Immediately after the Israeli war on Gaza broke out in October 2023, the border crossings connecting Gaza to Egypt and Israel were closed and tightly controlled by the Israeli military. Without access to international shipping and aid, food, clothing, and fuel became scarce. Over time, the blockade extended to the entry of electrical devices, including smartphones and laptops. Now, the situation remains vastly unchanged, with several restrictions still in place.
Israel has consistently claimed that the restrictions on electrical devices are imposed due to concerns about “dual-use” items with potential military purposes, including flashlights and sleeping bags. But Israel has already closed all of Gaza’s border crossings since 2023 and exercises tight control over Gaza’s two active crossings in Kerem Abu Salem and Rafah, thoroughly checking every item coming in. The Rafah crossing, which connects Gaza to Egypt, is the only entry point not directly administered by Israel, though it still requires Israel’s permission to open.
When the Islamic University of Gaza resumed operations in 2024, announcing enrollment was open for online classes, twenty-year-old Hala Al-Khatib was unable to register. Her mobile phone had been broken after an Israeli airstrike hit her neighbors’ house in May, leaving her family’s home partially damaged and her phone trapped under the wreckage.
Al-Khatib didn’t own a laptop or any other electronic device—her phone was the only way she would be able to access classes. By the time the second semester began, she was able to start university, relying on her mother’s phone until she could find an alternative. But the situation proved to be more complicated than she had expected. Due to the closure of the borders, her only option was to purchase a secondhand device from someone on the Internet. Al-Khatib has continued her education with the new phone, but she has noticed that its performance is getting worse over time.
“Sometimes during my exams, the mobile suddenly shuts down,” she says. “When I turn it back on, I have already lost time for the exam.”
The restriction on the entry of electric devices has suffocated life in Gaza, particularly for those who rely entirely on these devices to study and work, especially amid the absence of face-to-face education and stable job opportunities. If a student’s laptop or smartphone breaks, they are left with two difficult options: either purchase a replacement at an exorbitant, hyperinflated price or to struggle without it. For freelance workers, their main source of income can be suddenly cut off, disrupting not only their own lives but their families who depend on them for financial support.
While students like Al-Khatib struggle to continue their studies, freelancers like Maysa Serdana face a different but equally daunting challenge: losing their primary source of income. Serdana has been working as an Amazon Web Services solutions architect on Upwork (a platform that connects contractors with freelancers) since graduating from the IT department at the Islamic University of Gaza in 2021.
Since this past February, her laptop has been unable to run unless it’s connected to a power source. But electricity isn’t widely available in Gaza, and like many others in the enclave, her family relies entirely on solar panels to charge any devices. Reliant on sunlight, the solar panel system only provides power for a restricted amount of time at limited quantities, so she couldn’t use her laptop long enough to get her work done.
Serdana has been searching for a new battery, but to no avail. Now, she is unable to work efficiently. To keep her laptop plugged in, she has to spend hours at a public workspace, where she has to pay for Internet and electricity. At night, when the solar electricity has run out, she cannot work at all—a dilemma she says has deprived her of multiple job opportunities.
“I have been working very hard in freelancing since it is my only source of income to support my family. Now, I have limited capacity to work efficiently. I need a new laptop and a reliable electricity supply to work better. I am losing many opportunities” she said.
After the so-called ceasefire last October, Israel allowed mobile phones to enter Gaza again. But the devices that do make it through the border crossings are priced so high that they’re unaffordable for the vast majority of the population. A laptop that once cost $400 now costs $1,000, sometimes even more. By December, Israel reinstated the ban, returning people to the same cycle of struggle. Nearly five months have passed without any meaningful change.
For Palestinians in Gaza whose devices are broken or not functioning properly, maintaining effective communication with potential employers becomes extremely difficult. When twenty-six-year-old Noor (who wanted to be identified only by her first name to protect her privacy) graduated from medical school in February 2026, she was invited to interview for a position at a nonprofit institution. The institution contacted her through her smartphone to inform her of the date and location of the interview. Shortly after the interview, she dropped her phone while she was out shopping, leaving the screen severely damaged and the phone unusable.She says she was deeply distressed knowing how difficult it would be to find a replacement device under the Israeli blockade. On her way home, she stopped at several electronics stores, hoping to find a new screen for her phone.
At each store, she heard the same response: No new screens or phones had entered Gaza. One salesperson told her that a replacement screen was available, but it was a knockoff and would cost around $300. Noor was torn between buying an expensive, low-quality screen and living without a mobile phone, which would significantly disrupt her daily life and potentially cut her off from the institution where she was interviewing for a job.
Before considering the expensive screen, she tried to find a suitable, relatively affordable mobile phone; however, the devices available in stores were of poor quality. Her brother even asked his friends if anyone was willing to sell their phone—even a secondhand device—as it would still be better than having nothing.
In the end, she bought the expensive screen replacement. As she waits for a response from the institution regarding her job application, she also attends German classes and depends on her phone to study online.
“Everything exists on my mobile, I can’t replace it,” she says.
This is the painful reality in Gaza: the ability to buy a mobile phone has become almost nonexistent.
To afford a modern device, you must have a lot of money. Headphones, power cords, and other electronic accessories are also nearly impossible to find. This is not just about phones or laptops—it is about the suspension of opportunity, education, and livelihoods. For Palestinians in Gaza, these restrictions are more than mere inconvenience. They are barriers to survival and progress.