Through small acts of creativity, two friends demonstrate how the people of Gaza continue living life amid unimaginable loss.
Hala Abu Qass poses for a wartime portrait. Photo: Nour Khalil Khattab
In the midst of relentless struggle, Gaza’s residents continue to find quiet, defiant ways to honor life. Weddings take place among the ruins of shattered homes, birthdays are celebrated with simple, homemade sweets, and the sound of children’s laughter still fills the streets — small but powerful acts that push back against despair. These improvised moments of joy are not merely escapes from reality; they are declarations of existence, proof that even under siege, people still seek connection, dignity, and meaning.
Saja Eldany, 21, and Hala Abu Qass, 20, two friends from northern Gaza and students of journalism and media at Gaza University, have devised innovative ways to keep celebrating milestones, even amid the pain and loss they have experienced.
Saja and Hala lived in the Al-Zeitoun neighborhood, where Israeli airstrikes targeted their homes several times until the neighborhood was completely destroyed. Their lives became filled with daily struggles, repeated displacement, and the loss of loved ones. Meanwhile, their friends scattered; some were martyred, others were forced to flee south in search of safety, and some remained trapped in areas of combat. In a moment of reflection and sorrow, Saja asked, “And if the places return, who will bring back our companions?”
Despite having lost loved ones, and now experiencing displacement and a scarcity of resources, they never lost their commitment to celebrating special moments. Instead of hosting large parties or gathering with family and friends in massive groups, to which they were accustomed, their focus has shifted to small, intimate moments. For example, they prepare simple meals, despite the scarcity of basic ingredients that are often unavailable in northern Gaza.
A simple meal being prepared. Photo: Saja Eldany
They decorate the space they occupy with the simplest of items, using whatever resources are at hand to create an atmosphere of joy and celebration. And they amuse themselves by taking portrait photographs of each other, behind the rubble of their destroyed homes.
“For us, celebration has become more than just an occasion,” Hala said. “It has become a form of defiance. When we put up simple decorations, or gather with family around a small table, we are declaring our hold on life. We are declaring that we will not let destruction steal our joy.”
With restrictions on movement and large gatherings, digital celebrations have become a common alternative for maintaining connections with loved ones. Many rely on social media platforms such as Messenger, WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram to stay in touch with family and friends and virtually celebrate special occasions such as birthdays and weddings. These tools have become vital, especially in a place like Gaza, where physical gatherings are either perilous or outright banned.
Through video calls or text messages, Saja and Hala share moments of joy and celebration with loved ones abroad.
For example, on July 29, 2024, Saja celebrated her birthday with her family — a quiet gathering amid the uncertainty surrounding them. Her brother, who lives in Turkey, joined through a WhatsApp video call. For a brief moment, despite everything, they shared laughter and warmth, clinging to what joy they could find.
Saja videochats with her brother in Turkey while celebrating her birthday. Photo: Saja Eldany
Saja’s brother is one of those loved ones who has become reliant on social media and other digital connections as the only bridge to home. But communication depends on the internet, which is unreliable in Gaza. Every time Saja manages to connect with her brother via Messenger or WhatsApp, she makes an effort to convey her small joys despite the harsh circumstances. She shares photos and messages, telling him of her continued attempts to keep happiness alive in her life and the memories she still carries as she grieves the loss of friends.
Through these calls, both Saja and her brother draw strength from one another. Her brother reassures her that things will get better and encourages her to not give up. This support helps her maintain hope and stay anchored to life, reinforcing her ability to face the daily challenges she endures.
Despite the war and the destruction of mosques by Israeli airstrikes — including the bombing of Dar Al-Salam Mosque in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, central Gaza, by the Israeli Defense Forces on October 19, 2023, which resulted in a horrific massacre — Ramadan traditions never ceased; instead, they were reshaped. In the ruins of rebuilt homes, in tents, and in shelters, families gathered. Instead of retreating to mosques for spiritual seclusion, they created new sanctuaries of worship. Taraweeh and Qiyam, or night prayers, were held amid the wreckage, yet they pulsed with faith and devotion.
Hala, who lost her home in Al-Zaytoun, shares her experience: “After Taraweeh, we sip brewed coffee and share homemade sweets. My eldest sister, Mayar, prepares delicate, cinnamon-and-nut-filled mutabbaq, while I make stuffed Qatayef with dates or cream—if we can find any. With the crossings closed, such ingredients have become rare, but we craft the taste of Ramadan from whatever is available.”