we are not numbers
emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights
Medicines in Gaza are still in short supply and expensive, due to ongoing restrictions imposed by the Israeli occupation on the entry of essential drugs.
After endless searching and nights of excruciating toothache, Shahed managed to buy 2 ibuprofen tablets and 2 paracetamol tablets, at 20 times their usual price. Photo: Shahed AbuAlShaikh
Two years of war and the ruthless Israeli blockade led to the destruction of most pharmacies and health centers and the prevention of medicines from entering the Gaza Strip. The war on Gaza has been a systematic one, aimed at erasing Gaza, and every place in Gaza that could give its people a sense of humanity, dignity, and life.
As the war continued and the destruction in Gaza increased, access to medicine became nearly impossible. This situation continues today due to the ongoing restrictions imposed by the Israeli occupation on the entry of essential drugs. This has deliberately worsened people’s health.
According to the Ministry of Health, 51% of essential medicines are currently at zero stock in the Gaza Strip. Only very small quantities of medical supplies are allowed in, meeting less than 30% of Gaza’s monthly medical needs. This has led to a dramatic surge in medicine prices. Many people now find themselves in a situation where they either die from lack of medicine, or die because they cannot afford it.
The destruction of 87% of the pharmacies in Gaza and the blockade on the entry of even essential medicines have caused the health situation to reach a new low. Deaths among children and the elderly from lack of proper healthcare continue to rise. Even pain (which has many remedies) has become like a shadow, never leaving its owner.
During the height of the Israeli-engineered famine, my experience with tooth pain was one of the worst nightmares of my life. I suffered from a severe toothache due to tooth nerve damage. The pain constantly gnawed at my nerves, preventing me from eating, speaking, or even smiling. I spent many nights groaning in unbearable pain. I prayed to find a single pharmacy to sell me any type of painkiller. My prayers were in vain. Israel’s complete closure of all the crossings and the ban on medicines into Gaza denied people hope of pain relief.
All the medicine stalls in my area — small street tables where pharmacists sell salvaged medicines — were empty. Dust covered the shelves. One day I asked a pharmacist about even the simplest painkiller. My question seemed to have only added to his despair. He told me these no longer even existed and that there was no point in searching because they were unavailable anywhere in Gaza.
Paracetamol (also known as acetaminophen), the most commonly used and cheapest painkiller in Gaza, cost less than 50 cents for a strip of 10 pills before the war. During the war, it disappeared completely, and when it did become briefly available, its price exceeded $10 for the same strip.
A simple toothache completely disrupted my life. As my infection worsened, I stopped eating and reduced drinking water to only a few sips. I was ready to give everything I owned for a single painkiller to ease the pain.
I returned to my tent after my quest for painkillers, overwhelmed, not only from pain but also from thinking about people with much worse conditions than mine. I asked myself about people with chronic illnesses who must take specialized medicines. What about people with allergies who need emergency drugs just to stay alive?
Gaza has slowly begun to adapt to the reality of this war and its aftermath, figuring out ways that might prevent further loss of life. Owners of destroyed pharmacies have started rebuilding them using wood and plastic tarpaulins. They are attempting to distribute some medicines and ointments that Israel now may sometimes allow to enter. Even these small efforts give hope to many people who had suffered greatly.
Such efforts come with many challenges. One is that these newly built pharmacies are made of sheets of plastic. These “plastic pharmacies” are exposed to temperatures reaching 30–35°C (86-95F) in the summer. Yet many medicines require cool environments and controlled storage conditions to remain effective. Unsurprisingly, many medicines and ointments spoil due to these high temperatures. Another challenge is that some medicines expire because of the high prices and the low purchasing power of people who are barely surviving.
Sadly, our suffering and desperation for anything that could ease our pain outweighs even our more important challenges of just finding food and water. When finally, I was able to obtain some medicine to stop my toothache pain, after such a prolonged agony, it felt like discovering a buried treasure after a long and harrowing search.
Most essential medicines still remain unavailable, even after the ceasefire and the so-called “reopening” of the Rafah crossing. And, what now terrifies people is that the IDF is allowing only a ridiculously limited number of patients to travel for treatment. Yet, thousands of patients are waiting for their turn to have the right to medical care. Save the Children recently estimated that at the current rate of evacuation it would take 4.5 years for the 20,000 people (including 4,000 children) in urgent medical need to leave Gaza.
Today, we continue to wait for news of a real opening of what has become the world’s largest prison. A real opening means not just freedom of movement, but freedom to access badly needed medical care, whether specialized or basic.
