Abir Hani’s wish is to live a normal life like any other young woman her age. Photo: Rama Hussain Abu Amra

Menstruation requires simple things: clean water, sanitary pads, privacy for changing and bathing. But during this war, these necessities are rare and often out of reach. The result is not just discomfort; it’s psychological stress and often a deep sense of shame, and even infections.

Abir Hani is 13 years old. She was playing among the tents in Deir Al-Balah one day, chasing rays of sunlight like any child trying to forget the war. Suddenly, she froze, sensing something unfamiliar. She didn’t understand—only fear appeared on her face on the day I went to interview a group of five girls. I encountered Abir, who seemed to be the most upset among them, at a camp sheltering displaced people in the Al-Jalaa area in Gaza City.

She ran to her mother, feeling scared and shaken and stumbling over broken words, her eyes filled with tears. She had many thoughts and questions in her mind about what was actually happening to her. Her mother was by her side from the very first moment she noticed, and then she spoke with her daughter in more detail about the matter to teach her what to do in such a situation.

Eventually Abir realized no one could truly help her. She was forced to use pieces of cloth, knowing they weren’t sanitary.  It was disturbing to be living in a tent surrounded by so many with no privacy for self-care.  And at the same time, she could hear the whispered prayers everywhere during the nights of Ramadan.

Abir is not the only girl in Gaza who has faced these difficulties. Sama Basil, 12, faced her first experience with puberty completely unprepared, both emotionally and physically. This occurred three months ago, in the refugee tents south of Rafah, as the spiritual weight of Ramadan hung over the camp.

She was sitting beside her tent, thinking about how to find water to wash her younger siblings’ clothes, when something unfamiliar between her legs took her by surprise. She didn’t understand it. She didn’t realize that what had happened was a natural transformation in her body. All she felt was fear. But she didn’t ask questions or ask for help.

Her older sister, Halima, noticed her distress and tried to coax her to speak despite her difficulty catching her breath, but her responses were confusing. Halima gave her some basic information about what was happening to her and what she should do. As her older sister she had gone through the same experience not long before. One difference, however, was that Sama’s sister had no one to guide her through it.

She assured Sama that it was something natural that all girls go through at this age, but the circumstances of the war made it harder for her to deal with this major change. The conversation between the two sisters was full of mixed emotions—between the feelings of the older sister, worried about her younger sister, and the tension caused by the difficult circumstances Sama was going through.

Sama’s sister also explained the importance of keeping as clean as possible and taught her the best way to do it. Unfortunately, the available supplies and clothing were completely unsuitable, but Sama had no choice.

The water shortage in the Al-Khiyam area was so severe that reusing a piece of cloth as a sanitary napkin was very difficult. It was extremely hard for Sama to dispose of it and find new, clean cloth. In a conservative society, talking about puberty is considered taboo. War amplifies this silence, leaving girls to face their bodily changes alone. When they do ask questions, they are often met with dismissal or warnings, deepening their confusion and isolation.

On top of the severe shortages in sanitary pads, clean water, and private spaces to safely change and bathe, girls are also deprived of the essential nutrition their bodies need during this critical time—iron, proteins, fruits and vegetables.

Abir lives here among many tents, almost on a public street, with little privacy. Photo: Rama Hussain Abu Amra

In the absence of basic food in Gaza for five months, the problem of malnutrition rapidly worsened for everyone, especially in the camps. This created extraordinary difficulties for Abir and Sama. Anemia also worsened significantly for Abir due to her weak constitution and malnutrition. For Sama, malnutrition affected the timing and duration of her menstrual cycles, something she may never recover from.

Many of the essential supplies needed during menstruation were already scarce before the war began, but now because of the ongoing attacks and bombings the situation is more difficult for everyone.  The shortage of basic necessities has become critical and has become even harder to cope with than before.

Elsewhere in the world, menstruation and other changes of puberty mark the beginning of an important journey toward maturity, accompanied by dialogue and support and even celebration. But in Gaza today, menstruation is often met with silence and confusion along with empty shelves, dry water pipes, and unanswered questions.

Thankfully, I did not go through such a difficult time when my periods began. I am now 23 years old, which means I experienced the beginning of menstruation a number of years ago and not during a time of war under such extreme conditions.

Our girls are not asking for pity. They are asking for dignity. They need the most basic human right: to grow up in peace and to have their bodily needs respected.