A single surviving hive gives Gaza beekeeper a path to rebuild
After losing nearly all her hives in the Gaza war, beekeeper Niveen al-Ashkar rebuilds her business from a single surviving colony, amid an industry pushed to the brink.
When Niveen al-Ashkar returned to her home in Jabalia, northern Gaza, after nearly two years of displacement, she found mostly rubble. But amid the destruction, a small swarm of bees emerged from a crack — the only survivors of the 300 hives her family once kept.
That single hive has become the foundation for rebuilding the family's beekeeping business. Today, the 43-year-old mother of nine tends five hives on the roof of her damaged home, near the Yellow Line where Israeli forces withdrew under the October ceasefire.
Al-Ashkar is now the family's primary breadwinner. Her son was injured in the war and left with a disability in his hand, while her husband suffered a back injury that has left him unable to move. Selling honey is her main source of income.
The industry she is trying to revive has been devastated. Ibrahim al-Dabbeh, head of the Cooperative Association of Beekeepers in the Gaza Strip, says the war destroyed more than 95% of the sector. Before the conflict, Gaza had over 30,000 hives, more than 450 experienced beekeepers, and over 450 novices — with more than 1,000 families depending on the trade.
Most hives were in agricultural areas near the border, now inside the Yellow Line and inaccessible. Al-Dabbeh himself owned more than 400 hives; he now keeps just 25 on the roof of a heavily damaged building in Gaza City's Tal al-Hawa neighborhood.
Supplies are scarce. Beekeeping equipment and medicines are hard to obtain, and al-Dabbeh says Israel has refused to allow beekeeping materials into Gaza. "The tools used for beekeeping are no longer available as they were before," he said, describing the sector as "almost extinct."
For al-Ashkar, the challenges are immediate. Her remaining bees cannot produce enough honey, and her equipment was destroyed. She now sells beeswax instead of pure honey. Before the war, a kilogram of honey cost about 60 shekels; today she prices it at 150 shekels — a rate she says is set out of sympathy for the sick and wounded, even though demand is hard to meet.
Despite the obstacles, the surviving hive offers a starting point. "We found a swarm of bees emerging from the rubble," al-Ashkar said. "This hive was the only one out of 300 that survived."