In Gaza and Beyond, Child Marriage Persists Long After a Ceasefire

This article was co-published with Egab.

As a ceasefire continues forward between Israel and Hamas, for 16-year-old Rawya in Gaza, the damage has already been done.

In the chaos of war, after fleeing to a crowded shelter in Nuseirat refugee camp from their home in Gaza’s Zaytoun neighborhood, Rawya’s family decided she should marry — quickly, and without her consent. So, on September 26, 2024, when she found herself a bride, her childhood abruptly shattered.

“I initially refused, but my father disregarded my wishes,” said Rawya, who asked to be referred to by a pseudonym. “He feared for my safety, believing it was safer for me to be someone's wife than a single girl surrounded by many interested suitors. I tried to dissuade him, but his authority was absolute.”

War left no space for celebration. During the brief January ceasefire, Rawya’s 20-day engagement ended in a wedding without ceremony — no dowry, no gown, no joy. Now, nearing childbirth, she faces motherhood in a landscape still scarred by conflict.

“I spent countless nights hungry, without privacy or safety,” she lamented. “My dream was to continue my education, but war and early marriage robbed me of my childhood.”

While comprehensive data on child marriage rates in Gaza remains unavailable, experts say the two-year war has fueled a sharp rise in such cases.

“We observed a surge throughout the war, worsening as financial and logistical challenges deepened,” said Itimad Washah, psychological support coordinator at the Women’s Affairs Center, in an interview with More to Her Story. “We documented 50 cases of child marriage, but we are certain the actual numbers are much higher,” she added.

A Documented Pattern

Child marriage has long been documented as a humanitarian crisis that intensifies during conflict and displacement.  In Gaza specifically, before October 2023, child marriage was already a deeply entrenched issue. A UNFPA report found that three out of ten women aged 20–49 in Gaza had been married before turning 18, compared to two out of ten in the West Bank. No updated prevalence data has been released since the current war began, making it impossible to determine whether—or by how much—child marriage rates have increased.

What has been documented, however, is perception. A UNFPA report from November 2024 found that 71 percent of respondents noticed growing pressure for girls under 18 to marry, compared with 56 percent for boys. The report highlights widespread community concern, even if it doesn’t show concrete changes in marriage rates. Still, several experts confirm that child marriage rates have risen since the start of the war, though the exact extent of that increase is unclear.

“For larger families, a father of six or seven finds himself forced to marry his young daughter in order to put her under the responsibility of another family while he struggles to fend for his own,” said Washah.

Displacement and Vulnerability

The UN estimates that over 12 million girls are married before the age of 18 each year worldwide, and that child marriage increases dramatically in humanitarian settings. 

In Syria, UNICEF documented that child marriage rates among Syrian refugees doubled between 2011 and 2014, rising from 13 percent to 26 percent in Jordan and from 18 percent to 25 percent in Lebanon as the conflict intensified.

In Somalia, UNICEF reported in 2020 that 45 percent of girls were married before age 18, with rates significantly higher in conflict-affected and displacement settings. The pattern repeats across conflict zones: in South Sudan, Yemen, and Afghanistan, humanitarian organizations have documented surges in child marriage as communities face prolonged violence and displacement.

Sixteen-year-old Samah’s experience reflects these pressures. When her family fled their Zaytoun home with finances in ruins, she was coerced into marriage without any consideration for how the marriage itself would cause harm.

Samah, who asked to be referred to by a pseudonym, told More to Her Story she regularly endured abuse from her husband and in-laws. Any complaint of the abuse, she said, was met with denial due to the social stigma of divorce and the lack of social, legal, and communal support channels available to the family.

Six months into her marriage, Samah’s husband beat her so intensely that it led to her having a miscarriage. “My in-laws decided they no longer wanted me for their son, and I was thrown out of their tent,” she said.

Legal Gaps and Lasting Consequences

Said Abdullah, a lawyer specializing in human rights, explained that under Palestinian law, the minimum age for marriage is 18, but Gaza's courts continue to allow exceptions, enabling marriages of girls as young as 15. 

“Beyond the grave health risks of early pregnancy, these girls face a lifetime of trauma, domestic violence, and lost potential,” said Abdullah.

According to psychologist Salma Al-Sweirki of the Women’s Affairs Center in Gaza, the compounding effects of war, poverty, and entrenched gender norms have eroded Gaza’s social fabric, enabling child marriage to continue as families struggle to survive.

“Parents often believe marrying off their daughters will ease financial burdens, especially when girls lose caregivers and decisions fall to relatives,” Al-Sweirki said. The long-term effects, she stresses, are severe: depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, learned helplessness, and perpetuation of cycles of abuse.

“Girls exposed to early marriage often get trapped in isolation and distress, their ability to face psychological pressures deeply impaired.”

For Rawya, the immediate future holds only uncertainty. For the first month of their marriage, her husband rented them a small flat. But as Israeli shelling resumed, they gave up the flat. Financial strain made it impossible for them to erect their own tent, and a month into their marriage, the newlyweds were forced to live separately: Rawya with her family in a small room in a cramped shelter offering scant privacy or comfort, while her husband lived with his family in their tent.

Even as a ceasefire takes hold following months of international mediation, Samah is unable to rejoice.

“I am stripped of my childhood and dignity,” Samah told More to Her Story. “The war will end, but what about what it has done to us? That is not redeemable.”