Kozlov grew up in St. Petersburg, Russia, but had long felt a sense of wanderlust. After serving a mandatory year in the military, he decided he wanted to live in Israel, arriving in August 2022 and taking part in Masa, a gap-year program that included an internship in motion design at a Tel Aviv company. His life was carefree,
and an obstacle to resolving the decades-old conflict.and malnutrition have mounted among Gaza’s 2.3 million Palestinians since Israel barred entry of food, fuel, medicine and other supplies nearly three months ago, allowing a trickle of aid in only the past two weeks.
GHF has opened hubs in three locations – two in the far south around the city of Rafah, and the other in central Gaza near the Netzarim corridor, a strip of territory controlled by Israeli forces. The large crowds have to walk miles to reach the locations.More than a dozen Palestinians described chaos at all three Thursday.At one of the Rafah sites near the Morag Corridor, another Israeli-held strip, one man told the AP he and his cousin arrived at 5:30 a.m., and found thousands of people massed outside, waiting to be let in. When it was opened, the crowd flowed into an outdoor area ringed by barbed wire and earth berms, where pallets of food boxes had been left.
Armed contractors stood on the berms watching, and beyond them Israeli troops and tanks were visible, said the 41-year-old man, who spoke on condition he be identified only by his first name, Shehada, for fear of reprisals. The crowd descended on the food boxes, and pushing and shoving got out of control, he said.Shehada said the contractors pulled back and Israeli troops shot at people’s feet. His cousin was wounded in the left foot, he said. “The gunfire was very intense,” he said. “The sand was jumping all around us.”
At the other Rafah site, several people told AP of a similar scene of pallets of food boxes left on the ground for the crowds to take whatever they could with no control by staff. Mohammad Abu-Elinin, said “gangs” carried off cartloads of flour bags and multiple aid boxes.
Samira Z’urob said by the time she arrived at 6.a.m, “the thieves had stolen people’s aid.” When she begged, one person gave her a bag of pasta and a can of beans. “I said, Thank God, and took it to my children,” she said. “I haven’t had flour for more than a week.”Ashaninka Indigenous leader Francisco Piyako poses for a portrait during the annual celebration recognizing the Ashaninka territory in the Apiwtxa village, Acre state, Brazil, Monday, June 24, 2024. (AP Photo/Jorge Saenz)
Ashaninka Indigenous leader Francisco Piyako poses for a portrait during the annual celebration recognizing the Ashaninka territory in the Apiwtxa village, Acre state, Brazil, Monday, June 24, 2024. (AP Photo/Jorge Saenz)EDITOR’S NOTE: This is part of a series of on how tribes and Indigenous communities are coping with and combating climate change.
Indigenous groups have long argued that they are in the best position to conserve and protect forests, having been successful stewards of lands for thousands of years. Indigenous land management is increasingly a central policy discussion at climate talks as global warming worsens and other methods to protect forests, such as carbon credit schemes, have largely not been successful.The area where the Apiwtxa village sits in the Brazilian Amazon was once a sprawling cattle farm run by non-Indigenous settlers who deforested the land. Establishing land boundaries opened the door to reforestation and cultural rebirth. (AP Video/Jorge Saenz)