In a humble hotel in Ramallah, occupied West Bank, nearly 100 displaced Palestinians from Gaza, most of whom are receiving medical treatment, quietly await iftar. They are seated on plastic chairs around long tables, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.
They carry stories of tragedy. Some lean on crutches, while others are missing limbs. Parents watch over their sick children, their faces etched with exhaustion.
Ahmed Abu al-Am and his volunteers move swiftly, distributing meals. A few volunteers unload trays and boxes of food from vehicles that have just arrived from the kitchen, located about 15 minutes away.
Abu al-Am has been running the Sidi Shayban communal kitchen since 2002, serving iftar every Ramadan.
As he goes around the hotel distributing meals, he worries that there may not be enough food. “We do what we can,” he says. “But we can only distribute what we receive from donors.”
Among the displaced individuals is Haya Nahal, 36, who arrived in Ramallah with her daughter, Raghd, two months before the war. Raghd, 11, has a neurological disorder, and Haya had to leave her husband and son behind to seek treatment for Raghd in Ramallah.
Beside her sits Laila, an elderly woman from Gaza, who arrived in occupied East Jerusalem with her granddaughter, Amira, who had cancer. Unfortunately, Amira passed away at the age of nine, leaving Laila stranded and unable to return home.
As iftar begins, the room falls silent as people take their first bites and whisper prayers of gratitude. Abu al-Am and his team ensure that everyone is served, always being the last to break their fast.
In the kitchen, Abu al-Am moves swiftly between pots and stoves, preparing meals for the visitors. The aroma of slow-cooked meat, onions, and fragrant rice fills the air as volunteers work with efficiency.
The kitchen provides meals for those who eat on-site and also for those who take food home. The volunteers also deliver food to a nearby hotel where displaced Palestinians from Gaza have been staying due to the war.
For Abu al-Am, this routine is second nature. The kitchen’s inception dates back to the second Intifada when the Israeli siege on the West Bank left many families in need of assistance.
The kitchen has grown and adapted over the years, and it continues to serve the community’s needs. Since gaining traction on social media in 2015, it has been known as a tribute to a historic neighborhood where a revered saint is buried.
In the midst of pandemics, occupation, and economic hardships, the kitchen has remained steadfast in its mission to provide support to families in need. Public iftars, known as “tables of mercy,” have been a long-standing tradition during Ramadan, bringing communities together in the spirit of generosity and solidarity.
Despite the challenges posed by the pandemic, the war in Gaza, and tightened restrictions in the West Bank, the kitchen continues to operate, adapting to ensure that supplies reach those in need. The kitchen’s work is entirely funded by donations, and it strives to reach as many families as possible, regardless of the challenges they face. “Saya bahkan tidak tahu tempat ini ada sampai mereka membantu saya secara finansial selama masa sulit,” katanya, sibuk membungkus kontainer makanan, berpakaian rapi dalam seragam sukarelawan.
Saat COVID dan perkembangan dunia lainnya melanda Tepi Barat, lebih banyak orang mulai mengandalkan dapur seperti ini [Al Jazeera]
Para pengorganisir dapur membantu membayar sebuah ruangan agar Shireen dan anak-anaknya bisa pindah, dan terus membantunya secara finansial melalui sumbangan yang mereka kumpulkan.
Tanpa gelar formal, Shireen kesulitan mencari pekerjaan. “Saya tidak mampu membayar sewa atau biaya sekolah untuk anak-anak saya,” katanya. “Tapi berkat dapur ini, kami bisa melewatinya. Sekarang, yang terbaik yang bisa saya lakukan adalah memberi balik. Saya membantu mempersiapkan makanan dan membersihkan, dan anak-anak saya bergabung dengan Abu al-Am dalam mendistribusikan makanan, terutama selama Ramadan.”
Sukarelawan termuda berusia 14 tahun, Mustafa. Membawa kotak yogurt dan minuman botol, ia bergerak cepat antara pos. “Saya di sini karena saya yatim piatu, dan saya ingin membuat orang lain bahagia,” katanya. “Menjadi sukarelawan mengubah saya. Ibuku selalu bilang padaku, ‘Kamu terlalu lembut untuk jenis pekerjaan ini.’ Tapi saya ingin membuktikan padanya – dan pada diri saya sendiri – bahwa saya bisa melakukannya.”
Tulisan ini diterbitkan bekerja sama dengan Egab.