Now living in a neighbouring country, an Islamic Relief aid worker from Gaza reflects on the meaning of Ramadan back home, where many, including their colleagues, are once again marking the holy month amid a desperate humanitarian situation.

Ramadan has always been my favourite month. It’s the month when the heart softens, when faith feels closer, and when every prayer carries a deeper meaning. It’s a month of mercy, patience, and spiritual renewal.

But this year, Ramadan arrives in Gaza amid an emergency that began over 2 years ago and continues to this day, with no clear end in sight.

There is something deeply different about fasting when your surroundings are already marked by crisis. Hunger feels different when you know that many families are not just fasting for worship, but because there is simply not enough food and, in some cases, not enough clean water to break their fast with. Patience feels heavier when uncertainty surrounds every day. And prayer becomes not only devotion, but also a cry for safety, protection, and relief.

As humanitarian workers, we stand in a very unique space during this month.

We are employees – responsible, committed, and accountable for delivering assistance to communities in urgent need. We coordinate distributions, respond to community feedback, monitor activities, and ensure that dignity and safeguarding remain central in our work.

But at the same time, we are also living through this crisis ourselves. We are not outsiders looking in; we are insiders looking out for each other.

We are fasting. We are worried about our families. We are affected emotionally and psychologically by the same instability around us. We carry both professional responsibility and personal pain. And yet, Ramadan teaches us how to hold both.

It teaches us sincerity in intention, it teaches us resilience, it teaches us that worship is not separate from service. Sometimes service itself becomes an act of worship.

In this emergency, I have come to see our daily work differently. When we ensure aid reaches a vulnerable family with dignity, it feels like sadaqah. When we listen carefully to a complaint and respond with fairness, it feels like justice in action. When we protect the rights and safety of the people we serve, it feels like living the true spirit of Ramadan.

Ramadan is not as it once was

Ramadan in Gaza is not as it once was. The lanterns that used to light up the streets are gone. The bustling markets where we bought apricots and dates are rubble. It is not the carefully prepared iftars in our own homes, nor the gatherings we used to plan weeks in advance. Today, many families are gathered not by choice, but by circumstance. Displacement has brought relatives, neighbours, and sometimes strangers under the same roof. Shelters and camps are crowded and those homes that remain standing now host multiple families at once.

People break their fast together because they share the same space, the same uncertainty, and often the same limited meal. There is no competition over who makes the best qatayef this year; there is only the quiet relief of seeing that the children next door have something to eat.  The gatherings are no longer about celebration, they are about solidarity. About making sure no one sits alone at iftar. About dividing what little we have so that everyone has something.

But perhaps this Ramadan is also more sincere.

Because in the middle of uncertainty, faith becomes something tangible. It is not just tradition, it is survival. It is hope. It is the belief that even in crisis, mercy is still possible.

As humanitarian staff, we continue our work while fasting, praying, and holding onto hope. We are not separate from the emergency, we are part of the community, serving them while living through it.

This Ramadan reminds me that strength is not the absence of pain. It is the ability to keep going with compassion despite it.

And in Gaza, compassion and patience are needed more than ever.

Islamic Relief staff and partners in Gaza are working tirelessly to support the communities they serve with vital aid this Ramadan and beyond. Please help continue this vital work. Donate to our Palestine Emergency Appeal today.

Editor’s note: This blog has been anonymised to protect our colleague’s privacy. The image used to illustrate this blog is from Ramadan 2025. Islamic Relief’s Ramadan food distributions in Gaza are ongoing in 2026, but still images from the field are not yet available.