Mohammed Barghout, 47, takes a seat on a plastic chair at the Excellence Cafe in Khan Younis. Next to him, a man takes out a stack of shekels and counts out several bills.
The man checked his phone to confirm receipt of a bank transfer of approximately US$100 (approximately C$144, or 360 shekels) sent by Barghout, then transferred over 200 shekels (approximately C$80) and explained to the father of four that he was taking a reduction of approximately 30 percent Barghout shakes the man's hand and they part.
Such people are known as money changers and are becoming a way of life in the war-torn enclave where most banks are closed or damaged, meaning many Palestinians have difficulty withdrawing cash from their accounts.
Instead, they are forced to digitally transfer money to currency exchange offices, which provide the cash equivalent of the transfer after taking a cut for themselves, usually ranging from 25 to 30 percent. What's left doesn't go very far, as wartime inflation has skyrocketed the price of scarce food and necessities.
“No Cash”
“I have a child, it's been a year. He wants milk, he wants Pampers. I also have three small children. They have to eat,” Barghout told CBC freelance cameraman Mohamed El Saif.
“I lose a lot of money just to have money.”
Ayed Abu Ramadan, chairman of the Gaza Chamber of Commerce, says the banking system in Gaza has completely collapsed.
“We have a problem with banknotes,” he said. “There is no cash. And any small amounts of cash are worn and torn, people don't want to take them.”
Although the exchanger who met with Barghout declined to be interviewed, another exchanger agreed to speak to CBC News.
Saadi Al-Ashqar runs a currency exchange office in Deir al Balah, where he provides the same service, but in a store where customers come to him. He says he buys cash from other businessmen.
“I… pay a businessman in the top 30 percent to keep my company and my commissary running.”
We joined a Palestinian man going to a market in Gaza to see how much he could buy with 200 shekels – about $80 Canadian – to support his family.
He told El Saifa that top businessmen control the flow of cash in the Gaza Strip and the only way money flows in and out is through a digital banking application linked to the Bank of Palestine. People use it to send money to Palestinians, who then have to look for currency exchange offices to receive the cash.
Al-Ashqar says it sees nearly 200 people every day wanting to withdraw cash. But he says he feels sorry for businessmen who take so much of the exchange.
“Those who control this situation are unfortunately taking advantage of the situation in which we and citizens live,” he said.
Abu Ramadan of the Chamber of Commerce says the rates charged by currency exchange offices “are really a huge burden on people.”
“This reduces their purchasing power and increases their problems.”
Choosing between food and diapers
With 200 shekels in hand, Barghout now begins to settle his affairs. She is looking for food for the family and diapers for the youngest child.
When the war broke out, Barghout lost his job as a computer engineer in Gaza City, and he and his family were displaced several times before finding refuge at a UNRWA school in Khan Younis. Now it's about friends and family abroad sending money whenever they can.
Palestinians in Gaza are more or less dependent on humanitarian aid, which, according to Abu Ramadan, does not even cover “20 percent of the population's needs.” He also says the shortages have caused prices of food and hygiene products to skyrocket.
Families often have to choose between buying diapers and food.
“You can't eat for a day,” Barghout said of the amount of money he has to spend at the Khan Younis market, where vendors in stalls made of wooden beams and plastic tarpaulins stand behind small tables displaying fruit and household items.
Every now and then, Barghout stops to ask the price of something before walking away.
“It's very expensive to buy anything these days,” he said, heading to a stand of individual diapers, neatly stacked by size.
“You can't buy a pack, a pack is very expensive,” he said – a pack of 30 will cost 100 shekels.
Instead, he demands the price of ten diapers – 30 shekels. So he makes his first purchase of the day.
A modest meal for his children
Then coffee, cookies, four bananas, two hard-boiled eggs, some fresh mint, some feta cheese, two rolls of toilet paper and aluminum foil with rice.
“For my children, everyone will only take one banana. “Me and my wife won't take anything, (it) is only for my children,” he said.
Talks aimed at brokering a ceasefire and the release of hostages between Israel and Hamas have resumed in Cairo, with sources close to the negotiations saying an agreement could be signed in the coming days. Palestinians in the southern Gaza Strip express hope that this round of talks will end the war and allow life to resume.
After 30 minutes in the market, Barghout has had enough for the day. Now, when he returns to the shelter, he has only 17 shekels left in his pocket. The family of six lives in a dark space under the stairs, with only one window through which sunlight enters.
The children jump when they see him and run to see what he has brought, opening plastic bags and handing each child a banana.
“It doesn't mean anything,” Barghout said. “You can't fill your stomach.”
As he watches his children rummage through the food, trying to fill their bellies with bananas, rice and a portion of two eggs, he knows that soon he will have to visit the exchanger again to find another meager meal.