Kenneth Glad
In regions shattered by prolonged conflict, childhood often dissolves into the harsh realities of daily survival. Millions of young people find their daily routines upended, forced to trade schoolbooks for hard manual labor as families struggle to meet their most basic human needs.
Across the devastated landscape of Gaza, the ongoing war has entered its fourth year, leaving infrastructure destroyed and families displaced multiple times. In the coastal area of Nuseirat, located in the central section of the Gaza Strip, displaced families live in improvised tent camps pitched along the sand dunes.
Every morning begins in the exact same manner along this vulnerable stretch of shoreline. Sand creeps into every open space as the sun rises over the canvas shelters, bringing intense heat to the crowded camp.
Before the morning temperature becomes overwhelming, basic domestic chores must be completed. A young child moves quietly through the morning air, gathering small scraps of debris to light a fire.
Long days of labor
Twelve-year-old Ramadan Yaqoub Ghaban wakes up at 6:30 every morning in a damaged tent he shares with his family. Originally from Beit Lahia in northern Gaza, Ramadan and his four siblings were forced to flee southward as heavy fighting engulfed their hometown.
He searches the sand dunes for plastic scraps and driftwood to boil water for tea. After a brief meal, he walks along the water to a local beach cafeteria where he works shifts lasting up to 12 hours.
According to The Guardian, Ramadan rakes sand, moves furniture, and clears trash to support his family. “My work is very tiring, but I do it because I have to support my siblings,” Ramadan told the newspaper. His father was killed under the rubble of a bombed house in Beit Lahia when he went to help relatives evacuate.
A constant struggle
Around mid-afternoon, Ramadan pauses his job to secure fresh water. A supply truck arrives nearby, prompting him to fill plastic bottles and load them into a crate trolley with mismatched wheels.
Rats regularly chew through the family’s tent and gnaw on their water containers. Food insecurity remains widespread across the territory, where basic commodities have become extremely scarce and expensive.
His daily pay of 10 shekels, which equals roughly $2.70, covers only a tiny fraction of what the family needs. That amount used to buy plenty of goods, but now it only purchases a single loaf of bread and a small piece of cheese.
Ramadan has not attended a classroom since the war broke out. He misses reading Arabic, which was his favorite subject in school before the fighting forced all local schools to close down completely.
Hopes for safety
Fear remains a constant presence during his daily shifts at the beach. “The thing I’m most afraid of is that the war will return, or that they’ll bomb the cafe where I work, or bomb me if I’m walking,” he said to the outlet.
He recalls witnessing people getting shot and killed while trying to secure flour at distribution points during severe periods of famine. Children in the area have also stopped flying homemade kites because airstrikes targeted young kite flyers on the beach.
When his work ends late at night, he walks home along the dark shore. He cools off in the ocean whenever he gets a spare moment, having taught himself to swim. He hopes to become a lifeguard, a doctor, or a lawyer once peace returns.
Sources: The Guardian
