In the bombed-out neighbourhoods of Gaza, two sisters have found a way to rebuild from the debris of war. Amal and Fatima, aged 24 and 21, have started a small business crushing concrete rubble from destroyed homes and mixing it with cement to form new bricks. Their operation, run from a dusty lot in Gaza City, now employs a dozen women and produces up to 500 bricks a day.
Documents obtained by this newsroom confirm that a British aid agency, the Gaza Reconstruction Trust, has provided £50,000 in funding for the project. The money has bought a concrete crusher, safety equipment, and raw materials. The trust’s director, Sarah Jenkins, said in a statement: “This is exactly the kind of grassroots initiative that rebuilds communities. These women are turning destruction into hope.”
But the story is not as simple as it seems. Sources close to the project reveal that the sisters have struggled to secure permits from Hamas authorities to transport rubble from bomb sites. “They want a cut,” said a local contractor who asked not to be named. “Every brick made here has a tax paid to someone with a gun.”
The sisters themselves are wary of speaking openly. In a brief interview, Amal said: “We just want to work. The rubble is everywhere. It is free. We do not ask anyone’s permission to clean our streets.” Yet the reality of operating in Gaza means navigating a complex web of political factions, each with its own demands.
Meanwhile, the British government has distanced itself from the project. A Foreign Office spokesperson said: “We are aware of this initiative but have no direct involvement. Our aid to Gaza is channelled through UN agencies and focuses on essential services.” The Gaza Reconstruction Trust is a registered charity in the UK, but its funding sources remain murky. Tax filings show donations from several anonymous private donors, each contributing sums just below the threshold for mandatory disclosure.
This is not the first time that British aid has been linked to reconstruction efforts in Gaza. A 2018 report by the Department for International Development found that nearly 40% of UK-funded projects in the strip were delayed or blocked by local authorities. The report concluded that “political interference remains the single greatest obstacle to reconstruction.”
The sisters’ brick business is a small but potent symbol of resistance. Every brick they produce replaces one that fell from an Israeli missile or a Hamas rocket. But the question remains: who really controls the rubble? And how much of the British taxpayer’s money will end up in the hands of those who profit from war?
As the sun sets over Gaza City, Amal and Fatima load their bricks onto a donkey cart. They have an order for a new school being built by a local charity. “We do not think about politics,” Fatima said. “We think about the children who will sit in these walls.” For now, that may be enough. But in a place where every brick has a story, the truth is never far behind.
