Muhammad Barghouth, 47, sits on a plastic chair at the Excellence Café in Khan Yunis. Next to him, a man takes out a stack of shekels and counts a few bills.
The man checks his phone to confirm receipt of a US$100 (about $144 Canadian, or NIS 360) bank transfer sent by Barguth before handing over NIS 200 (about $80 Canadian) and explaining to the father of four that he will take a cut of about 30 percent. Bargout shakes the man’s hand and they part ways.
Known as money changers, these men have become a way of life in the war-torn enclave where most banks have closed or been damaged, meaning many Palestinians struggle to withdraw money from their accounts.
Instead, they are forced to transfer the money digitally to exchange houses that provide the cash equivalent of the transfer after taking a discount for themselves, usually 25 to 30 percent. What remains extends no further, as wartime inflation has led to a sharp increase in the prices of scarce foodstuffs and basics.
“There is no money”
“I have a one-year-old now. He wants milk and he wants Pampers. I also have three young children. They need to eat,” Bargout told CBC freelance videographer Mohammed Al-Saifi.
“I lose a lot of money to get money.”
Ayed Abu Ramadan, head of the Gaza Chamber of Commerce, says that the banking system in Gaza has completely collapsed.
“We have a problem with banknotes,” he said. “There is no money. No matter how worn and torn small amounts of money are, people refuse to accept them.”
While the exchanger who met Flea declined to be interviewed, another exchanger agreed to speak with CBC News.
Saadi Al-Ashqar runs an exchange office in Deir Al-Balah, where he provides the same service, but from a storefront where customers come. He says he buys money from other businessmen.
“I… pay a businessman who is in the top 30 percent of income to keep my business and my exchange bureau running.”
We joined a Palestinian man on a trip to a market in Gaza to see how much he was able to buy with 200 shekels – about $80 Canadian dollars – to support his family.
He told Al-Saif that big businessmen control cash flow in the Gaza Strip, and the only way for money to enter and exit is through a digital banking application linked to the Bank of Palestine. People use it to transfer money to Palestinians, who must then find tellers to receive cash.
Al-Ashkar says he sees approximately 200 people a day looking to withdraw cash. But he says he regrets the businessmen who take a large share of the exchanges.
He said, “Whoever controls this situation is unfortunately exploiting the situation we and the citizens are living in.”
Abu Ramadan, from the Chamber of Commerce, says that money exchange rates “actually constitute a huge burden on people.”
“It reduces their purchasing power and makes their problems bigger.”
Choosing between food and diapers
With 200 shekels in hand, Barghut now begins his duties. He is looking for food for his family and diapers for his youngest child.
After the war began, Barghout lost his job as an IT engineer in Gaza City, and he and his family were displaced several times before finding their final shelter in an UNRWA school in Khan Yunis. He now relies on friends and family abroad who send money when they can.
The Palestinians in Gaza depend in one way or another on humanitarian aid, which Abu Ramadan says does not even cover “20% of the population’s needs.” He says scarcity has caused the prices of food and hygiene products to skyrocket.
Families often have to choose between buying diapers or food.
“You can’t eat for a day,” Bargout said of the amount he has to spend at the market in Khan Yunis, where vendors stand in stalls made of wooden beams and plastic sheets behind small tables, displaying some fruits and household products.
Every now and then, Bargut stops to ask how much something costs before walking away.
“It’s very expensive to buy anything now,” he said as he made his way to a kiosk selling individual diapers, which were organized into stacks by size.
“You can’t buy a box, the box is very expensive,” he said, and the price of a package of 30 pieces is 100 shekels.
Instead, he asks for the price of ten diapers – 30 shekels. So he makes his first purchase of the day.
A meager meal for his children
Next is coffee, biscuits, four bananas, two boiled eggs, some fresh mint, some feta cheese, two rolls of toilet paper and a tin of rice.
“For my children, everyone will take just one banana. My wife and I will not take anything, (this is) only for my children,” he said.
Talks to broker a ceasefire and hostage release agreement between Israel and Hamas have resumed in Cairo, and sources close to the negotiations say it is possible to sign an agreement in the coming days. Palestinians in southern Gaza say they hope this round of talks will see the war end so that life can resume.
After 30 minutes at the market, Bargout was done for the day. He now has only 17 shekels left in his pocket on his way back to the shelter. The family of six stays in a dark place at the bottom of the stairs with only one window for sunlight.
His children jump at the sight of him and run to see what he has brought, opening plastic bags as he hands each child a banana.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” said the flea. “You can’t keep your stomach full.”
As he watches his children rummage through the food, trying to fill their bellies with bananas, rice and their two-egg serving, he knows he’ll have to visit one of the exchanges again soon to find their next meager meal.
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