Tens of thousands of girls in Gaza have experienced puberty since October 2023. At an already sensitive time, these girls have been left with no access to proper menstrual supplies or education about the transition to adulthood.
12-year-old Sara was sharing a single classroom with more than 40 people when she got her first period. Her family were displaced in the Rimal neighbourhood, Gaza City, where they had found shelter in a repurposed school after fleeing Israeli bombardment.
Unprepared for this moment, Sara had no hygiene supplies or kits to ease the surprise of menstruating for the first time. Recalling this time, her mother says:
“Severe overcrowding in the classroom turned a natural biological milestone into a source of fear, guilt and the urge to hide away.”
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The trauma of this moment affected Sara so much that she became completely emotionally withdrawn and “refused to eat food just to avoid having to use the contaminated public bathroom”.
For Sara, this moment offered only the “overwhelming terror and anxiety of knowing that having a period meant an immense added burden and pressure under these living conditions”.
Many of Gaza’s sexual and reproductive health programmes closed down quickly when the genocide began because of safety concerns for staff. But this has left a gap in the psychological support provided and is impacting girls’ understanding of their own bodies as they hit puberty.
On the withdrawal of these education programmes, Sara’s sister said: “Girls reaching puberty during wartime requires sensitive humanitarian intervention that honours both their mental health and physical development.”
Instead, this generation of girls is reliant only on the women around them to provide the limited support they can offer.
Sara’s sister recalls how she crafted a cloth substitute for Sara to reuse in place of sanitary pads, which quickly became extortionately priced at local markets – if they could be found at all. Her sister also borrowed pain relief medicine from neighbours to soothe cramps.
But Palestinian academic Israa Saleh, a humanitarian worker for Medicines Du Monde, argues that this community resilience shouldn’t become acceptable to the international community.
“We hate the term resilient because it dehumanises us,” Israa says, adding: “It’s so sad to say this because we spent two years proving to the world that we deserve to live.”
She continues: “Part of the silence is that [menstruation] is not recognised as a public health problem,” meaning infrastructure projects are not designed to prioritise period care.
But with what Save the Children describes as a “siege” designed to create “chaos, starvation and death”, NGOs are finding it impossible to provide even limited menstrual hygiene support.
13-year-old Saffiyah’s first ever period started in a crowded room, surrounded by relatives. The experience triggered “a panic attack and uncontrollable crying”.
Her mother calmed her down, tore up a soft piece of clean cotton cloth, prepared it for her and shielded her in a quiet corner of the tent.
But without proper supplies and educational materials to support Saffiyah through this moment, her family could only do so much.
Read: Israel continues to deprive Palestinians of clean water, hygiene products, rights group says
The distress of going through puberty in a war zone has also left Saffiyah with deep mental scars. Her family noted that she still displays “constant fear and confusion [when her period occurs], and will avoid leaving the tent or attending temporary learning spaces due to panic over leaking”.
Not only has this had a profound effect on Saffiyah’s confidence, but it is continuing to affect her future by limiting her access to education – which has already been impacted for almost three years.
Education is not the only part of life affected by this issue. For young girls like Saffiyah, periods and a fear of leaking in public have started to impact their ability to undertake even the simplest of daily tasks, with many forced to remain enclosed in tents until the bleeding has passed.
Saffiyah’s mother has already spoken to shelter supervisors on her daughter’s behalf to ask for hygiene kits specifically tailored to the needs of young girls. But with food and medical aid taking priority at checkpoints, period supplies remain in short supply.
Saffiyah’s family concluded by criticising the lack of support for girls going through puberty, saying:
“There are no dedicated programmes for young adolescent girls from aid organisations. The focus remains almost entirely on food packages without considering age-specific needs.”
They noted that the crisis is not just an issue of hygiene items, but that “young girls urgently require emotional and educational support alongside age-appropriate hygiene kits.”
Without sufficient infrastructure, older women have had to make sacrifices to support young girls through puberty.
Dina, who lives in Nuseirat camp with her two young girls, shares a tent with several neighbouring families.
Before the war began, they had complete independence and private access to personal care products for every family member without needing to share. But now they rely entirely on mutual support from other women in the camp.
Dina now supports her daughters by setting specific hidden hours to wash clothes and cloth substitutes away from public view.
She adds that “we have created a rotation system to wash cloth rags and dry them discreetly in a corner draped with bedsheets” to find some privacy even within their shared tent.
Dina notes that it is only through shared female compassion that her daughters have had any protection at all as they go through puberty, saying:
“Women’s solidarity is the only safety net preserving women’s dignity in the complete absence of basic living necessities.”
Ayah has also been caring for her grandchildren as they approach puberty in the midst of the genocide and recalls “sharing the very last piece of clean cloth between two young girls on the exact same day to handle an emergency and prevent embarrassment”.
Ayah adds that “the spirit of sisterhood and mutual support among women remains the ultimate shield against the harshness of displacement”.
She also recalls lending pain medicine and boiled herbal drinks, like anise, across tents to soothe cramps and the menstrual pain of younger women in nearby tents.
“Living in crowded classrooms or tents dissolved personal boundaries,” Ayah says, “turning the management of bleeding and periods into a shared effort.
Rebuilding infrastructure across Gaza continues to be a complex challenge for humanitarian workers, but the female solidarity that has emerged to protect young girls cannot be considered an alternative to proper menstrual support.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
