Gaza’s Bakeries Could Shut Down within a Week under Israel’s Blockade of All Food and Supplies

 Palestinians queue outside a bakery during Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the holy fasting month of Ramadan, in Gaza City on March 30, 2025. (AFP)
Palestinians queue outside a bakery during Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the holy fasting month of Ramadan, in Gaza City on March 30, 2025. (AFP)
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Gaza’s Bakeries Could Shut Down within a Week under Israel’s Blockade of All Food and Supplies

 Palestinians queue outside a bakery during Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the holy fasting month of Ramadan, in Gaza City on March 30, 2025. (AFP)
Palestinians queue outside a bakery during Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the holy fasting month of Ramadan, in Gaza City on March 30, 2025. (AFP)

Gaza’s bakeries will run out of flour for bread within a week, the UN says. Agencies have cut food distributions to families in half. Markets are empty of most vegetables. Many aid workers cannot move around because of Israeli bombardment.

For four weeks, Israel has shut off all sources of food, fuel, medicine and other supplies for the Gaza Strip’s population of more than 2 million Palestinians. It’s the longest blockade yet of Israel’s 17-month-old campaign against Hamas, with no sign of it ending. Many are going hungry during the normally festive Eid al-Fitr, a major Muslim holiday.

Aid workers are stretching out the supplies they have but warn of a catastrophic surge in severe hunger and malnutrition. Eventually, food will run out completely if the flow of aid is not restored, because the war has destroyed almost all local food production in Gaza.

"We depend entirely on this aid box," said Shorouq Shamlakh, a mother of three collecting her family’s monthly box of food from a UN distribution center in Jabaliya in northern Gaza. She and her children reduce their meals to make it last a month, she said. "If this closes, who else will provide us with food?"

The World Food Program said Thursday that its flour for bakeries is only enough to keep producing bread for 800,000 people a day until Tuesday and that its overall food supplies will last a maximum of two weeks. As a "last resort" once all other food is exhausted, it has emergency stocks of fortified nutritional biscuits for 415,000 people.

Fuel and medicine will last weeks longer before hitting zero. Hospitals are rationing antibiotics and painkillers. Aid groups are shifting limited fuel supplies between multiple needs, all indispensable — trucks to move aid, bakeries to make bread, wells and desalination plants to produce water, hospitals to keep machines running.

"We have to make impossible choices. Everything is needed," said Clémence Lagouardat, the Gaza response leader for Oxfam International, speaking from Deir al-Balah in central Gaza at a briefing Wednesday. "It’s extremely hard to prioritize."

Compounding the problems, Israel resumed its military campaign on March 18 with bombardment that has killed hundreds of Palestinians, mostly women and children, according to health officials. It has hit humanitarian facilities, the UN says. New evacuation orders have forced more than 140,000 Palestinians to move yet again.

But Israel has not resumed the system for aid groups to notify the military of their movements to ensure they were not hit by bombardment, multiple aid workers said. As a result, various groups have stopped water deliveries, nutrition for malnourished children and other programs because it's not safe for teams to move.

COGAT, the Israeli military body in charge of coordinating aid, said the system was halted during the ceasefire. Now it is implemented in some areas "in accordance with policy and operational assessments ... based on the situation on the ground," COGAT said, without elaborating.

Rising prices leave food unaffordable

During the 42 days of ceasefire that began in mid-January, aid groups rushed in significant amounts of aid. Food also streamed into commercial markets.

But nothing has entered Gaza since Israel cut off that flow on March 2. Israel says the siege and renewed military campaign aim to force Hamas to accept changes in their agreed-on ceasefire deal and release more hostages.

Fresh produce is now rare in Gaza’s markets. Meat, chicken, potatoes, yogurt, eggs and fruits are completely gone, Palestinians say.

Prices for everything else have skyrocketed out of reach for many Palestinians. A kilo (2 pounds) of onions can cost the equivalent of $14, a kilo of tomatoes goes for $6, if they can be found. Cooking gas prices have spiraled as much as 30-fold, so families are back to scrounging for wood to make fires.

"It’s totally insane," said Abeer al-Aker, a teacher and mother of three in Gaza City. "No food, no services. ... I believe that the famine has started again. "

Families depend even more on aid

At the distribution center in Jabaliya, Rema Megat sorted through the food ration box for her family of 10: rice, lentils, a few cans of sardines, a half kilo of sugar, two packets of powdered milk.

"It’s not enough to last a month," she said. "This kilo of rice will be used up in one go."

The UN has cut its distribution of food rations in half to redirect more supplies to bakeries and free kitchens producing prepared meals, said Olga Cherevko, spokesperson for the UN humanitarian agency, known as OCHA.

