More than 800,000 people in Gaza now face dangerous flooding, the UN warns, as a pounding winter storm drenches the Strip and turns already-fragile camps into pools of mud and collapsing shelters.
For thousands still living under makeshift tents months into an American-imposed ceasefire, the rain is not just water—it’s another blow to a population already exhausted by war, displacement, and political limbo.
In Gaza City, Ghadir al-Adham watches rain trail through holes in the tent she shares with her husband and six children. Everything around her is wet: blankets, clothing, and the patchy ground beneath her family’s feet.
“Here we are, living a life of humiliation,” she told the BBC. “We want caravans. We want our homes rebuilt. We long for concrete to keep us warm.”
Two months after the ceasefire, the region remains stuck in the first phase of Donald Trump’s peace deal: Gaza split in two, its population scattered, and reconstruction frozen until a political breakthrough arrives.
Hostage Case Blocks Progress on Trump’s Peace Plan
That breakthrough hinges on one sticking point—Israel’s last unreturned hostage, Ran Gvili.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has insisted that Hamas must return all hostages, living or dead, before Israel moves to the next phase of the peace deal.
Gvili, a police officer who was recovering from a shoulder injury before rushing to defend kibbutz Alumim on 7 October, has never been found. His parents were told months ago that he did not survive.
Their home in Meitar is lined with yellow banners honoring him.
“They stole our kid,” his mother Talik said.
“They know where he is,” his father Itzik added. “They try to hide him. They’re playing with us.”
Hamas denies the allegation, saying Israel is avoiding commitments in the agreement. But until Gvili is found, the Israeli government—under pressure from grieving families and Washington—is unlikely to advance the deal.
Both Sides Hesitate as Tough Concessions Loom
The upcoming stage requires Hamas to hand over weapons and authority, and Israel to hand over security responsibilities to an international stabilisation force—moves that carry political risk for both.
Retired General Israel Ziv says neither side is eager to rush in.
“Hamas doesn’t want to lose control, and the Israeli side also prefers to stay in Gaza for political reasons,” he said. “Trump is the only one who can push both forward, and time is running out.”
Disarming Hamas remains the biggest obstacle. Without it, foreign nations are unlikely to send troops, and reconstruction—especially in Hamas-controlled areas—cannot begin. Netanyahu has already expressed doubt that any foreign force could achieve what Israel considers essential.
Washington Pushes for Momentum as Gaza Remains Split
Gaza currently sits divided by a “yellow line” marking Israeli troop limits—so significant that Israel’s military chief recently referred to it as a “new border line,” sparking worries of long-term entrenchment.
Trump, however, wants movement. He has promised to announce members of a newly created Board of Peace for Gaza early next year, calling it “one of the most legendary boards ever.”
Meanwhile, reports suggest Israel has begun clearing rubble for temporary housing in Rafah, intended to shelter tens of thousands who agree to move into Israeli-held territory and undergo security screening. A few families have already crossed, settling in camps run by armed groups backed by Israel. But many Gazans, including those critical of Hamas, say they refuse to live under Israeli control.
For them, the idea feels less like safety and more like surrender.
A Future at a Standstill
As storms flood camps, tents collapse, and families wait for homes that feel out of reach, the fate of Gaza hangs on decisions far beyond its borders. If Trump’s second phase stalls any longer, the Strip risks hardening into a permanently divided region—one half waiting for reconstruction, the other living under continued Israeli oversight.
For Ghadir al-Adham and her children, the political chessboard doesn’t matter as much as staying dry tonight. And as she wipes rainwater from her sleeping mats, one thing is clear: without progress, Gaza’s suffering won’t just continue—it will deepen.
