n the early hours of Saturday morning, as the sun crept above the shattered skyline of southern Gaza, desperate Palestinians seeking food were met not with bread, but with bullets. At least 32 people were killed and more than 100 others wounded as Israeli forces opened fire on crowds of civilians near two aid distribution hubs operated by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), east of Khan Younis and north-west of Rafah. Most of the victims were young men and teenagers, but children were among the dead. Many more now fight for their lives in overcrowded, under-resourced hospitals. Survivors described the chaos in one word: “massacre.” “We Shouted ‘Food, Food’ – They Shot At Us” These were the words of Sana’a al-Jaberi, a 55-year-old woman who fled the carnage. Her account, echoed by multiple eyewitnesses and survivors, paints a horrifying picture of indiscriminate violence. Troops reportedly fired from tanks, from drones, from machine guns — surrounding the masses of starving Palestinians and shooting into the crowd. “They encircled us and started firing directly at us,” said Akram Aker, a survivor of the Teina attack, which occurred just a few miles from a GHF distribution site. Another witness, Mahmoud Mokeimar, said the crowd was walking peacefully toward the aid hub when Israeli forces began firing. “It was a massacre,” he repeated. “The occupation opened fire at us indiscriminately.” At Nasser hospital, where more than 25 of the dead were taken, doctors struggled to cope with the wounded, many of whom were shot in the head and chest. Dr. Mohamed Saker, head of the hospital’s nursing department, said: “The situation is difficult and tragic. We desperately need supplies. We cannot keep treating dozens of critical injuries every day without equipment.” Hunger is No Longer a Slow Death – It’s a Bullet The people marching to these aid hubs were not armed militants. They were fathers, brothers, young men, and boys — some of them children — risking their lives to bring back a bag of flour, a sack of rice, or a few cans of food to their starving families. Gaza is on the brink of famine, according to the UN and humanitarian groups. But now even the act of searching for food — the most basic human instinct — has become a potential death sentence. One week earlier, Karam and Lulu al-Ghussain, siblings aged just 9 and 10, were killed by an Israeli missile while collecting water. Now, others have been gunned down for seeking food. The pattern is unmistakable. This is not simply a humanitarian crisis. This is systemic, targeted brutality — a reality in which daily survival is criminalized and punished with lethal force. Denials, Discrepancies, and a Deafening Silence The Israeli military claimed they had fired only “warning shots” at a group of suspects who had approached troops near Rafah overnight. They insisted that any incidents occurred hours before GHF hubs opened and far from the aid distribution centers. GHF echoed this narrative, shifting responsibility onto the victims: “We have repeatedly warned aid seekers not to travel to our sites overnight.” But these claims fall flat against eyewitness testimony. People on the ground say they were not looting or rushing the hubs — they were walking toward them when troops opened fire. Many were gunned down from a distance, with no warning, no confrontation, and no chance to flee. Meanwhile, the international response remains muted. No urgent UN Security Council resolution. No emergency summits. No collective outrage like that expressed when other armed groups target civilians. In the face of repeated massacres, the world continues to speak in the passive voice — “casualties occurred,” “people died” — refusing to name the perpetrator or confront the cruelty. A Massacre by Any Other Name Let us speak clearly: when a heavily armed military force opens fire on starving civilians, it is not a “tragic incident.” It is a massacre. And if such an event were committed by a non-state actor or a Muslim group, there would be no hesitation in calling it terrorism. The word would be on every headline. International condemnation would be swift and severe. But in Gaza, when the assailant wears a uniform backed by a Western ally, the world averts its eyes. The massacre is sanitized. The victims buried, often nameless. The accountability — absent. How Many More Must Die for Food? As Gaza’s hospitals overflow with the wounded and its graveyards swell with the dead, the fundamental question is no longer political or military. It is moral: How many more Palestinians must be killed just for trying to eat or drink? How many more children must die in line for water before we call it what it is? How many more parents must bury their sons with bullet wounds to the chest before the world admits that this is not defense — this is destruction? Until that reckoning comes, the people of Gaza will continue to die — not just of hunger or thirst, but from the bullets that greet them when they try to survive.