What Eid al-Adha is — and what arrived with it this year
Eid al-Adha is the Feast of Sacrifice. It commemorates Ibrahim's willingness to give what was most precious to him — and his trust that what was taken would be returned. For Muslims around the world, May 27, 2026 is a day of dawn prayers, of animals chosen carefully and slaughtered with intention, of meat shared with neighbors and the poor, of children in new clothes running between the houses of relatives they have not seen since the year before.
In Gaza, it is the third consecutive year this holiday has arrived under bombardment.
On the eve of Eid, Israeli airstrikes hit Gaza City, killing at least three people and injuring twelve. [4] The strikes came hours before the first Eid prayers were due to begin. They were not the first attacks of the week. Israeli forces have killed over 880 Palestinians since a ceasefire nominally took effect in October 2025, with more than 2,400 documented violations of that agreement recorded in the six months that followed. [5] At least 72,803 Palestinians have been killed since October 2023 — including 20,179 children. [5]
This is the context in which Gaza's families prepared for Eid al-Adha 2026.
The livestock breeder who now runs a restaurant
Mazen al-Jerjawi was one of Gaza's leading livestock breeders. Every year as Eid approached, families across Gaza would come to him — for sheep, for goats, for cattle. He would sell around 200 animals in the weeks before the holiday. His farm was a place of preparation and anticipation, the smells and sounds of animals a signal that the feast was coming.
Today he runs a small restaurant in Gaza City. He relies on frozen meat that enters the enclave under tight Israeli restrictions. [1]
Since October 2023, more than 90% of Gaza's livestock sector has been destroyed or damaged by Israeli strikes and blockade restrictions, according to Gaza's Chamber of Commerce and Industry. [1] The UN's Food and Agriculture Organization recorded that by November 2025, at least 80% of Gaza's sheep and 70% of its goats had been killed or died. The number of sheep and goats in Gaza has fallen from approximately 60,000 before the war to just 3,000 today. Before the war, a sheep cost $500–$600. Today, a sheep sells for up to $7,000 — when any can be found at all. [1]
"Many of my sheep died after a nearby house was bombed," al-Jerjawi said. "With every evacuation order, the number of livestock in Gaza dropped dramatically. When I was displaced, I had to slaughter my animals or sell them quickly so they would not be left behind under bombardment. In the end, how can someone care for livestock while trying to protect their wife and children?" [1]
The father who used to wake at dawn to choose a sheep
Abu Mohammed Saidam, 55, is a father of eight. He used to wake before dawn on the first day of Eid al-Adha and take his children to the livestock markets east of Gaza City. The family treated the choosing of the animal as a celebration in itself. His children would crowd around it on the journey home, laughing and arguing over its name. The meat was shared — with neighbors, relatives, poorer families nearby. Religious duty and social tradition at once.
Now the markets have largely disappeared. The few makeshift ones that remain hold thin animals that almost no one can afford to approach. Around Saidam as he spoke, rows of tents stretched across muddy ground where thousands of displaced Palestinians have been living for two years. [2]
The daughter who asked for a doll
Hazem Shalla, 44, is a father of five from the Gaza City neighborhood of Shuja'iyya. He and his family have been displaced to southern Gaza for two years. Last Eid, his wife was pregnant with their son Ahmed and suffering from malnutrition. He could not buy new clothes for his children or give them eidya — the traditional Eid gift of money. He saved everything he had for food. [3]
His young daughter Mesk asked him to buy her a doll.
"Instead of buying the doll," he told Mondoweiss, "I used the money to buy a kilogram of flour." [3]
This year, a ceasefire has been nominally in place since October. Food has entered Gaza again. But the displacement has not ended. Hazem's parents are in Gaza City. His older brother is displaced in a camp near Deir al-Balah. The family cannot gather.
The father on the other side of a border that will not open
Hassan Ibrahim Al-Smiri, 31, is a nurse. He holds Libyan citizenship and was working in Libya when he returned to Gaza in 2023 to visit his family and get married. The war began before he could leave.
As the war continued, he and his wife became parents to two daughters. He watched his plan — a stable job, a house in Libya, a life outside — collapse entirely. "Whenever I look at my daughters, I feel sad for them," he told Mondoweiss. [3]
In March 2026, he managed to return to Libya through a rare opening. His wife and daughters remain in Gaza. He has been trying to get them out through the border crossings, but the crossings remain closed despite the ceasefire.
This Eid, he will mark the holiday in Libya while his family marks it in a tent in central Gaza. He will try to send money. Most of it will be consumed by commission fees exceeding 50%. He does not know what his daughters will eat. [3]
The man who has not seen his family in months
Eyad Ballol is 55 years old. He has three sons. He lost his home near the Netzarim corridor — the strip of land the Israeli military has cleared of inhabitants and uses as a military zone cutting through central Gaza. His wife and sons went to her parents' home in Nuseirat. He could not follow — the house was overcrowded. He set up a tent in Deir al-Balah.
Nuseirat and Deir al-Balah are less than four miles apart. In two years, he has managed to visit his family four times. The destruction of Gaza's infrastructure, the targeting of vehicles, the unpredictability of Israeli movement — all of it made even four miles nearly impossible. [3]
Last Eid al-Adha, he went three days without a loaf of bread. "Last year, instead of Eid celebrations and rituals, there was displacement, famine, death," he said.
This year, he plans to try to make the journey to Nuseirat. He has no cash for eidya. He cannot buy new clothes for his sons. But he hopes to buy at least one kilogram of meat so they can sit together as a family.
The feast of sacrifice — and what has already been given
Eid al-Adha commemorates a sacrifice followed by return. The animal given in place of the son. The meat shared with those who have nothing. There is a logic of restoration at the heart of the holiday.
In Gaza this year, there is no restoration. There is only the accumulation of what has been taken — farms, animals, houses, neighborhoods, the ability to give a child new clothes or a doll or a single kilogram of meat on the one day a year that was meant for abundance.
Muhammed Aburiyala, a schoolteacher from Gaza City, put it plainly: "The ritual itself, and the feeling of sharing it with others, has disappeared. Without sacrifices and the ability to share, there is no Eid." He added something that goes beyond the holiday: "If livestock were allowed into Gaza, it would sustain many professions — veterinarians, livestock breeders, farmers, butchers, restaurant owners. This is not what Israel wants. They want to paralyse society and prevent it from becoming self-sufficient." [1]