Gaza Herald_ For children, summer is often a season of freedom, a time for games, friendships, and memories that shape a lifetime. In Gaza, however, summer has become another chapter of survival. For the third consecutive year, the sounds of laughter have been replaced by the daily search for water, food, and safety. Instead of carrying school bags or footballs, many children now carry water containers and responsibilities far beyond their years, as war continues to rob them of the simple joys that define childhood.
As the morning sun rises over a camp beside a destroyed building in western Gaza City, Faten Nabhan sits with her six school-aged children after spending hours collecting water from trucks serving displaced families.
At 35, Faten wants to fill her children’s summer vacation with activities that inspire learning, creativity, and joy. Instead, she says, every day revolves around survival.
For the third consecutive summer since the outbreak of Israel’s war on Gaza in October 2023, children across the Strip have been denied the carefree holidays they once enjoyed. With much of Gaza reduced to rubble, tens of thousands of Palestinians killed, and most families displaced, daily life has become a struggle to meet basic needs.
Responsibilities have replaced summer camps, family outings, and neighborhood games few children should ever carry. Instead of playing with friends, many spend their days collecting water, waiting for food distributions, gathering firewood, and helping their families survive.
“This is my children’s routine every day,” Faten said. “This is all they do.”
She said opportunities for recreation or emotional relief have almost entirely disappeared.
“There are no activities, no summer camps, no drawing, no colors, nothing,” she said. “The only thing I can do is help them memorize a few verses from the Quran. That’s all I have to offer.”
Faten says she often imagines what summer should look like for children, a season of discovery, creativity, and developing new skills, but those possibilities have vanished.
“We have ideas, but we don’t have the means,” she said. “There are no toys, no notebooks, no crayons, not even paper and pens.”
Behind every statistic is a child whose childhood has been interrupted by war. While the world measures the conflict in casualties and destruction, Gaza’s youngest generation is losing something far more difficult to rebuild: its sense of safety, wonder, and innocence. For many families, the hope is no longer for a perfect summer, but simply for a day when children can play without fear, learn without interruption, and grow up carrying dreams instead of burdens.
