After nearly two years of war, independent experts and frontline aid workers say Gaza is facing engineered starvation. In a national briefing, UNICEF’s warnings, on-the-ground testimonies, and legal insights converged on one urgent message: flood Gaza with aid, restore UN distribution, protect civilians, and let journalists in.

The stark headline behind the headlines

After nearly two years of conflict between Israel and Hamas, Gaza is a landscape of loss—and hunger. More than 60,000 people have been killed, including about 18,000 children, according to UNICEF. Most of Gaza’s two million residents are displaced and struggling without stable access to water, medical care, or food. International agencies now warn that Gaza is on the brink of famine.

At last week’s American Community Media Weekly National Briefing, moderator Pilar Marrero convened a panel with three vantage points that rarely share a single stage:

Alex de Waal, executive director of the World Peace Foundation and a leading scholar of famine;

Budour Hassan, Amnesty International researcher on Israel and Palestine;

Afeef Nessouli, journalist and recent aid volunteer who spent 9 weeks assisting and reporting inside Gaza.

Their conclusions were unsparing—and deeply human.

How a food-secure society unraveled

Before October 2023, Gaza’s health indicators—child nutrition, vaccinations, primary care access—were relatively strong for a besieged enclave, De Waal noted. The turning point wasn’t an invisible crop failure; it was a policy shock. A full siege, followed by a partial one, throttled supplies of food, fuel, and medicine while conflict destroyed “objects indispensable to survival”—the legal term that covers food systems, water, sanitation, shelter, and clinics.

De Waal referenced the UN’s Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC) and the U.S. FEWS NET warnings: for more than a year, Gaza’s indicators hovered just below “famine/catastrophe.” At key moments, he said, outside pressure nudged more trucks in—not enough to end hunger, just enough to avoid a formal famine declaration. That razor’s edge collapsed this spring when a renewed, near-total siege emptied markets and pantries.

Pull quote: “Starvation imposes a moral imperative that transcends politics,” De Waal said. “If there’s nothing to hide, let journalists and independent humanitarians in—and let the data speak.”

From community kitchens to “death-trap” queues

What does manufactured scarcity feel like up close? Nessouli described the reality from March to June: community kitchens dwindled from scores to a handful as supplies ran out; basic items cost shock prices; and people ate once a day—or once every few days. He recounted patients at hospitals who were both wounded and emaciated, and friends who had lost dozens of pounds.

A key operational shift, he and De Waal argued, made things worse: replacing an embedded UN network of roughly 400 community-based distribution points and door-to-door services with a handful of militarized aid sites far from population centers. Those sites, they said, prioritized the security of goods over the safety of people, concentrating desperate crowds for brief windows with little protection—conditions in which the strong push ahead while the most vulnerable go without.

The law, the language, and the lived dignity

Hassan framed the crisis in legal and social terms. Amnesty International has documented patterns—severe restrictions on food and medical supplies, mass displacement orders, destruction of cropland and water systems—that together inflict conditions of life calculated to bring about a group’s destruction in whole or in part, a phrase drawn from the Genocide Convention. She urged journalists to use precise language—starvation, not “food insecurity”—and to center Palestinian voices with dignity, resisting images or narratives that strip people of personhood.

She also warned that famine doesn’t end when trucks roll. Gaza’s health system is shattered; pediatric malnutrition, diarrheal disease, meningitis, and Guillain–Barré syndrome have risen in overcrowded conditions. Without a sustained ceasefire, restored medical capacity, and reconstruction materials, food alone cannot reverse the damage.

Pull quote: “People told us: We are not beggars. We were forced to beg. Dignity must be part of any aid architecture,” Hassan said.

What must happen now (and what Houston can do)

The panel’s fixes were practical and urgent:

Ceasefire & protection of civilians. Aid cannot scale into active bombardment.

Restore UN-led distribution at scale. Reopen hundreds of community points; take assistance to people where they are, with special targeting for children and the poorest quartile.

Let the world verify. Credentialed journalists, human rights investigators, and health assessors must be allowed in to collect data and tell the truth in full.

Rebuild the health system. From stabilization centers for severe acute malnutrition to ICUs, dialysis, obstetrics, and trauma care, Gaza needs a rapid, civilian-led medical surge.

Repair the basics. Water, sanitation, power, croplands, fishing fleets, and housing are not luxuries—they are the legal “objects indispensable to survival.”

How readers can help right now

Houston has a long record of showing up. If you’re able, consider supporting reputable, neutral organizations with track records in complex emergencies, such as UNICEF, World Food Programme, International Committee of the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, and vetted Palestinian medical relief NGOs. Pair donations with advocacy: contact your representatives to support expanded humanitarian access, protections for journalists, and a sustained ceasefire that makes real relief possible.

Why this matters to Houston

We’re a resettlement city, a medical capital, and a newsroom committed to community. Our readers know disasters—from Harvey to heat domes—and how quickly life can be upended when water, power, and clinics fail. The voices in this briefing remind us that the measure of any society is how fast it moves when children are starving.

There’s nothing abstract about bread, clean water, and a safe clinic. There is everything human about making sure families can break bread—together—again.