The number of prepared meals has grown 25% to 940,000 meals a day, she said, and bakeries are churning out more bread. But that burns through supplies faster.

Once flour runs out soon, "there will be no bread production happening in a large part of Gaza," said Gavin Kelleher, with the Norwegian Refugee Council.

UNRWA, the main UN agency for Palestinians, only has a few thousand food parcels left and enough flour for a few days, said Sam Rose, the agency's acting director in Gaza.

Gaza Soup Kitchen, one of the main public kitchens, can’t get any meat or much produce, so they serve rice with canned vegetables, co-founder Hani Almadhoun said.

"There are a lot more people showing up, and they’re more desperate. So people are fighting for food," he said.

Israel shows no sign of lifting the siege

The United States pressured Israel to let aid into Gaza at the beginning of the war in October 2023, after Israel imposed a blockade of about two weeks. This time, it has supported Israel’s policy.

Rights groups have called it a "starvation policy" that could be a war crime.

Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar told a news conference Monday that "Israel is acting in accordance with international law."

He accused Hamas of stealing aid and said Israel is not required to let in supplies if it will be diverted to combatants.

He gave no indication of whether the siege could be lifted but said Gaza had enough supplies, pointing to the aid that flowed in during the ceasefire.

Hunger and hopelessness are growing

Because its teams can’t coordinate movements with the military, Save the Children suspended programs providing nutrition to malnourished children, said Rachael Cummings, the group’s humanitarian response leader in Gaza.

"We are expecting an increase in the rate of malnutrition," she said. "Not only children — adolescent girls, pregnant women."

During the ceasefire, Save the Children was able to bring some 4,000 malnourished infants and children back to normal weight, said Alexandra Saif, the group’s head of humanitarian policy.

About 300 malnourished patients a day were coming into its clinic in Deir al-Balah, she said. The numbers have plunged — to zero on some days — because patients are too afraid of bombardment, she said.

The multiple crises are intertwined. Malnutrition leaves kids vulnerable to pneumonia, diarrhea and other diseases. Lack of clean water and crowded conditions only spread more illnesses. Hospitals overwhelmed with the wounded can’t use their limited supplies on other patients.

Aid workers say not only Palestinians, but their own staff have begun to fall into despair.

"The world has lost its compass," UNRWA’s Rose said. "There’s just a feeling here that anything could happen, and it still wouldn’t be enough for the world to say, this is enough."



10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
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10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)

Fleeing Iran with her husband and toddler, Amena Namjoyan reached a rocky beach of this eastern Greek island along with hundreds of thousands of others. For months, their arrival overwhelmed Lesbos. Boats fell apart, fishermen dove to save people from drowning, and local grandmothers bottle-fed newly arrived babies.

Namjoyan spent months in an overcrowded camp. She learned Greek. She struggled with illness and depression as her marriage collapsed. She tried to make a fresh start in Germany but eventually returned to Lesbos, the island that first embraced her. Today, she works at a restaurant, preparing Iranian dishes that locals devour, even if they struggle to pronounce the names. Her second child tells her, “‘I’m Greek.’”

“Greece is close to my culture, and I feel good here,” Namjoyan said. “I am proud of myself.”

In 2015, more than 1 million migrants and refugees arrived in Europe — the majority by sea, landing in Lesbos, where the north shore is just 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Türkiye. The influx of men, women and children fleeing war and poverty sparked a humanitarian crisis that shook the European Union to its core. A decade later, the fallout still reverberates on the island and beyond.

For many, Greece was a place of transit. They continued on to northern and western Europe. Many who applied for asylum were granted international protection; thousands became European citizens. Countless more were rejected, languishing for years in migrant camps or living in the streets. Some returned to their home countries. Others were kicked out of the European Union.

For Namjoyan, Lesbos is a welcoming place — many islanders share a refugee ancestry, and it helps that she speaks their language. But migration policy in Greece, like much of Europe, has shifted toward deterrence in the decade since the crisis. Far fewer people are arriving illegally. Officials and politicians have maintained that strong borders are needed. Critics say enforcement has gone too far and violates fundamental EU rights and values.

“Migration is now at the top of the political agenda, which it didn’t use to be before 2015,” said Camille Le Coz Director of the Migration Policy Institute Europe, noting changing EU alliances. “We are seeing a shift toward the right of the political spectrum.”

A humanitarian crisis turned into a political one

In 2015, boat after boat crowded with refugees crashed onto the doorstep of Elpiniki Laoumi, who runs a fish tavern across from a Lesbos beach. She fed them, gave them water, made meals for aid organizations.

