Gaza's tents are withering away after three years of heat, rain and endless displacement

Displaced Palestinian people in the war-torn coastal enclave of the Gaza Strip are find it exceedingly hard to afford new tents or maintain their old ones after nearly three years of an Israeli genocide.

Thousands of displaced families remain in tents and makeshift shelters, many of which were intended to provide temporary refuge but have become their only homes.

When Israel's genocidal war began in 2023, Hanaa al-Soltan, 44, left northern Gaza carrying clothes, documents and a few belongings for her children, believing the family would return home within days or weeks. Nearly three years later, she remains displaced in a tent in central Gaza.

"At first, we said it would only be a few days or weeks. Then the first winter came, followed by summer, then another winter, and we're still here," she told The New Arab.

The summer heat is particularly difficult for the family. Under direct sunlight, the tarpaulin heats rapidly, turning the tent into an oven, while limited ventilation offers little relief.

"At midday, the children can't stay inside. We go out looking for shade and return when the sun becomes weaker. Sometimes I feel like we're living in an oven," she said.

But when summer ends, the damage it leaves behind becomes a threat. Months of exposure to heat and wind weaken the tarpaulin, leaving holes and cracks through which rainwater and cold air enter.

"When it rains, we put pots and pans under the holes and lift the mattresses off the ground. We sleep watching the water instead of sleeping," she said.

Unable to afford a new shelter, Hanaa buys used plastic sheets and attaches them to the damaged sections.

"We're no longer looking for a house. We just want a tarpaulin that will last us," she added.

Little protection

Hanaa's experience is shared by thousands of displaced families who have spent years moving from one location to another in search of safety, only to find themselves trapped in increasingly fragile shelters.

Mahmoud al-Arja, 39, moved several times with his wife and six children before settling in a tent in the al-Mawasi area in Khan Younis City in southern Gaza. Since the beginning of the war, he has bought three tents and repaired each of them repeatedly.

"The tarpaulin traps the heat. We open the sides and lift the cover, but the sun comes in from everywhere. The children sweat all the time and can't sleep," he told TNA.

The prolonged exposure to sunlight has weakened the material.

"The sun eats away at the tent. You buy one thinking it will protect you, but after a while, you discover its edges are starting to tear," he said.

When winter arrives, those damaged sections become entry points for rain and wind. Al-Arja uses plastic sheets, blankets and old clothes to seal the gaps before storms arrive.

"In winter, we fear the rain and wind. When water gets into the tent, there's nowhere else to take the children," he said.

The cost of keeping the shelter standing has also become a burden. Families need poles, ropes, plastic sheets and other materials, many of which have become increasingly expensive.

"We're not buying a tent; we're buying extra time," al-Arja added. "Work has stopped, income has stopped, but the expenses for the tent haven't."

Three years of trying to stay dry

Rasha Salama, a 36-year-old mother of three from Gaza City, could not afford a new tent for her four children, so she bought one that had been used by another family.

"I wasn't looking for a nice or new tent. I just wanted anything to give us a roof over our heads," she said.

During the summer, her children sleep drenched in sweat. Opening the tent from both sides provides some ventilation but exposes the family to dust, insects and direct sunlight.

"Some nights, the children want to sleep outside because it's too hot inside," she said.

Winter, however, brings greater anxiety.

"When it rains, the sand under the tent turns to mud, and water seeps in from several places. We lift the mattresses and pile things on top of each other, then wait for the rain to stop," she said.

Rasha keeps scraps of plastic and old fabric inside the tent for emergencies.

"Every piece has a purpose. This one's for patching a hole, this one's for under the mattresses, and this one's for when it rains," she said.

"We've been living like this for three years. The summer suffocates us, the winter terrifies us, and in between, we just try to keep the tent standing," she added.

Market built around survival

The prolonged displacement has created persistent demand for tarpaulins, ropes, wood and other shelter materials. But as families' incomes have collapsed, many can afford only the cheapest or second-hand options.

Abu Salah, a Gaza-based shelter-supplies vendor, told TNA that the market has changed dramatically during the war.

"At first, people would buy complete tents. Now, many just want a tarpaulin because they can't afford a whole set," he said.

Used tarpaulins have become increasingly common, while poles, wood and ropes are salvaged from damaged or abandoned shelters.

"There are families who ask for the cheapest thing available. Even if the tent has a hole, they say they will repair it themselves," he added.

Political analyst Akram Atallah believes the continued reliance on tents nearly three years into the war cannot be separated from the broader political and reconstruction crisis.

"The transformation of the tent from a temporary solution into a dwelling for years reflects the absence of any real prospect for reconstruction and places residents before a new form of daily depletion," Atallah told TNA.

Restrictions on building materials and shelter supplies, he said, delay reconstruction while leaving hundreds of thousands of Palestinians vulnerable to weather, poverty and disease.

"The continuation of these conditions deepens the disintegration of life," he added.