In northern Gaza, where survival often hinges on resilience, one woman has turned tragedy into sustenance. After losing her sight in an Israeli air strike, Warda Abu Jarad has opened a small bakery, a quiet act of defiance in a place struggling to hold on to normalcy.

Abu Jarad, a mother from Beit Lahia, was blinded months ago when shrapnel from an air strike tore through her home. With Gaza’s economy shattered, food scarce, and most families dependent on sporadic aid, she began baking cookies and bread at home to support her children. Her small oven now operates as both livelihood and lifeline, supplying neighbours with affordable baked goods while giving her family a modest income.

The bakery sits in a region ravaged by repeated bombardments, long power outages, and shortages of flour, fuel, and clean water. According to Al Jazeera reporting, Abu Jarad works by relying on touch and memory, guided by her daughter when the electricity cuts out or the dough needs adjusting.

Her story illustrates the deep humanitarian fractures inside Gaza as the conflict continues. Beyond headlines and ceasefire negotiations, women like Abu Jarad embody the civilian cost of war — navigating injury, displacement, and economic collapse while trying to preserve dignity. The reopening of microbusinesses like her bakery, even under extreme hardship, highlights the ways ordinary Gazans try to rebuild pockets of routine despite systemic breakdown.

It also exposes a widening gap between political rhetoric and humanitarian reality. International organisations warn that Gaza’s infrastructure is nearing total failure, yet people like Abu Jarad are left to improvise their own survival without sustained support. Her determination underscores what aid agencies commonly describe as Gaza’s “unbroken resilience,” but also signals how close many families are to the edge.

Stories like hers challenge governments and humanitarian partners to reassess what “recovery” means in Gaza. Beyond emergency aid, long-term rebuilding will need to prioritise small-scale livelihoods, access to supplies, and trauma-informed care. For now, Abu Jarad’s bakery is a symbol of persistence, but it also reflects how civilians are forced to absorb the consequences of a conflict with no clear end.

Her oven offers warmth in a place defined by loss, a reminder that even in Gaza’s harshest days, people continue to carve out fragments of hope where they can.