Gaza Family Uprooted by War Shares Somber Ramadan Meal in a Tent 

Displaced Palestinians prepare an iftar meal, the breaking of fast, on the first day of the Muslim holy fasting month of Ramadan, outside a tent in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on March 11, 2024, amid ongoing battles between Israel and the group Hamas. (AFP)
Displaced Palestinians prepare an iftar meal, the breaking of fast, on the first day of the Muslim holy fasting month of Ramadan, outside a tent in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on March 11, 2024, amid ongoing battles between Israel and the group Hamas. (AFP)
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Gaza Family Uprooted by War Shares Somber Ramadan Meal in a Tent 

Displaced Palestinians prepare an iftar meal, the breaking of fast, on the first day of the Muslim holy fasting month of Ramadan, outside a tent in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on March 11, 2024, amid ongoing battles between Israel and the group Hamas. (AFP)
Displaced Palestinians prepare an iftar meal, the breaking of fast, on the first day of the Muslim holy fasting month of Ramadan, outside a tent in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on March 11, 2024, amid ongoing battles between Israel and the group Hamas. (AFP)

It was a somber scene as Randa Baker and her family sat on the ground in their tent in southern Gaza at sunset Monday for their meal breaking their first day of fasting in the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.

Three of her children were largely silent as Randa set down a platter of rice and potatoes and bowls of peas, a meal pieced together from charity and humanitarian aid. “What’s wrong? Eat,” Randa’s mother told the youngest child, 4-year-old Alma, who glumly picked at the plate.

Randa’s 12-year-old son, Amir, was too ill to join them; he had a stroke before the war and is incapacitated. Also absent this Ramadan was Randa’s husband: He was killed along with 31 other people in the first month of Israel’s assault in Gaza when airstrikes flattened their and their neighbors’ homes in Gaza City’s upper middle-class Rimal district.

“Ramadan this year is starvation, pain, and loss,” the 33-year-old Randa said. “People who should have been on the table with us have gone.”

For Muslims, the holy month combines self-deprivation, religious reflection and charity for the poor with festive celebrations as families break the sunrise-to-sunset fast with iftar, the evening meal.

In peaceful times, Randa would decorate her house and put together elaborate iftar meals. But like everyone else in Gaza, her life has been shattered by Israel’s massive campaign of bombardment and ground assault. Since her husband’s death, she, her children and her mother have fled the length of the territory and are now in Muwasi, a rural stretch of southern Gaza crowded with the tents of Palestinians who have fled their homes.

Israel declared war on Oct. 7, after Hamas fighters attacked southern Israel, killing 1,200 and taking about 250 hostage. More than 31,000 Palestinians have been killed and more than 70,000 wounded in Israel's war on Hamas since then, according to Gaza’s health ministry.

Some 80% of Gaza’s 2.3 million people have been displaced in the war, more than half of them crammed into the far south around the town of Rafah, many living in tents, schools that have been turned into shelters. With only a trickle of supplies entering the territory, hunger is rampant. Many families already live off one meal a day.

In the isolated northern Gaza, people are starving, and many resorted to eating animal feed. Some adults eat one meal a day to save whatever food they have for their children.

“We are already fasting,” said Radwan Abdel-Hai, a displaced Palestinian sheltering in Jabaliya refugee camp. “Beyond food, this year, we have no Ramadan. Each family has a martyr or an injured person.”

Islam exempts some from the requirement of fasting. Abbas Shouman, secretary-general of Al-Azhar’s Council of Senior Scholars in Cairo, said people in Gaza who feel too weak because they have been undernourished for months may forgo fasting.

People who could have serious health risks if they fasted may forgo it to preserve their lives, according to Shouman. If the war ends, those who then become physically able to fast should do so, making up for the missed days, he said.

Here and there, Palestinians made an effort to keep some bits of the Ramadan spirit alive.

At a school filled with displaced people in Rafah, a singer led children in Ramadan songs. After nightfall, worshippers gathered around the wreckage of a mosque to perform taraweeh, a traditional Ramadan prayer.

Like others, Fayqa al-Shahri strung festive lights around her tents in Muwasi and gave children small lanterns, a symbol of Ramadan. She said she wanted the kids to “find some joy in the depression and psychological situation they’re in.”

But the attempts at cheer were largely lost in misery and exhaustion as Palestinians went through the daily struggle of finding food. People flocked an open-air market in Rafah to shop for the few supplies that were available. Meat is almost impossible to find, vegetables and fruit are rare, and prices for everything have skyrocketed. Mainly, people are left eating canned food.

