A so-called ceasefire has brought convoys of aid — yet little real relief.
Food, medicine, and hope still arrive in drips, controlled by politics, not compassion.
Since the ceasefire, the World Food Program has doubled its
food deliveries, moving over 30,000 metric tons into Gaza. UN agencies report
that food parcels now reach around two million people, while a handful of
bakeries and community kitchens distribute bread and cooked meals. Hospitals,
crippled by months of bombardment, are receiving trauma kits and essential
drugs. Fuel is trickling in to keep generators and water plants barely alive.
Beneath the headlines of “increased aid,” the reality is
bleak. Bureaucratic controls, damaged crossings, and arbitrary inspections keep
the flow of food and medicine painfully slow.
Relief convoys wait for hours—sometimes days—before getting
clearance. Many trucks carry only a fraction of the approved supplies. Even
after the ceasefire, Gaza remains under a suffocating blockade that decides who
eats, who heals, and who waits.
The world celebrates “humanitarian access,” but it is access
rationed by politics. The people of Gaza are being fed just enough to survive,
not enough to recover. Hospitals still run without electricity, clean water is
scarce, and disease spreads in overcrowded shelters. Aid workers describe the
situation bluntly: this is not relief—it is controlled suffering.
If the international community truly wants peace, it must go
beyond token shipments and staged announcements. Gaza needs unrestricted,
sustained aid and a genuine commitment to rebuild lives, not just manage
despair. Otherwise, the ceasefire will be remembered not as a turning point,
but as another pause before the next tragedy.
