DEIR AL-BALAH, Gaza Strip — Each morning, Abeer and Fadi Sobh awaken in their tent in the Gaza Strip with a pressing question: How will they find food for themselves and their six young children? The couple faces three options: they might find a charity kitchen open for a pot of watery lentils, they could jostle through crowds for flour from a passing aid truck, or they may resort to begging. If all else fails, they simply go without food. This situation is becoming increasingly common, as hunger drains their energy, strength, and hope.

The Sobhs, who live in a seaside refugee camp west of Gaza City, have been displaced multiple times. Their plight mirrors that of many families across the war-torn region. Humanitarian workers report that hunger has intensified over the past 22 months due to restrictions on aid. Food experts recently warned that Gaza is currently facing a dire famine scenario. In March, Israel imposed a complete blockade on food and other supplies for two and a half months, aiming to pressure Hamas to release hostages taken during its attack on Israel on October 7, 2023. Although aid resumed in May, the volume is only a fraction of what is needed, and the breakdown of law and order has made safe food distribution nearly impossible. Much of the aid that arrives is hoarded or sold at exorbitant prices in local markets.

A typical day for the Sobh family begins with a morning routine in their tent, which Fadi, a 30-year-old street vendor, describes as unbearably hot in the summer. With fresh water scarce, Abeer, 29, fetches seawater for bathing. One by one, the children stand in a metal basin as their mother pours saltwater over their heads. Nine-month-old Hala cries from the sting, while her siblings remain stoic. After cleaning, Abeer rolls up the bedding and sweeps the tent floor. With no food left from the previous day, she sets out to beg for breakfast. Sometimes neighbors or passersby offer lentils, but often she returns empty-handed. When she is fortunate, she grinds lentils into powder to mix with water for Hala.

"One day feels like 100 days, because of the summer heat, hunger, and distress," Abeer said.

Fadi then heads to a nearby soup kitchen, sometimes accompanied by one of the children. However, he notes that food is rarely available there. The kitchen opens about once a week and never has enough for the crowds. Most days, he waits all day only to return home empty-handed, leaving the children to sleep hungry.

Previously, Fadi would go to northern Gaza, where aid trucks arrive from Israel. There, desperate crowds swarm the trucks, often leading to chaos. Witnesses report that Israeli troops sometimes open fire, although Israel claims it only fires warning shots. Fadi, who suffers from epilepsy, was shot in the leg last month, which has weakened him and limited his ability to compete for food.

Meanwhile, Abeer and her three oldest children — 10-year-old Youssef, 9-year-old Mohammed, and 7-year-old Malak — venture out with plastic jerrycans to collect fresh water from a truck that delivers it from a desalination plant. The children struggle with the heavy jerrycans, with Youssef loading one onto his back and Mohammed dragging his along the dusty street.

Abeer sometimes goes to Zikim alone or with Youssef. In the crowds, most people are men, who are faster and stronger. "Sometimes I manage to get food, and in many cases, I return empty-handed," she said. If unsuccessful, she appeals to those who have succeeded. "You survived death thanks to God, please give me anything," she pleads. Many respond, and she often receives a small bag of flour to bake for her children.

During the hottest part of the day, the six children stay in or around the tent. Their parents prefer them to sleep during the heat to conserve energy and avoid hunger and thirst. As the heat subsides, the children venture out again. Abeer sometimes sends them to beg from neighbors or they search through the rubble and trash for anything to fuel their makeshift stove. They have become adept at identifying burnable materials, scavenging for scraps of paper, wood, or even an old shoe.

After a long day of searching for food, water, and fuel, Abeer sometimes manages to prepare a meal, usually a thin lentil soup. However, there are many nights when the family goes to bed hungry. Abeer has grown weak and often feels dizzy from her efforts. "I am tired. I am no longer able," she said. "If the war goes on, I am thinking of taking my life. I no longer have any strength or power."