Bathing Once Every 10 Days: The Harsh Reality of Northern Gaza’s Water Crisis

Beit Lahiya, Gaza, Palestine – Among the ruins of what was once their home, Faten Abu Haloub, a mother of five, has set up a makeshift shelter with her family and in-laws. Their life now unfolds in tents pitched on shattered concrete, where every drop of water is a battle.

Her husband Karam’s parents, Dalal (60) and Nasser (65), live in a small tent beside them, struggling to adjust to a reality where survival depends on ingenuity and endurance. A fire pit serves as their communal gathering space, while a few wooden planks hold their scarce food supplies. Their "bathroom" is a shallow pit shielded by draped blankets, with water jugs and buckets stacked nearby—a testament to their daily struggle.

A City Without Water

Water shortages have reached critical levels in northern Gaza, worsening since displaced residents began returning home after the ceasefire between Israel and Hamas on January 19. According to Oxfam, water availability is now just 7 percent of pre-conflict levels, as Israeli airstrikes devastated Gaza’s water and sanitation infrastructure.

Each morning, Faten, 28, and Karam, 39, set out in search of water, carrying empty buckets to communal taps or any available source. In Gaza’s traditional society, elders are not typically tasked with such physical labor, but the war has upended every norm. Even the elderly and children now join the relentless search for water.

Karam’s brothers, who live in nearby tents, take on the primary responsibility of securing water. Yet, when supplies run dry, the entire family fans out in different directions, hoping to find even a few liters.

“We Had No Choice But to Leave”

Faten and her family braved months of bombardment before fleeing to western Gaza City in October when Israel launched a large-scale ground offensive.

“We didn’t want to leave,” Faten recalls. “We were among the last to stay in the north.”

But when the ceasefire was announced, Karam immediately returned to see their home. The sight was unrecognizable.

“I couldn’t even tell where our house had been,” Faten says, gesturing to the rubble. “There’s no infrastructure, no water, no sewage, no electricity. How can anyone live like this?”

Sometimes, a water truck arrives, triggering a desperate scramble. But often, the Abu Haloub family is unable to secure a place in the queue—or the supply runs out before their turn.

“No one is ensuring a steady water supply,” Faten laments. “I know the municipalities can’t restore the pipes in this destruction, but I pray that someone—whether local authorities, international aid groups, or humanitarian organizations—will step in.”

Living with Extreme Water Rationing

Water scarcity dominates every aspect of life.

“We ration every drop,” Faten says, forcing a small laugh. Her mother-in-law, Dalal, chimes in.

“I spend all day scolding my daughters-in-law and daughters about water use,” she says. “No more than one person can bathe per day. Bathing is limited to once every 10 days. Only one family can do laundry per day.”

Dalal recalls how life used to be different. “We had 5,000-liter tanks at home. We had electricity to pump water. I bathed my children daily or every other day.”

Karam, while carefully washing his children’s hands, shakes his head. “My back is broken from carrying water.”

When recent storms hit, the family found an unexpected solution. They collected rainwater in every container they could find.

“At first, people doubted us,” Faten says, “but soon, they followed. We used rainwater for everything—it became our lifeline.”

Dreaming of Basic Necessities

Running water from a tap now feels like an impossible dream.

“Pipes, hoses, taps with water—these are luxuries to us now,” Faten says.

Before the ceasefire, while sheltering in western Gaza City, they held onto small hopes—especially when they heard that mobile homes might arrive as part of the truce.

“We were thrilled,” Faten recalls. “People even argued over who would get a caravan.”

“We were told families with more than six members would qualify,” she says, laughing bitterly. “For a moment, I wished I had two more children.”

But the reality was far different. “No caravans, no services, no reconstruction, no water, no rubble removal. Nothing. We just returned to live amid the destruction.”

For Faten and thousands like her, the war is far from over. “Its shadow has never left our lives.”

Source : Al Jazeera