Renad Atallah: a 10-year-old’s cooking journey to bring hope to Gaza

Ten-year-old Renad Atallah wants only one thing: to help her family and all of Gaza break the nightmare which has enveloped it. Standing in front of a pile of rubble, undaunted, she allows herself to be photographed so that the world can see the brutal reality which children like her face every day.

Through social media, Renad lets the world into the borders of Gaza to see the sounds, struggles, and fears of war. What had at one time been a game evolved into a remarkable quest: today, it is to raise money and support to enable her family’s journey to safety from the terrors that surround them.

Turning passion into hope

It turned Renad to creating and sharing recipes through social media as an outlet, which keeps her mind occupied; that is how she earned more than 800,000 followers on her Instagram page. She takes solace in preparing food, possibly with the hope that somewhere out there, tutorials of hers inspire a connection to their struggles in Gaza.

Outside a tent in Deir al-Balah, bright-eyed and smiling, Renad busies herself with preparing what she described as “Gaza-style white sauce pasta” along with several other dishes. She filled a pot with bottled water, lit a small propane burner, and, with a few fresh ingredients-a single onion and a green pepper-made the most of scant means by using canned mushrooms for the sauce. About all she has is from humanitarian aid.

“It’s hard to find ingredients; they’re expensive,” she explains. “Some ingredients are just impossible to get.”

One of the charities helping Renad obtain ingredients for her recipes is Human Concern International, Canada’s oldest Muslim relief organization.

“With peoples’ donations, we can purchase these supplies,” explains Hassan Wadi, the charity’s global fundraising director. “We were even able to get 11 of our trucks into Gaza.” Wadi recalls, how he reached out to Renad and her family after he watched videos of her on the web.

Power of resilience

Renad laughs, plays, and cooks next to her tent with a pot already worn and loved. Her joy is testimony to resilience and courage.

At the least, we could do now is offer a little hope—and not be silent.