Gaza Healthcare System

Shockat Adam Excerpts

Tuesday 24th February 2026 Westminster Hall

[Shockat Adam (Leicester South) (Ind)]

It is an honour to serve under your chairmanship, Sir Jeremy. I thank the hon. Member for Stroud (Dr Opher) not only for securing this debate but for his impassioned speech introducing the topic, which was really appreciated.

Last week, I and over 2 billion other people welcomed Ramadan, a month of fasting, reflection and prayer. In the Muslim community across the globe, Ramadan is generally treated as a guest: it comes, we appreciate and enjoy it, it gives us a lot of blessings, and then it leaves us. That is no different for the people of Gaza. Speaking to the Independent, a young man by the name of Ibrahim described Ramadan in Gaza before the war as having “a softness to it”. He explained how he remembered the “warm glow of lanterns”—my house is in fact lit up as well—hanging in the narrow streets of Gaza, the

“smell of freshly baked bread before maghrib”,

which is the prayer just before we break our fast, and the “sound of children laughing” during tarawih, the evening prayer. In Ramadan, Muslim families come alive in the evening: they gather in large numbers, doors are open and visits are constant. Ibrahim explained how, this year, the “tables are modest”, but his prayers are still heavy. People break their fast with what is available, but they

“still welcome it, not because life is easy, but because it remains.”

Let us have a look at what remains. If anybody has seen the scenes, it is like a dystopian disaster movie, with people breaking their fast against a backdrop of utter, apocalyptic devastation. They are breaking bread among 60 million tonnes of rubble because of the destruction of more than 90% of their homes. They are eating their dates, which is what we traditionally break our fast with, but I can assure hon. Members that the sweetness of those dates cannot mask the bitterness of the death, destruction and decay that surrounds each and every one of those people. Minister, imagine breaking your fast while sitting just metres from collapsed buildings where your friends and family lived. Imagine knowing that beneath the debris, according to reports, there are more than 10,000 unidentified people—loved ones, friends, family and teachers. People pray beside them and they eat beside them.

Although the official death toll in Gaza has reached 72,000—equivalent to one out of every 33 people—a further 171,000, or roughly one in four, have been injured, and we expect the true number to be much higher. I can truly say that the joy of Ramadan has disappeared for most of the Muslim world. Even after the so-called ceasefire that came into effect on 10 October 2025, at least 603 Palestinians have been killed and 1,600 have been wounded, rendering it a ceasefire in name only. If 603 Israelis had been killed in the past four months, would we all be grateful and welcoming a ceasefire?

In the short time I have, I will briefly focus on the children—who have already been mentioned—and on the sanctity of their healthcare and the right of every child to be treated when they are sick. Children are innocent bystanders who have faced the brunt of the IDF carnage. As reported by Save the Children, they are telling aid workers that

“they want to die because there is food and water in heaven and because their parents are there.”

Death has visited many of the children of Gaza: 20,000 Palestinian children have been killed—more than 100 of them since the so-called ceasefire. That is a child every single day. Those that death has spared have been plagued with more than 40,500 injuries. As has been mentioned, children account for a quarter of all the amputations in Gaza over the past two years, making it the place with the highest number of child amputees per capita, according to the International Rescue Committee.

Let us consider this: children have seen their neighbourhoods, schools, colleges, universities and homes destroyed. They have seen their parents pulverised in front of their eyes and their siblings shredded into a million pieces, and now their own bodies are being destroyed. In whose arms are those children going to find solace? How do we envision a peaceful co-existence when these young souls have witnessed such barbaric, brutal horrors?

We must act now, because more than 18,500 people require urgent medical care, while only 2,700 have been evacuated, according to Physicians for Human Rights. Since October 2025, only 235 patients have been evacuated and many have died just waiting. For the first time since May 2024, the Rafah crossing finally opened on 2 February this year, but on average only 12 patients a day have been allowed to leave, despite Israel’s commitment to allowing 50 people needing medical care to leave each day. The current rate of evacuation means it will take four and half years for people needing medical care to leave Gaza. Children are dying waiting for basic medical care.

The hon. Member for Rotherham (Sarah Champion) mentioned that hospitals in Jerusalem—a mere 70 km away—have the facilities to treat those patients with trauma. We must facilitate the opening of the humanitarian corridor to East Jerusalem for urgent medical evacuation. We must ensure that international medical NGOs can operate freely and bring equipment, medication and personnel without obstruction. The weaponisation of bureaucracy by insisting on the registration of aid workers by the IDF is costing lives. As has been mentioned, we must ensure that children are prioritised. In addition to tackling their health needs, we must ensure that they get access to rehab hospitals and clinicians who can provide comprehensive mental health and psychosocial support—particularly the most vulnerable children, such as those who have been orphaned, separated or disabled.

We must advocate for an independent, rather than Israeli-controlled, aid access mechanism for Gaza moving forward. We owe it to the children, we owe it to all the healthcare workers who did not abandon their duty and we owe it to ourselves if we claim to uphold international law. Without health, there is no recovery. Without recovery, there is no peace. And without peace, this cycle will simply begin again. Minister, the time to act is now.