As the sun rises over Gaza, it does not bring warmth—it casts light upon a broken land, where minarets have crumbled and streets are paved with dust and blood. The call to Fajr is no longer carried by the towering speakers of grand mosques, but by a lone muezzin who stands atop a pile of rubble, his voice trembling yet unwavering. This is Ramadan in Gaza.
Where the world celebrates the holy month with abundant feasts and tranquil prayers, the people of Gaza endure hunger, not by choice, but by siege. They fast, not knowing whether they will see another sunset. They pray amidst ruins, their whispers of supplication rising alongside the smoke of burning homes.
The Fast of the Starving, the Feast of the Forgetful
Ramadan is meant to teach patience, gratitude, and sacrifice. But sacrifice here is not voluntary—it is imposed. A mother prepares iftar for her children, knowing that tonight’s meal might be their last. A father stands in line for a bag of flour, his pride shattered but his faith intact. A young boy, too hungry to sleep, clutches the Qur’an—not for study, but for solace.
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There is no excess here. No tables overflowing with delicacies. No debates over which dessert to serve. The people of Gaza break their fast with what little remains: a crust of bread, a sip of water—if they are fortunate.
Meanwhile, in cities untouched by war, some deliberately turn away from fasting, citing inconvenience. In palaces of comfort, where food is wasted and air-conditioned mosques stand half-empty, the essence of Ramadan is fading.
The poor man in Gaza, with nothing but hunger and faith, stands richer before Allah
than the wealthy who abandon devotion in the name of modernity.
The Last Days of Ramadan: Where Is the Muslim Ummah?

Safe drinking water: a luxury. [PC: Emad el Byed (unsplash)]
As the last days of Ramadan unfold, Muslims worldwide rush to complete their recitations of the Qur’an, give their Zakat, and seek Laylatul Qadr—a night that is “better than a thousand months.” Yet, for Gaza, every night has felt like Qadr—not in blessings, but in trials.
Where are the voices that should be raised in protest? Where are the hands that should be extended in charity? While we seek Allah’s
Mercy in these final nights, have we shown mercy to those who need it the most?
The Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said, “The most beloved people to Allah are those who are most beneficial to people.” [Hadith, Al-Mu’jam Al-Awsat]
What have we done for the people of Gaza in this blessed month? Have we merely watched their suffering through our screens and moved on, or have we translated our faith into action?
A Call to the Muslim World
Gaza’s Ramadan is a mirror held before the entire Muslim world, forcing us to ask: What has comfort done to our faith? Have we become so accustomed to ease that we no longer recognize the meaning of sacrifice? Have we forgotten that fasting is not just about abstaining from food, but also about standing in solidarity with those who have nothing? As we gather for our final suhoor and iftar, we must remember that in Gaza, there is no guarantee of another meal—or another breath.
To the scholars, the intellectuals, the policymakers: this is no longer just about geopolitics. This is about humanity. This is about faith in its rawest, most powerful form. It is about a people who have lost everything yet still whisper Alhamdulillah. If there is any lesson to be drawn from Gaza this Ramadan, it is this: The strongest faith is not found in grand mosques or elaborate rituals, but in the heart of the starving man who still lifts his hands in prayer.
Before the Moon of Eid Rises, Let Us Act
As we enter the final days of Ramadan—days of mercy, forgiveness, and salvation—we must ask ourselves: Where is our mercy? Where is our action? We seek Laylatul Qadr, the night better than a thousand months, but will we ignore the cries of those who have lived a thousand nights of suffering?
Ramadan is not just about personal piety—it is about ummah, about unity, and about standing for justice. If our fasting does not move us to act, if our prayers do not translate into action, then we must ask: Have we truly fasted at all? Gaza does not need our tears—it needs our voices, our efforts, and our unwavering demand for justice. Before the moon of Eid rises, let us ensure that our brothers and sisters in Gaza are not forgotten.
Related:
– We Are Not Numbers x MuslimMatters – Ramadan While Under Attack In Gaza
– Podcast: Gaza’s Strength, Our Weakness | Shaykha Zaynab Ansari