The story of Gaza’s doctors who chose life despite hunger
In a corner of a hospital barely still standing, Dr. Asmaa Al-Hayek stood placing her stethoscope on the chest of an injured child, her hands trembling from exhaustion and hunger. She hadn’t eaten a proper meal for three nights in a row.
“We share a single can of cheese between ten doctors and nurses,” she said in a faint voice.
“Sometimes I survive only on biscuits… then feel so weak I nearly collapse, but I go back to save another patient.”
This isn’t an exception—it’s the daily routine. There is no time to rest, no adequate food, no clean water. Some developed eczema, others could no longer stand without IV fluids. Like nurse Adel Al-Nakhala, who lost ten kilograms of weight and had to receive nutrient infusions just to stay upright amid the flood of the wounded.
“I feel dizzy, but there’s no room to fall,” he said, drawing a deep breath. “I’m as hungry as everyone else, but there’s a life in front of me that I must save—a child whose bleeding I must stop.”
Another doctor finished his long shift with nothing but three dates for dinner after all the charity food had run out.
“My biggest wish is just to eat some mulukhiyah,” he said with a weary laugh. “But there’s no time, no money, and no home left to return to.”
Beyond the hospital walls, Gaza was living through days unprecedented in its modern history. Destroyed streets, endless lines waiting for a sip of water, children falling asleep on empty stomachs.
According to humanitarian organizations, food insecurity reached record highs, with over 80% of the population suffering acute hunger, and thousands of children facing the slow death of malnutrition. The famine spread silently like a hidden fire, consuming everything: health, dignity, even memories.
In the emergency rooms, a nurse leaned back against the wall, drained by thirst. In a hushed voice, he said:
“The last time I had a hot meal was a month ago. Every night I promise myself I’ll endure one more day, because there’s no one else here.”
As the breath of the patients mingled with the call to prayer and groans of pain, the doctors and nurses rested their heads on the tables for a few precious minutes before rising again to continue their rounds.
Some of them wished they could go home—but the homes no longer existed. The words of one doctor summed it all up: “We have lost weight. We have fallen ill. But we will keep going. Even if all we have left is dates and water. Because our mission is greater than our hunger.”
In Gaza, the doctors are fighting not only disease, but famine, thirst, and collapse.
And yet… every day they choose to stay.
To continue.
To save lives.
Because within their hearts beats a resilience no war, no hunger, and no death can ever defeat.
Alaa Alburai, Kufi Productions
