In Gaza's tent camps, a fragile calm brings little comfort

The skies over Gaza have fallen quieter in recent days, but for the thousands living in makeshift camps, the absence of bombs has not brought peace of mind. A fragile calm has settled over the territory, yet it is a stillness laced with anxiety rather than relief.

Displaced residents, who have seen previous truces collapse into renewed violence, are cautious about reading too much into the lull. Youssef Maarouf, who fled his home in Jabaliya and now lives in an overcrowded camp in Gaza City, said the relative quiet offers a glimmer of hope. "We are hoping that this truce will hold, and the situation improves, and we return to our homes," he said.

Others are far less optimistic. Abdel Basit Abdel Hadi, displaced from Beit Hanoun, recalled that a few days ago, 12 people were killed in a single day despite talk of a ceasefire. "We no longer predict anything correctly," he said, adding that he wants a formal truce that addresses the needs of students unable to travel and patients who cannot access care.

A recent announcement that Hamas had agreed to disarm was seen by some as a small sign of progress, but many fear it will not lead to an Israeli withdrawal or allow them to return home. Ahmad Al-Shareef, a resident of Gaza City, said the exchange of hostages had not changed the situation. "Disarmament will also not be in our favor," he warned.

Life in the camps remains grim. Garbage piles up near tents, and overcrowding has led to poor sanitation and the spread of disease. Soada Abu Abdu, a 64-year-old displaced woman, described the desperation of daily survival. "We and our children are dead. We have caught all diseases and cancers," she said, appealing to international powers to intervene. "We want to live. Find us a solution. Abide by the agreements."

With most of Gaza's two million people still displaced, the demand for a durable end to the conflict is urgent. But for now, the only certainty is uncertainty.