’s environment,” warns Jaber. Repeated bombings have created massive amounts of rubble and toxic dust, especially from buildings containing hazardous materials like asbestos and cement. Left exposed, this debris leaches poisons into groundwater and soil and worsens respiratory diseases.
“The air in Gaza is now saturated with toxic particles from dust and rubble. Groundwater is at risk from these contaminants,” he says. “We’re not just talking about current destruction — this is an environmental crisis that will last for years after the war.”
Between Slow Death and Environmental Resistance
Despite the devastation, small attempts to revive life persist. Some farmers and environmental groups are planting in plastic containers or using gray water for irrigation. But these initiatives face a severe shortage of resources and support.
What is happening in Gaza is not just a military war — it is a systematic environmental extermination. Land is besieged, water cut off and poisoned, air polluted — and the world is silent.
If wars are usually measured by the number of lives lost, Gaza’s environment is a victim that goes uncounted — but it cries out in every stone, tree, and plant destroyed.
What the Strip needs now is not only a ceasefire but a comprehensive environmental rescue plan — to restore soil, repair the damage of years of siege and war, and give both nature and people in Gaza their right to survive
