Page 15 - NS 2024

of Ramadan. In Islam, one is excused from fasting if they suffer from health complications or malnutrition. This is the case for almost a million people in Gaza, in the looming shadow of a UN recognized famine. Dozens have already died from starvation in recent weeks. However, in an astounding display of faith, many Gazans are embarking on excruciating fasts regardless, out of pure religious commitment and discipline. 45-year-old Sabah Sbeta told NBC News she is “grateful for what she has this Ramadan and plans to fast”, rooting her devotion in the Islamic concept of tawakkul, a steadfast belief in and reliance on God.
“Thank God, lord of all the worlds, for everything. Oh, God, there is no objection to your ruling,” she recited a prayer.
Others recognize the sheer depravity of the situation they have been forced into, yet they celebrate what they have and remain trustful in Allah. As Gazan refugee Hussein Owda said, “We are doing our best just to survive. We don’t have the luxury of anything else. God is sufficient for me, and He is the best disposer of affairs.”
Iar, which is the breaking of the fast at sunset, is meant to be a joyous occasion and shared with family, friends, and loved ones. Some of my fondest childhood memories include gathering around a table with my family during Ramadan, watching the sun creep below the horizon and waiting with bated breath to hear the first words of the evening prayer outside. Our throats are
parched and stomachs rumbling, but the spiritual discipline honed by fasting provides a different sense of fulfillment. As soon as the prayer signals the beginning of iar, our hands dart across the vibrantly decorated table for the glasses of cold lemonade and bowls of warm stew.
Gazans during this military onslaught can only reminisce about enjoying such calm, loving iars with their families before the killings began. The blockades on food aid have resulted in mass famine, making it impossible to even “break” a fast properly. Whatever food is still available in local markets have skyrocketed in price due to catastrophic inflation, placing them out of reach out of the destitute and displaced masses. Many Gazans, as documented by various news agencies and humanitarian organizations, have resorted to eating grass and animal feed. The families that have been lucky enough to scrounge together scraps of food-- usually far less than what they need-- have iars among the remains of flattened buildings and bombed neighborhoods.
Yet the spirit of iar, astoundingly, has endured in many forms. A remarkable series of images by photographer Ali Jadallah shows families smiling around a makeshi table of small