Bilal Shbeir

1 week ago | thederrick.com | Bilal Shbeir |Nabih Bulos

DEIR AL BALAH, Gaza — Like “Squid Game.” That’s how residents describe it, invoking the dystopian TV show when recounting the lethal gauntlet that getting aid in famine-haunted Gaza has become. “It’s a death race. The faster, the stronger, the luckier — they’re the ones who might survive, might reach the food,” said 30-year-old Mohammed al-Shaqra. Thank you for reading! Please log in, or sign up for a new account and purchase a subscription to continue reading.

1 week ago | kdhnews.com | Bilal Shbeir |Nabih Bulos

By Bilal Shbeir and Nabih Bulos - Los Angeles Times (TNS) DEIR AL BALAH, Gaza - Like "Squid Game." That's how residents describe it, invoking the dystopian TV show when recounting the lethal gauntlet that getting aid in famine-haunted Gaza has become. "It's a death race. The faster, the stronger, the luckier - they're the ones who might survive, might reach the food," said 30-year-old Mohammed al-Shaqra. Copyright 2025 Tribune Content Agency.

1 week ago | latimes.com | Bilal Shbeir |Nabih Bulos

Like “Squid Game.” That’s how residents describe it, invoking the dystopian TV show when recounting the lethal gauntlet that getting aid in famine-haunted Gaza has become. “It’s a death race. The faster, the stronger, the luckier — they’re the ones who might survive, might reach the food,” said 30-year-old Mohammed al-Shaqra. “It feels like we’re animals, racing for a box of supplies as if our lives depend on it.

1 week ago | dailygazette.com | Bilal Shbeir |Nabih Bulos

DEIR AL BALAH, Gaza — Like “Squid Game.” That’s how residents describe it, invoking the dystopian TV show when recounting the lethal gauntlet that getting aid in famine-haunted Gaza has become. “It’s a death race. The faster, the stronger, the luckier — they’re the ones who might survive, might reach the food,” said 30-year-old Mohammed al-Shaqra. kAm“xE 766=D =:<6 H6’C6 2?:>2=D[ C24:?8 7@C 2 3@I @7 DFAA=:6D 2D :7 @FC =:G6D 56A6?5 @?

1 month ago | businessandamerica.com | Bilal Shbeir |Nabih Bulos

“Pope o’clock.” That’s what Gaza residents sheltering in this besieged Catholic parish called the time — usually 8 p.m. local time, 7 p.m. in Rome — when Pope Francis would video call Father Gabriel Romanelli, the pastor of the Holy Family Church in Gaza City. “When he called, everyone would gather near the screen and say hello, in Italian, in Arabic, in English,” said Romanelli, one of Gaza’s last remaining priests.