“No one is spotted with signs of joy in his eyes. All homes are sad. Every family has a martyr,” said Sabah al-Hendi, a displaced woman from the southern city of Khan Younis as she roamed the Rafah market. “There is no Ramadan atmosphere.”



Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
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Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi

In the Mazzeh 86 neighborhood, west of the Syrian capital Damascus, the names of many shops, grocery stores, and public squares still serve as a reminder of the era of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and his late father, Hafez al-Assad.

This is evident in landmarks like the “Al-Hafez Restaurant,” one of the prominent features of this area. Squares such as “Al-Areen,” “Officers,” and “Bride of the Mountain” evoke memories of the buildings surrounding them, which once housed influential officials and high-ranking officers in intelligence and security agencies. These individuals instilled fear in Syrians for five decades until their historic escape on the night of the regime’s collapse last month.

In this neighborhood, the effects of Israeli bombing are clearly visible, as it was targeted multiple times. Meanwhile, its narrow streets and alleys were strewn with military uniforms abandoned by leaders who fled before military operations arrived and liberated the area from their grip on December 8 of last year.

Here, stark contradictions come to light during a tour by Asharq Al-Awsat in a district that, until recently, was largely loyal to the former president. Muaz, a 42-year-old resident of the area, recounts how most officers and security personnel shed their military uniforms and discarded them in the streets on the night of Assad’s escape.

He said: “Many of them brought down their weapons and military ranks in the streets and fled to their hometowns along the Syrian coast.”

Administratively part of Damascus, Mazzeh 86 consists of concrete blocks randomly built between the Mazzeh Western Villas area, the Mazzeh Highway, and the well-known Sheikh Saad commercial district. Its ownership originally belonged to the residents of the Mazzeh area in Damascus. The region was once agricultural land and rocky mountain terrain. The peaks extending toward Mount Qasioun were previously seized by the Ministry of Defense, which instructed security and army personnel to build homes there without requiring property ownership documents.

Suleiman, a 30-year-old shop owner, who sells white meat and chicken, hails from the city of Jableh in the coastal province of Latakia. His father moved to this neighborhood in the 1970s to work as an army assistant.

Suleiman says he hears the sound of gunfire every evening, while General Security patrols roam the streets “searching for remnants of the former regime and wanted individuals who refuse to surrender their weapons. We fear reprisals and just want to live in peace.”

He mentioned that prices before December 8 were exorbitant and beyond the purchasing power of Syrians, with the price of a kilogram of chicken exceeding 60,000 Syrian pounds and a carton of eggs reaching 75,000.

“A single egg was sold for 2,500 pounds, which is far beyond the purchasing power of any employee in the public or private sector,” due to low salaries and the deteriorating living conditions across the country,” Suleiman added.

On the sides of the roads, pictures of the fugitive president and his father, Hafez al-Assad, were torn down, while military vehicles were parked, awaiting instructions.

Maram, 46, who previously worked as a civilian employee in the Ministry of Defense, says she is waiting for the resolution of employment statuses for workers in army institutions. She stated: “So far, there are no instructions regarding our situation. The army forces and security personnel have been given the opportunity for settlement, but there is no talk about us.”

The neighborhood, in its current form, dates back to the 1980s when Rifaat al-Assad, the younger brother of former President Hafez al-Assad, was allowed to construct the “Defense Palace,” which was referred to as “Brigade 86.” Its location is the same area now known as Mazzeh Jabal 86.

The area is divided into two parts: Mazzeh Madrasa (School) and Mazzeh Khazan (Tank). The first takes its name from the first school built and opened in the area, while the second is named after the water tank that supplies the entire Mazzeh region.

Two sources from the Mazzeh Municipality and the Mukhtar’s office estimate the neighborhood’s current population at approximately 200,000, down from over 300,000 before Assad’s fall. Most residents originate from Syria’s coastal regions, followed by those from interior provinces like Homs and Hama. There was also a portion of Kurds who had moved from the Jazira region in northeastern Syria to live there, but most returned to their areas due to the security grip and after the “Crisis Cell” bombing that killed senior security officials in mid-2012.

Along the main street connecting Al-Huda Square to Al-Sahla Pharmacy, torn images of President Hafez al-Assad are visible for the first time in this area in five decades. On balconies and walls, traces of Bashar al-Assad’s posters remain, bearing witness to his 24-year era.