Palestinian Women in the Gaza Strip During the War, 2023–September 2026

War is often measured in the cold arithmetic of casualties, the count of displaced families, and the tonnage of destroyed buildings. These numbers are necessary to grasp the scale of a catastrophe, but they cannot capture how daily life is reorganized when a society collapses. For women, the loss of a home is not merely the loss of shelter; it is the loss of a private space to bathe, a secure place to change clothes, and a safe environment to care for children or manage the biological realities of their bodies. When a crisis strikes, it does not weigh equally on every person. A shortage of water means something different for a menstruating woman than it does for a man, just as the collapse of a hospital affects a pregnant woman in ways it does not affect a single man. This reality forms the basis of a new study examining the specific, gendered toll of the war in the Gaza Strip, looking beyond general statistics to understand how survival is experienced differently by women and girls.

The research, conducted by independent researcher Ahmed Arar Alatawna, does not rely on new surveys or interviews. Instead, it is a careful synthesis of existing reports from major international organizations, including the United Nations and humanitarian agencies, covering the period from October 2023 through September 2026. The author analyzed documents that track everything from food security and water access to mental health and the rise of households led solely by women. The goal was to determine whether the humanitarian response is treating women's needs as secondary or if they are being recognized as central to survival. The study finds that the crisis is far from neutral; it interacts with the specific biological and social roles of women to create a unique set of dangers and deprivations that standard aid often fails to address.

The evidence paints a picture of a population where the basic infrastructure of dignity has been dismantled. By September 2026, reports indicated that nearly one in four households in Gaza was headed by a woman, a figure that had doubled since the start of the conflict. These women, many of whom had lost their husbands, were suddenly responsible for the entire burden of feeding, sheltering, and protecting their families, often while navigating a landscape where aid distribution lines were long and dangerous. The study highlights that when aid is distributed in a way that requires standing in long queues or traveling long distances, it inadvertently excludes those who cannot leave their children behind or who lack the physical mobility to compete in a crowd.

One of the most critical findings concerns the management of menstruation. The research notes that menstruation does not stop during war, yet the supplies and privacy required to manage it safely often disappear. Estimates suggest that around 700,000 women and girls were struggling to manage their periods due to a lack of sanitary products, clean water, and private toilets. Without these essentials, women are forced to ration materials, use improvised cloth, or delay changing, which leads to health risks and a profound loss of dignity. This is not a minor inconvenience but a fundamental barrier to health that affects a woman's ability to move freely and safely in a crowded shelter.

Water insecurity further compounds these challenges. While water shortages affect everyone, the study explains that women, who are typically responsible for washing clothes, cleaning, and caring for children, face a heavier workload. Reports from mid-2026 indicated that 82 percent of families were water insecure, with up to 70 percent unable to collect even the minimum amount of water needed for daily survival. For a woman managing a household, this means hours of physical labor just to secure water, often exposing her and her daughters to safety risks while they travel to distant collection points. The lack of safe, private sanitation facilities also increases the risk of harassment and abuse, turning the simple act of using a toilet into a source of fear.

The study also addresses the often-overlooked issue of sexual and reproductive health. It argues that pregnancy and childbirth cannot be postponed until conditions improve. The collapse of health services meant that around 540,000 women lacked access to reproductive health care, including prenatal checkups, safe delivery, and emergency obstetric services. The research explicitly rejects the idea that these are non-essential services that can wait. For pregnant women and new mothers, delays in care can lead to irreversible harm or death. The findings suggest that a truly effective humanitarian response must integrate these services from the very beginning, rather than treating them as an afterthought once general emergency care is established.

Violence against women presents another complex layer. The study notes that while reported incidents of gender-based violence increased by 27 percent in the first half of 2026, this rise likely reflects both a worsening of actual risks and an improvement in reporting mechanisms. In a crisis, survivors often lack the privacy to speak out or the safety to seek help. The overcrowding of shelters and the stress of survival create an environment where abuse can flourish, yet the very conditions that cause the abuse also make it harder to document. The research emphasizes that a low number of formal reports should not be mistaken for a lack of violence; rather, it often signals a breakdown in the systems that allow women to seek protection.

Perhaps the most significant structural change identified is the shift in family dynamics. With so many men killed or missing, the number of female-headed households has surged, fundamentally altering the social fabric of the region. These women face intersecting barriers: limited access to employment, the heavy burden of unpaid care work, and the difficulty of navigating aid systems designed for a different reality. The study argues that recovery efforts must be built on the assumption that a large portion of the population will be led by women. Rebuilding infrastructure without rebuilding the support systems for these households—such as childcare, economic support, and legal aid—would simply reproduce the inequalities of the war in the peace that follows.

Ultimately, the research concludes that dignity is not a luxury to be added later; it is a core component of survival. To treat the needs of women as optional extras is to misunderstand the nature of the crisis. True humanitarian equality requires assistance that is designed with the specific needs of women and girls in mind, from the layout of shelters to the distribution of food and water. It means providing private toilets, safe spaces for women to gather, and access to health care that respects their bodily autonomy. The study suggests that by recognizing these gendered realities, aid organizations can move beyond simply keeping people alive to helping them live with safety and respect. The path to recovery, the author argues, depends on understanding that war is not biologically or socially neutral, and that the survival of a community depends on the survival of its women.