Gaza forced to use unreliable online payments amid ‘cash famine’

Gaza City, Gaza Strip – In a clothing shop in Gaza City's Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood, Firas Zaqloul stands helplessly as he tries to pay for his purchases.

Key points

• At Bahloul Junction in western Gaza City, 14-year-old Abdul Hadi Abu Shaaban, sells bread outside al-Qadi sweets shoppe, where customers can connect to a free Wi-Fi network.
• Inside Abu Jabara Food Mall, modern technology stands in the way of 45-year-old Najwa Kahil's attempts to purchase food for a reasonable rate.
• Even after the October 2025 ceasefire allowed banks to reopen some branches, services remained limited largely to administrative transactions, without providing badly needed new liquidity.
• For Mohammed Awida, a 22-year-old nut seller, shopping now requires planning that would have been unimaginable before the war.
• Zaqloul's home was destroyed during Israel's genocidal war on Gaza, burying his Palestinian identity card beneath the rubble.

For context, the difficulty is that he can't secure the seller to accept his funds.

Zaqloul's home was destroyed during Israel's genocidal war on Gaza, burying his Palestinian identity card beneath the rubble. Without it, he notes, he has been unable to open a bank account or electronic wallet, leaving him dependent on increasingly scarce and badly-worn banknotes that numerous merchants refuse to take.

"I suffer every day when I want to buy something, " Zaqloul remarked. "The seller refuses worn-out banknotes, so I have to. Find some way to pay him."

"I just hope merchants in Gaza will take the money from us, " he continued. "In the end, it's all money."

Zaqloul's experience has become increasingly common in Gaza, where an acute shortage of usable cash has become known locally as a "cash famine".

While its military campaign has devastated much of the territory's banking infrastructure, since the war began on October 7, 2023, Israel has severely restricted the entry of cash into Gaza. The result is an economy in which individuals may technically have capital but struggle to access it, or find someone willing to accept the notes in their possession.

According to the Palestine Monetary Authority. It oversees banking, Israeli attacks have destroyed more than 50 bank branches throughout Gaza, as well as dozens of cash machines. Sizeable quantities of cash were additionally trapped inside the vaults of damaged or destroyed banks.

Even after the October 2025 ceasefire allowed banks to reopen some branches, services remained limited largely to administrative transactions, without providing badly needed new liquidity. Palestinians in Gaza say they find it tough to open new accounts for anyone using replacement identification documents issued after 2023, depriving thousands of residents unable to access the electronic banking system at a time when digital payments have become increasingly essential. Waiting for a transfer.

In the same clothing store, 23-year-old student Israa Najm waits for a notification to appear on the shopkeeper's phone.

"As you can see, I have been standing here for two hours, waiting for my mother to transfer the money to the shop owner from home, " she remarked. "He won't let me leave with the abaya I want to buy unless he sees the confirmation that the transfer has arrived."

According to Najm, the identity document she obtained during the war is not accepted by banks, meaning that she can't operate her Bank of Palestine account or electronic wallet.

"Every time I want to go to the market, I have to call my mother and ask her to transfer the money, " she remarked. "Sometimes she doesn't have internet, so we both struggle just to create the payment. There is a crisis of trust between the seller and the buyer. I want to accord in cash. For context, the last time I received cash was a year ago, but no one wanted to take it from me since the notes were worn out."

Due to the lack of cash, everyday transactions are now increasingly complicated.

Inside Abu Jabara Food Mall, modern technology stands in the way of 45-year-old Najwa Kahil's attempts to purchase food for a reasonable rate. She explained that using electronic payments created it more challenging to haggle with shopkeepers, and struggles with using the payment apps.

"I don't know how to transfer to the seller, " Kahil remarked, explaining that her phone was old and can't run banking apps. "I take my young son with me so he can call one of his brothers to create a transfer to the supermarket owner. Sometimes I feel I'm begging when I go out to purchase; I feel like I'm 100 years old, not 45. Everything is suffering, from buying food, cooking over a fire, and filling water. I spend all day just suffering."

"Buying something has become an operation that requires complete preparation, " Awida remarked.

"If I'm going to buy food for my mother on Friday, I charge my phone the day before, " Awida continued. "I also have to make sure I have access to every electronic payment method, because each seller may demand a particular method, and as the buyer you have to accept their terms." Internet outages create another complication.

Some merchants prefer transfers created through mobile phone services that generate an SMS confirmation as banking applications require an internet connection that may disappear at any moment.

"Without that message, the seller isn't convinced that you've paid, " Awida remarked. "They start looking at you as though you're trying to steal from them. I hope buying things stops requiring all of this complexity. We are tired."

Notably, the collapse of Gaza's communications infrastructure, combined with the shift towards electronic payments, has even begun to reshape where individuals conduct business.

Shops and other businesses offering free internet connections have become informal commercial hubs, drawing sellers and customers who need a reliable connection simply to complete a transaction.

At Bahloul Junction in western Gaza City, 14-year-old Abdul Hadi Abu Shaaban, sells bread outside al-Qadi sweets shoppe, where customers can connect to a free Wi-Fi network. He is one of a number of street vendors who gather there for the same reason.

"I don't have a mobile phone, but I ask the buyer to transfer to my father's bank account, and then I ask him to show me the transfer notice, " Abu Shaaban remarked. "I don't receive cash, because all of the cash is old and worn out, and even if I had change, I couldn't give it to the buyer."

Taken together, the developments around gaza forced to use unreliable online payments amid 'cash famine' point to a situation that is still moving, and the coming days should bring more clarity.