As the war in Gaza approaches its fourth year, this week, the Guardian follows five ordinary Palestinians as they go about their lives. Each will tell the story of their day, revealing the terrible toll of the ongoing conflict.
The tent is pitched on a platform set in the sloping sand dunes, above a long expanse of golden coastline. Rats have chewed holes in its canvas sides, and tendrils of pale sand blow in through the gaps. Inside, on the torn mattress he shares with his siblings, 12-year-old Ramadan Ghaban blinks the sleep from his eyes. The sun has just risen but it is already hot.
This is a day in the life of a boy in Gaza.
Daybreak
I wake up every morning at 6.30am. Sometimes, the heat wakes me up, and sometimes it is the sound of the birds, which are everywhere because we live near the sea.
I wash my face and brush my teeth. We do not have gas, so I gather small pieces of wood and plastic to light the fire so we can boil water for tea.
My name is Ramadan Yaqoub Ghaban. I am 12 years old, from Beit Lahia. I now live in al-Nuwairi, in the coastal area of Nuseirat. I have three sisters and one brother.
Morning
Ramadan picks his way over the dunes and between the tents, looking for any wood for a fire to boil the family’s kettle. There are few trees left here, so there’s little to be found, but he finds some scraps of plastic and a piece of driftwood, and crouches to break branches off a thorn bush. With his brother Adi, he builds a small fire to warm the kettle and make tea.
Then he sets off down the beach to work, the wind whipping up sand as he walks.... READ MORE https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/ng-interactive/2026/sep/22/im-afraid-theyll-bomb-the-cafe-where-i-work-or-bomb-me-a-day-in-the-life-of-a-12-year-old-boy-in-gaza