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!? The People of Gaza—At Risk of Obesity

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الشبكة

!? The People of Gaza—At Risk of Obesity

By Samihah Benomar
Secretary-General of the Pioneers’ Specialized Network & Chairwoman of the Muslim Women’s Platform


The Language of the Screens:

“Enjoy the moment with your Starbucks coffee!”

“Coffee has no flavor without Galaxy chocolate!”

And when it comes to a McDonald’s sandwich, you’re bombarded with endless ads listing burger varieties, sauce options, and quirky names—so many that you could spend a lifetime trying to make sense of them all. Their obsession with branding and presentation far outweighs any genuine focus on quality or distinction.

These same screens give you crash courses and lengthy tutorials on makeup: its layers, types, techniques—daytime, nighttime, summer, winter, solar, lunar—until you reach the dramatic finale: the famous “Ghazala makeup look!”

And during holiday seasons, the tone intensifies: a barrage of ads pushes “Eid outfits,” “Ahmed Al-Zamil’s trending Eid cake,” and of course, makeup—not only for women but for men too! Why not? If the goal is to stuff bank accounts and hoard profits, then all limits vanish—everything becomes permissible.

Meanwhile, in a press conference held in Jerusalem in March 2025, David Menser, spokesperson for the Israeli government, claimed that Hamas had been “stockpiling food for months,” adding mockingly:
“They have enough food to spark an obesity epidemic. The only ones gaining weight are Hamas members... none of them are starving.”

And just like that, the mask slips from the grotesque face of capitalism—the same system that floods us with “outfits,” “makeup,” and “living the moment,” only to turn its back on humanity when profit isn’t involved.

The hypocrisy is jarring. For a fleeting moment, you might think these corporations care about people. But the reality? They only care when it's profitable. They fuss over your “meaningful coffee experience” with Starbucks, made even more “meaningful” by Galaxy chocolate—now a staple at celebrations worldwide.

And yet, this very same human being—supposedly at risk of obesity—is the one suffering under siege. Aid has been cut off for over six weeks, border crossings are closed, bakeries have halted production, flour has run out, and famine threatens hundreds of thousands.

The irony? Some still ask:
“Is boycotting really a religious obligation? Why are you making such a big deal?”

The bigger tragedy? People are more emotionally attached to consumer brands than to a just cause that’s being slaughtered in front of us, day after day.

As if the perfect makeup tutorial matters more than the tears of a child searching for her mother under the rubble—or a mother’s scream after losing her three children in one airstrike.

This is the culture of consumption we were raised on: where companies funding occupation are seen not as enablers of injustice, but as providers of comfort and “refined taste.”

We defend brand names more fiercely than we defend human dignity.
People write apologetically, not truthfully:
“Keep politics out of coffee.”

As if Starbucks and McDonald’s haven’t taken political stances or openly provided financial support.

What kind of shame is this—where changing your habits feels harder than standing up for spilled blood and stolen lives?

And when asked:
“Why don’t you boycott?”

They respond with the same tired phrase as overused as their favorite brands:
“It won’t change anything.”

But they forget: it is the people who shift the balance.
Boycotting is not weakness—it is resistance.
It is more than conscious spending—it is a moral stand in a time of mass complicity.

In the end, this isn’t a battle over coffee or chocolate.
It isn’t about trends or seasonal sales.
We are in a direct confrontation with a system that profits off our distraction and thrives on our apathy.

Every dollar spent on these companies is an arrow aimed at an unarmed child.
Every moment of indifference is, even in silence, a form of participation in the crime.

Boycotting is not a luxury for activists—it is the bare minimum of human dignity.
It is the weakest form of faith in an age of betrayal.

So, choose your place in this unfolding scene:
Will you stand with those restoring the voice of humanity?
Or with those whose craving for coffee drowned out the cries of a bleeding conscience?

 

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