In the village of Juhr al-Dik, east of the Bureij refugee camp, small children move among the rubble, collecting branches and twigs with their tiny hands to make a fire that will cook what little food their families can find. No fuel, no electricity, no gas—only the ashes of war covering the land and the dreams of childhood. It is a scene that captures the pain of Gaza today, where survival itself has become a daily battle no less brutal than the bombings.

After two years of war, nothing in Gaza resembles normal life anymore. The roads are destroyed, the schools have turned into overcrowded shelters, and the hospitals bleed with exhaustion and pain. More than 61 million tons of debris cover the Strip, burying beneath them memories, homes, and names that once pulsed with life. Public services have completely collapsed, leaving people to face the cold, hunger, and darkness alone.

Fear, pain, and oppression. In the alleys of the camps, mothers share what little food remains with their neighbors, and children gather around the light of a single candle to study or play. Nothing here is free except fear, and no question echoes louder than the same one: When will the war end? Yet, the people of Gaza insist on living. They rebuild hope from the ruins of pain and plant patience in their hearts as vast as the siege itself.

Humanitarian organizations and UN agencies issue appeal after appeal, demanding the passage of aid—food, medicine, and fuel. But the response remains slow, and the tragedy deepens every day. Israel, on the other hand, blames the shortages on what it calls “mismanagement and looting” of supplies, while the truth remains that thousands of lives are tested daily on the edge of loss.

And despite it all, Gaza stands tall as always. A small city, yet immense in spirit—turning pain into identity and resilience into its only weapon. There, among the rubble, children continue to collect branches—not only to light fires for cooking, but to ignite the memory of a forgetful world, reminding it that in Gaza, there are still people fighting for the simplest right of all… the right to live.