“Facing the Storm: Gaza’s Displaced Struggle to Survive as Storm Byron Approaches”

For the nearly 1.5 million Palestinians surviving under plastic sheets and worn tarps, the storm is not merely bad weather. It is another threat added to a long list of daily dangers. Meteorologists have warned for days that heavy rainfall and strong winds are expected today, tomorrow and through the weekend, likely causing flash floods and damaging already fragile shelters. What everyone knows is that Gaza faces this storm without working drainage systems, stable infrastructure or safe shelters. It faces it with tents held up by scrap metal, walkways that turn into rivers after one night of rain, and families who have nothing left to shield themselves. In Gaza City’s camps, signs of deep vulnerability appear everywhere. Most tents are pieced together from aid tarpaulins, strips of plastic pulled from debris and blankets tied to salvaged wooden poles. Many sag heavily; others tremble at the slightest breeze. “When the wind begins, we all hold the poles to keep the tent from falling,” said Hani Ziara, a father living in western Gaza City after his home was destroyed. His tent flooded the night before, forcing his children to stand outside in the cold. He wonders what more he can possibly do to keep them safe. The ground in many camps was already soft from earlier rainfall. Now, wet sand and mud cling to shoes, blankets and cooking pots as people walk. Volunteers dig trenches to divert water, but most collapse within hours. Families in low-lying areas fear that floodwater will rush straight into their shelters. Preparing for a storm — storing food, clean water and fuel — is a privilege most displaced families simply do not have. Water deliveries are scarce and unreliable, sometimes arriving days apart. Food is equally limited; occasional aid distributions provide basic items like rice or canned beans, but never enough to last. “We could not sleep last night. Our tent was flooded. Everything was washed away,” said Mervit, a mother of five living near the Gaza port. “We want to prepare, but how? We can’t save what we don’t have.” Despite crushing poverty, solidarity has become Gaza’s strongest lifeline. Neighbours help one another secure tents. Young men gather scrap metal and wood from the rubble to create stronger supports. Women cook collectively so they can share warm meals, especially with families caring for small children or the elderly. These informal networks grow more active as the storm approaches. Volunteers walk from tent to tent, lifting sleeping areas off the ground, patching holes with plastic and digging small drainage channels. Others help relocate families whose shelters sit directly in harm’s way. But the emotional toll is just as heavy. After months of displacement and loss, the threat of a storm — this time from nature rather than war — feels overwhelming. “Our tents were destroyed. We are exhausted,” said Wissam Naser. “Every day brings a new fear: hunger, cold, disease, and now the storm.” As dark clouds gather along Gaza’s coast, families brace themselves. Some weigh down their tent walls with rocks; others move children’s blankets to the driest corners. Most have no real plan. They simply wait and hope the storm will spare them. For Gaza’s displaced, this storm will not be a single night’s hardship. It is another reminder of how fragile life has become — a life sustained not by preparedness, but by sheer endurance.

NEWS