Bartering returns to Gaza as hungry people swap flour, lentils and shampoo

In Gaza, where war has choked the economy and blockades have emptied shop shelves, the millennia-old system of bartering is making a comeback.

No longer a relic of ancient times or a plotline in historical dramas, exchanging goods has become a daily necessity for thousands living under Israel's siege. Barter groups, once rare, are now among the most active online communities in Gaza.

“I used to hear about bartering in historical TV series,” Marwan Al Muqayed, 33, a father of two living in temporary accommodation in Gaza city’s Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood, told The National. “But now it’s how I survive. It’s become a way of life.”

With traditional commerce crippled by closed borders, rocketing prices and a severe cash shortage, residents of Gaza are turning to Facebook and WhatsApp groups to exchange goods such as lentils for flour, sugar for rice and soap for shampoo.

Palestinians are living under what UN-backed experts have called a worst-case scenario of famine, with Israel allowing only modest numbers of aid lorries to enter the strip. Dozens of children have died from starvation, according to Gaza health officials, with doctors and aid workers feeling the strain as they try to salvage the situation.

Issa Al Namnam, 44, a father of six, never imagined he would be sourcing baby milk for his youngest child through Facebook. “The war and the lack of cash forced me, like many others, to rely on bartering,” he said. “Sometimes I need oil or sugar but have no money. So I find someone who has what I need and offer them something I have.”

These grass roots exchanges have become lifelines. Mr Al Namnam once swapped flour for a can of baby milk, and traded canned meat for spices he could not find anywhere else.

It’s not an ideal system. “Bartering is old and not very efficient,” he admits. “But in wartime it’s what we have.”

For Mohammad Qusay‘a, 29, bartering is not only practical but the only viable option. A resident of Gaza’s Safatawi neighbourhood, he rarely uses money except for buying a few vegetables. “Most of my needs I cover through exchanges,” he told The National. “I check the WhatsApp group daily, see what people are offering and arrange swaps.”

With cash in short supply and banknotes deteriorating to the point where vendors have stopped accepting them, people were left with little choice. Mr Qusay'a has exchanged items such as dates, sugar, flour, shampoo and soap.

“I got tired of struggling with useless cash,” Mr Qusay‘a said. “Bartering is the only thing that works now. It helps me provide for my family without needing money.”

When Gaza’s border crossings were sealed in March, Mr Al Muqayed had the foresight to stockpile a few staple goods. But as the blockade dragged on, supplies dwindled and prices soared.

“I bought what I could at the start but when things ran out I had to buy from the market and prices were insane,” he says. “That’s when I turned to bartering.”

In one exchange, he traded lentils for pasta and flour. In another, sugar for oil and rice. With Gaza’s economy in freefall and the currency nearly worthless, residents are left clinging to community-driven solutions.

“Prices have doubled, even tripled. People can’t afford anything any more,” he says. “Bartering might not be ideal but it helps us get through this.”

Though most see bartering as a stopgap until the war ends and normal trade resumes, its role in the daily life of Gazans is undeniable. In the face of financial collapse, isolation and hardship, people are building their own alternative economy, one swap at a time.

“For now, bartering is how we survive,” says Mr Al Namnam. “Until the war ends and the shelves are full again, this is the system we trust.”