You try to buy a kilo of flour in Gaza.
You open your wallet; What is inside? A score at 10 wadded shekel, barely maintained together by a tape of adhesive tape. Nobody wants it; It is all the waste now.
The score at 10 Shekel, normally worth around $ 3, was formerly the most commonly used invoice in daily life. Now he is no longer in circulation. Not officially – only practically. It was used beyond recognition. The sellers will not accept it. Buyers cannot use it.
There is no fresh money. No replenishment.
Other tickets follow the fate of the 10 shekels, especially the smallest.
If you pay with a note of 100 shekel for a purchase of 80 Shekel, the seller will probably not be able to return the other 20 due to the poor physical condition of banknotes.
Many notes are torn or recorded together, and whole stands now exist just to repair damaged currency so that it can be reused. Everything is better than nothing.
But disintegration of banknotes is not the only problem we have in Gaza.
Officials spent months without salary. NGOs are unable to transfer wages to their employees. Families cannot send funds. What once argued the financial structure of Gaza has disappeared. There is no mention of his return. Just silence.
The money is stuck. Trapped behind closed systems and political barriers.
If you manage to get money from external sources – perhaps a cousin from Ramallah or a brother in Egypt – this has a cost. A brutal. If you receive 1,000 shekels ($ 300), the agent will give you 500. This is true, the commission rate on cash withdrawals in Gaza is now 50%.
There are no banks to provide such withdrawals or supervise transfers.
The panels are still there. Bank of Palestine. Cairo Amman Bank. Al Quds Bank. But the doors are closed, the windows are dusty and the interior is empty. No distribution of distribution of automatic distributors.
There are only brokers, some with links with the black market and smugglers, who can somehow obtain money. They take huge cuts to distribute it, in exchange for a bank transfer to their accounts.
Each withdrawal looks like a disguised flight to transaction. Even so people continue to use this system. They have no choice.
Do you have a bank card? Great. Try to use it?
There is no power. There is no internet. No poster machines. When you show your card to a seller, they shake their heads.
People print screenshots of account sales to which they cannot access. Some are walking with expired banking documents, hoping that someone will think that it is “quite good” as a guarantee of remuneration.
Nobody does it.
There are a few sellers who accept the so-called “digital wallets”, but it is little, just like the people who have them.
In Gaza today, the money you cannot receive is equivalent to any money.
And so people have to use other means.
At the market, I saw a woman standing with a plastic bag of sugar. Another held a bottle of cooking oil. They haven’t talked much. I just nodded. Exchange. LEFT.
This is what “shopping” in Gaza is like at the moment. Exchange what you have. One kilo of lenses for two kilos of flour. A bottle of bleach for a little rice. A baby jacket for several onions.
There is no stability. One day, your article will be worth something. The next day, nobody wants it. Prices are assumptions. The value is emotional. Everything is negotiable.
“I exchanged my coat for a bag of diapers,” said my uncle Waleed, a father of twins. “He looked at me as if I were a beggar. I felt like I was giving up part of my life. ”
It is not a return to simpler moments. This is what happens when the systems disappear. When the money dies. When families are forced to sacrifice dignity for survival.
People don’t just suffer – they shrink. They reduce their expectations. They stop dreaming. They stop planning. What future can you plan when you can’t afford tomorrow?
“I sold my gold bracelet,” said Lina, my neighbor per tent. “It was for emergencies. But now every day is an emergency. “
Gaza’s economy has not collapsed due to poor policy or internal mismanagement. He was broken on purpose.
The occupation has not only blocked the goods entering Gaza; He also blocked the currency and with him, any feeling of financial control. He destroyed the banking system. He made liquidity a weapon.
Cutting Gaza silver is part of a larger seat. There is no need to shoot to destroy a people. Not just the ability to live.
You cannot pay for bread, for water, for medicines, so how do you keep your life?
If this trend continues, Gaza will be the first modern company to return completely to barter. There is no wages. There is no official market. Only personal professions and informal offers. And even these will not last forever. Because happens when there is nothing left to exchange?
If this is not addressed, Gaza will be more than a simple seat area. It will be a place where the concepts of money, economics and fairness will die forever.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.
