Gaza Farmers Risk Lives to Reclaim Land as Israel Expands Buffer Zones

The moment the Gaza ceasefire began in October, Mohammed al-Slakhy didn't hesitate. He and his family headed straight to their farms in Gaza City's Zeitoun area, where 22 hectares of agricultural land awaited—or what was left of it.

After clearing rubble and salvaging what remained of flattened greenhouses, Mohammed planted his first courgette crop since the war began over two years ago. But farming in Gaza today means farming under fire. Just 200 meters away, Israeli tanks maintain their positions, and the sound of bullets is part of the daily routine.

"Every time I go to tend to my field, I am risking my life," Mohammed explains, describing a reality that would seem surreal anywhere else in the world.

The Vanishing Farmland

The numbers tell a devastating story. According to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), more than 80 percent of Gaza's cropland has been damaged, with less than 5 percent remaining available for cultivation. Mohammed's situation reflects this broader crisis: of his 22 hectares of pre-war farmland, he can now access only 1 hectare. The remaining 21 hectares lie within Israel's expanded buffer zone.

Israel currently controls about 58 percent of the Gaza Strip under the banner of security buffer zones. The majority of this controlled territory consists of Palestinian agricultural land—a detail that raises uncomfortable questions about the long-term intentions behind these "temporary" security measures.

The danger is immediate and constant. On February 12, Israeli tanks advanced into Salah al-Din Street and opened fire, killing two Palestinians and wounding at least four others. Mohammed was working his field nearby. "We were working when suddenly a tank approached and opened fire towards us. I had to take cover behind a destroyed building and waited there for more than an hour and a half before I could escape."

The Economics of Survival

Seventy-five-year-old Eid al-Taaban faces similar challenges in central Gaza. His land in Deir el-Balah sits just 300 meters from the yellow line marking Israeli-controlled territory. "Every time my sons go to irrigate the crops in the greenhouses, I just pray that they come back alive," he says.

The Israeli blockade has created a perfect storm of agricultural challenges. Seeds, pesticides, fertilizers, irrigation equipment, and tractors are largely prevented from entering Gaza. What little is available often expires before use or comes at exorbitant prices. Eid learned this the hard way when his 90-day tomato crop was ruined by ineffective pesticides and fertilizers, forcing him to replant and absorb the losses.

Meanwhile, Israeli produce floods Gaza's markets at lower prices than locally grown crops. While the quality may be inferior, many Gaza residents—whose economy has been devastated by war—simply cannot afford to choose the higher-priced local alternatives. "I was recently forced to sell large quantities of my produce for less than the cost of production," Mohammed says. "I had to sell and lose or watch my produce rot."

More Than Just Farming

For these farmers, agriculture represents something far deeper than economic activity. "Agriculture is our life and our livelihood," Mohammed insists. "It is an important part of our Palestinian identity. Despite the destruction and danger, we will remain steadfast on our land and will replant all the land we can reach."

Eid's connection to farming spans generations and geography. "My grandfather was a farmer in our hometown of Beersheba before the 1948Nakba," he explains. "He taught my father, my father taught me, and today I'm passing on my agricultural expertise to my grandchildren. The love of the land and agriculture is passed down from generation to generation in our family, and it can never be taken away from us."

This intergenerational transfer of knowledge takes on profound meaning when considered against the backdrop of displacement and loss. For Eid, farming in Gaza connects him to ancestral lands he can never visit, in towns that are now in Israel.

The Broader Implications

The situation in Gaza's agricultural sector reveals the complex intersection of security, economics, and identity in conflict zones. Donald Trump's "Board of Peace" plan for Gaza shows many agricultural areas simply erased from blueprints, suggesting that what Israel calls temporary buffer zones may become permanent fixtures.

This raises questions that extend beyond Gaza's borders. When agricultural land becomes a tool of political control, the implications ripple through food security, economic independence, and cultural preservation. The farmers of Gaza are not just fighting for their livelihoods—they're fighting for the right to exist as they have for generations.