Ramadan in Gaza: Mother Decorates Tent Amid War and Loss | Hope & Resilience

Bureij Refugee Camp, Central Gaza – February 18, 2026 – As Ramadan approaches, Maysoun Al-Barbarawi is preparing her tent in the Bureij refugee camp. Drawings, often affixed with makeshift repairs, adorn the walls, and simple decorations hang from the aging roof. The effort is a testament to resilience in the face of ongoing hardship.

Camp residents are actively preparing, transforming the fabric walls of their shelters with colorful drawings marking the arrival of the blessed month. Faded decorations dangle from the deteriorating ceilings, a fragile attempt to create a sense of normalcy.

“I brought decorations and a small lamp for them,” Maysoun said, looking at her nine-year-old son, Hassan. “I don’t have any money, but the most important thing is that the children are happy.”

“I wish these decorations were a way to escape from the atmosphere of sadness and suffering that has been with us for the past two years during wartime,” she added.

Maysoun, known as Ummu Muhammad, is 52 years old and a mother of two. Her eldest son is 15, and her youngest is nine. “They are my most precious possessions,” she stated.

“Every day they are safe is a day filled with gratitude and joy,” she said, her voice tinged with anxiety. The fear of losing her children haunted her throughout the recent conflict.

The approaching Ramadan arrives after two years of devastating hardship for the people of Gaza. The previous two Ramadans were marked by widespread hunger and relentless conflict, even during periods of temporary ceasefire. Over 70,000 Palestinians have been killed, according to reports, during Israel’s military operations. While the situation remains precarious, there is a fragile hope for a degree of respite this year.

“The situation is not completely calm,” Maysoun explained. “Everyone knows the war hasn’t actually ended; shelling still occurs intermittently, though less frequently than during the height of the fighting.”

This will be the third Ramadan spent living in a tent. “We’ve lost our homes, our families, and many loved ones,” she said. “But here in the camp, we have neighbors and friends who share the same pain and suffering. We all support each other and try to live.”

“We are trying to create life and happiness from nothing,” Maysoun continued. “Ramadan and Eid come and go, but our situation remains the same.”

The previous Ramadan, she recalled, was a simultaneous experience of famine and war. “I would watch my little son cry with hunger and pray for death. Can you imagine?” she asked, her voice breaking. “People are still talking about the possibility of another war. They say we should stock up on food,” she added, her voice filled with apprehension.

The scenes of the past two years – the accumulation of bodies, the burial of loved ones, alive or not, amidst the concrete rubble – defined the fasting and nightly prayers of Ramadan in Gaza. Each moment was lived under the constant threat of death from above. The situation has not drastically improved, with only a glimmer of hope remaining.

In the Bureij refugee camp, a mother is decorating her tent for Ramadan, seeking moments of joy for her children despite the war, loss, displacement, and ongoing uncertainty. This small act of defiance, of creating beauty amidst devastation, speaks to the enduring spirit of the Gazan people.

Across Gaza, civilians are attempting to maintain traditions despite their displacement. Reports indicate that families in Deir al-Balah are decorating tents and streets, clinging to faith and hope. Girls in Gaza City have been seen painting colorful Ramadan-themed murals on damaged buildings, transforming scarred structures into symbols of resilience. These efforts, while fragile, represent a powerful rejection of despair.

The preparations for Ramadan are taking place against a backdrop of continued uncertainty. While a temporary ceasefire has been proposed, and reportedly accepted by Israel, the underlying conflict remains unresolved. The threat of renewed violence looms large, casting a shadow over the holy month. The hope for a peaceful Ramadan is tempered by the harsh realities of life in Gaza, where survival itself is a daily struggle.

The enduring traditions, the small acts of decoration, and the unwavering faith of the people of Gaza offer a poignant reminder of the human capacity for resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship. As Ramadan begins, the world watches, hoping for a respite from the suffering and a path towards a lasting peace.