Imagine watching your children shiver in the cold, their faces etched with fear as rainwater soaks their makeshift tent. This is the stark reality for hundreds of thousands of Gazan families as winter rains intensify, raising the specter of disease and death. Aid agencies are sounding the alarm, desperately pleading for Israel to allow more tents and vital supplies into Gaza. But are these pleas being heard quickly enough?
According to reports from the BBC, after the first heavy winter rainfall, over a quarter of a million families are in dire need of emergency shelter assistance. Jan Egeland, Secretary General of the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC), puts it bluntly: "We are going to lose lives this winter. Children, families will perish." His frustration is palpable, especially considering the time lost since the adoption of the Trump peace plan, which was supposed to ensure the flow of humanitarian aid to alleviate Palestinian suffering. But here's where it gets controversial... Is the plan truly being implemented effectively, or are bureaucratic hurdles hindering the delivery of life-saving assistance?
The devastating war of the past two years has left a majority of Gazans displaced, forced to live in tents, many of them cobbled together from scraps. The recent winter storm has only exacerbated their plight, causing widespread flooding as rainwater mixes with sewage. Fatima Hamdona, a Gazan mother, tearfully showed a BBC journalist the ankle-deep puddle inside her tent in Gaza City. "My children are already sick, and look at what happened to our tent," she cried. "We don't have food – the flour got all wet. We're people who've been destroyed. Where do we go? There's no shelter for us to go to now." This heartbreaking scene is mirrored in the southern city of Khan Younis, where Nihad Shabat and her family are struggling to dry their flooded possessions. "Our clothes, mattresses, and blankets were flooded," she lamented, adding, "We're worried about getting flooded again. We cannot afford to buy a tent." And this is the part most people miss: the psychological toll of living in constant fear and uncertainty, compounded by the lack of basic necessities.
A recent UN report reveals the staggering scale of destruction, with over 80% of buildings across Gaza destroyed, and a shocking 92% in Gaza City. The NRC, which leads the Shelter Cluster in Gaza (a coalition of about 20 NGOs), estimates that approximately 260,000 Palestinian families – roughly 1.5 million people – urgently need emergency shelter assistance to survive the winter. Despite the ceasefire that took effect on October 10th, NGOs report that they have only managed to get around 19,000 tents into Gaza. A staggering 44,000 pallets of aid, including tents and bedding, remain blocked from entering, with supplies languishing in Egypt, Jordan, and Israel. Jan Egeland attributes the hold-up to "a bureaucratic, military, politicised quagmire" that runs counter to fundamental humanitarian principles.
In March, Israel introduced a new registration process for aid groups operating in Gaza, citing security concerns. This process requires them to provide lists of their local Palestinian staff. However, aid groups argue that data protection laws in donor countries prevent them from sharing such information. Furthermore, many essential items, including tent poles, are classified as "dual-use" by Israel, meaning they can be used for both military and civilian purposes, leading to their entry being banned or severely restricted. The BBC has requested details from COGAT, the Israeli defense body controlling border crossings, regarding the number of imported tents, but has yet to receive a response. On Sunday, COGAT posted on X (formerly Twitter): "Over the last few months, in preparation for the winter and protection from the rain, COGAT coordinated with the international community and facilitated close to 140,000 tarpaulins directly to the residents of the Gaza Strip." They also called on international organizations to coordinate more tents, tarpaulins, and other winter humanitarian responses, stating their collaboration with the new US-led Civil-Military Coordination Center (CMCC) to plan "a catered humanitarian response for the upcoming winter." It is worth noting that COGAT refers to Tarpaulins, which are not the same as tents and offer a lower level of protection from the elements.
International aid groups are pinning their hopes on the CMCC, which will oversee the implementation of President Trump's 20-point Gaza peace plan, to ease restrictions on their work. With a foreign donor conference on reconstruction in the Palestinian territory expected to take place in Egypt soon, they emphasize that basic shelter supplies must be allowed to enter while longer-term plans are developed. Mr. Egeland warns, "It would not be a good thing if all these nations meet in Cairo to discuss long-term reconstruction for Palestinians in great need if they die before their high-rise buildings can be reconstructed. They need a tent today; they don't need a promise of a beachfront structure in five years." But here’s a hard truth: Even when aid does get through, it doesn't always reach those who need it most.
Palestinians have reported to the BBC that many tents brought in by international agencies and Gulf donors have been stolen and are being sold on the black market in Gaza. While increased supply has led to a drop in prices (from around $2,700 before the ceasefire to $900-$1,000), the fact that these essential items are being exploited for profit is deeply concerning. Alaa al-Dirghali in Khan Younis pleads for international help to distribute shelters more fairly: "I hope everyone will join with us to end this crisis we're living through. The tents endured two years under the sun and two years under the rain, and they couldn't last this downpour. Until this moment, people are re-erecting these broken tents because they don't have any alternative. I pray to God that those responsible for handing out tents will give them to those who actually need them. They're getting stolen and sold to people at a very expensive price." Rami Deif Allah, displaced from Beit Hanoun and now living in Gaza City, was found drying soaked mattresses with his elderly mother and children. He recounts that even with a waterproof tent given to him by a relative, they were still flooded. "We evacuated about 11 times, and there was no safe place for us, so we took shelter in these humble tents, but it was all in vain. When the rain came, they couldn't protect us," he said. "The water flooded us from above and below." Like all Gazans, Rami yearns for a permanent home: "We pray for this war to be fully over, and for everyone to return to their homes. Even if we don't find our houses standing, with our sweat and blood we will rebuild. This situation of living out on the streets is unbearable."
This complex situation raises some tough questions. How can the international community ensure that aid reaches those who desperately need it, without being siphoned off for profit? What accountability measures can be put in place to prevent the theft and resale of essential supplies? And ultimately, how can a lasting solution be found to address the root causes of this humanitarian crisis, providing Gazans with the stability and security they deserve? Do you believe the current aid delivery system is effective? What steps do you think should be taken to improve the situation? Share your thoughts and opinions in the comments below.
