The intersection of grief, hunger, and motherhood emerges repeatedly in women’s accounts. A mother of four from Gaza said: “I cry at night so my children cannot see. I tell them stories to distract them from their hunger, but inside I am broken.” A widow and grandmother caring for orphaned grandchildren summarized the despair: “Our homes are gone, our past is gone, our health is gone. We live in fear; our hearts are always shaking. We barely have the power to do things. We feel powerless to answer our children’s cries when they are hungry. Israel is torturing us with every possible means.” A widowed mother of three stated: “Some nights I lie awake and feel like my mind is collapsing under the weight of fear and hunger. My body is weak, but it is my thoughts that scare me most. I tell myself to stay strong for the children, but inside I feel broken.” A mother, nurse, and widow from Rafah recounted the trauma of losing her son under bombardment: “Whenever I close my eyes, I hear his voice calling me, Mama help me. I wake up weeping, remembering that I could not save my own son. He was terrified and in pain, and I stood powerless, forced to watch his suffering. I have spent my life saving others as a nurse, yet I was not allowed to save my own child. It is a nightmare that does not end.” Children’s trauma multiplies the psychological burden of hunger and starvation. UNICEF has warned of widespread child trauma in Gaza, manifesting in nightmares, regression, and acute anxiety.70 One mother explained: “My son wets himself whenever he hears the drones. I hold him, but my own body is shaking. I cannot show him my fear.” Women spoke frequently about taking on their children’s trauma. One woman said, “The hardest part is when my children ask for food and I have nothing left to give. Their eyes cut through me like knives,” while another noted, “The children are traumatized. They no longer ask about school, they only ask if they will eat tomorrow. To soothe them, I take them by the sea at night. I tell them to listen to the waves and imagine a better life, that one day they will be safe and full.” Key informants repeatedly noted that Gaza is experiencing a collective psychological collapse. They also spoke about their own suffering, explaining that they endure the same devastation as those they are trying to support. A female frontline humanitarian worker shared: “I lost half of my family, my home, and I am starving. Yet I have to get dressed the next morning and push myself to visit the shelters and provide all the support I can. It is my job.” Another female humanitarian worker stressed: “Women carry the hunger, the bombs, the grief, and on top of that, they carry everyone else’s pain. We are not coping. We are living in hell.” 20