“You would look at them and think of them as your own children," said Laoumi, whose tavern walls today are decorated with thank-you notes.

From 2015 to 2016, the peak of the migration crisis, more than 1 million people entered Europe through Greece alone. The immediate humanitarian crisis — to feed, shelter and care for so many people at once — grew into a long-term political one.

Greece was reeling from a crippling economic crisis. The influx added to anger against established political parties, fueling the rise of once-fringe populist forces.

EU nations fought over sharing responsibility for asylum seekers. The bloc’s unity cracked as some member states flatly refused to take migrants. Anti-migration voices calling for closed borders became louder.

Today, illegal migration is down across Europe While illegal migration to Greece has fluctuated, numbers are nowhere near 2015-16 figures, according to the International Organization for Migration. Smugglers adapted to heightened surveillance, shifting to more dangerous routes.

Overall, irregular EU border crossings decreased by nearly 40% last year and continue to fall, according to EU border and coast guard agency Frontex.

That hasn’t stopped politicians from focusing on — and sometimes fearmongering over — migration. This month, the Dutch government collapsed after a populist far-right lawmaker withdrew his party’s ministers over migration policy.

In Greece, the new far-right migration minister has threatened rejected asylum seekers with jail time.

A few miles from where Namjoyan now lives, in a forest of pine and olive trees, is a new EU-funded migrant center. It's one of the largest in Greece and can house up to 5,000 people.

Greek officials denied an Associated Press request to visit. Its opening is blocked, for now, by court challenges.

Some locals say the remote location seems deliberate — to keep migrants out of sight and out of mind.

“We don’t believe such massive facilities are needed here. And the location is the worst possible – deep inside a forest,” said Panagiotis Christofas, mayor of Lesbos’ capital, Mytilene. “We’re against it, and I believe that’s the prevailing sentiment in our community.”

A focus on border security

For most of Europe, migration efforts focus on border security and surveillance.

The European Commission this year greenlighted the creation of “return” hubs — a euphemism for deportation centers — for rejected asylum seekers. Italy has sent unwanted migrants to its centers in Albania, even as that faces legal challenges.

Governments have resumed building walls and boosting surveillance in ways unseen since the Cold War.

In 2015, Frontex was a small administrative office in Warsaw. Now, it's the EU's biggest agency, with 10,000 armed border guards, helicopters, drones and an annual budget of over 1 billion euros.

On other issues of migration — reception, asylum and integration, for example — EU nations are largely divided.

The legacy of Lesbos

Last year, EU nations approved a migration and asylum pact laying out common rules for the bloc's 27 countries on screening, asylum, detention and deportation of people trying to enter without authorization, among other things.

“The Lesbos crisis of 2015 was, in a way, the birth certificate of the European migration and asylum policy,” Margaritis Schinas, a former European Commission vice president and a chief pact architect, told AP.

He said that after years of fruitless negotiations, he's proud of the landmark compromise.

“We didn’t have a system,” Schinas said. “Europe’s gates had been crashed."

The deal, endorsed by the United Nations refugee agency, takes effect next year. Critics say it made concessions to hardliners. Human rights organizations say it will increase detention and erode the right to seek asylum.

Some organizations also criticize the “externalization” of EU border management — agreements with countries across the Mediterranean to aggressively patrol their coasts and hold migrants back in exchange for financial assistance.

The deals have expanded, from Türkiye to the Middle East and across Africa. Human rights groups say autocratic governments are pocketing billions and often subject the displaced to appalling conditions.

Lesbos still sees some migrants arrive Lesbos' 80,000 residents look back at the 2015 crisis with mixed feelings.

Fisherman Stratos Valamios saved some children. Others drowned just beyond his reach, their bodies still warm as he carried them to shore.

“What’s changed from back then to now, 10 years on? Nothing,” he said. “What I feel is anger — that such things can happen, that babies can drown.”

Those who died crossing to Lesbos are buried in two cemeteries, their graves marked as “unknown.”

Tiny shoes and empty juice boxes with faded Turkish labels can still be found on the northern coast. So can black doughnut-shaped inner tubes, given by smugglers as crude life preservers for children. At Moria, a refugee camp destroyed by fire in 2020, children’s drawings remain on gutted building walls.

Migrants still arrive, and sometimes die, on these shores. Lesbos began to adapt to a quieter, more measured flow of newcomers.

Efi Latsoudi, who runs a network helping migrants learn Greek and find jobs, hopes Lesbos’ tradition of helping outsiders in need will outlast national policies.

“The way things are developing, it’s not friendly for newcomers to integrate into Greek society,” Latsoudi said. "We need to do something. ... I believe there is hope.”