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The Joy of Watching the World Cup in Gaza

For 90 minutes, the World Cup gives us something the genocide has tried to take away: a sense of community, a sense of normality, and a moment of pure celebration.

Palestinians wave Egyptian flags as they gather to watch Egypt’s World Cup match in Gaza City, on July 4, 2026.

Gaza—When I first heard the 2026 World Cup was about to begin, I barely paid attention.

This was partially because of the timing—most matches this year are airing late at night in Gaza because of the time difference with the United States—but mostly because I couldn’t imagine how anyone here would watch the games.

How could people leave their homes after dark? Since the genocide began, many streets have become deserted at night, while armed looters take advantage of the absence of police and security. And even if people wanted to watch, where would they find electricity to power a television or projector? With daily power cuts, fuel shortages, and so many other obstacles, this World Cup seemed impossible to follow.

But in Gaza, “impossible” is a word people refuse to accept.

One of the first evenings after the World Cup began, I was leaving a workshop around 10 pm. Normally, that is when the streets begin to empty and shopkeepers start closing their businesses. Instead, I saw a crowd of people hurrying in one direction. Children were running excitedly, waving flags. I could hear shouting and cheering from a distance, the same sounds that used to spill out of cafés during major football matches before the genocide.

I followed the crowd, since it was on my way home.

As I got closer, I realized I was witnessing something I never expected to see these days. A local business, in collaboration with an Egyptian humanitarian organization, had set up a projector that cast the Egypt-Belgium match onto a giant billboard in the middle of the Al-Nuseirat refugee camp. Hundreds of people had packed the street so tightly that there was barely room to move. Egyptian flags were raised everywhere.

I couldn’t help laughing at myself. I had lived in Gaza my entire life, yet somehow I had underestimated my own people. Of course they would find a way to watch the biggest football tournament in the world!

There was no time to think. I squeezed into the crowd, standing shoulder to shoulder with an elderly man who remained on his feet for the entire match. Nearby, young boys jumped excitedly every time Egypt attacked. One little boy could barely see over the adults standing in front of him, yet he never stopped trying, bouncing up and down throughout the 90 minutes in the hope of catching another glimpse of the screen.

From the opening whistle, the atmosphere was electric. Every pass was met with applause, every missed chance........

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