Shafaqna English- Nearly 60% of all refugees and forcibly displaced people globally are from Muslim-majority countries – millions will be celebrating the holy Month of Ramadhan while facing poverty, hardship, and uncertainty.
Every year, millions of refugees observe Ramadhan surrounded by conflict and hardship. Many refugee and displaced families will observe the holy month separated from those they love and their communities, far from their homes.
While Ramadhan is a time for celebration, for refugees, it is bittersweet as it is a reminder of a life that was lost. For those uprooted from their homes, celebrating during the holy month can be a tragic reminder of everything they have lost.
How are refugees observing the Month of Ramadhan?
Millions of refugees observe Ramadhan in extreme hardship. Far from their homes and loved ones, many struggle to put food on their table and go without warm meals for Iftar.
For families in displacement sites, this month of fasting is marked not only by spiritual devotion but by the daily challenge of securing enough food to break their fast. With limited income and soaring food prices, the simple act of preparing Iftar – the evening meal that ends the day’s fast – has become a daunting task.
With support from UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency, more refugees are receiving the shelter, food, water, and cash assistance they need to survive. Despite these challenges, refugees choose to practice their faith, sharing the blessings of Ramadhan through good deeds.
Rohingya Refugees begin observing Ramadhan amid struggles and uncertainty
As the holy Month of Ramadhan begins, Rohingya refugees in the overcrowded camps of Cox’s Bazar prepare to observe fasting despite facing immense hardships.
For the more than one million Rohingya who fled persecution in Myanmar, Ramadhan remains a time of deep faith and devotion but also a reminder of their ongoing struggles in exile.
Since their forced displacement in 2017, life in the refugee camps has been a constant battle for survival. Overcrowded shelters, limited access to clean water, and inadequate healthcare make daily life challenging.
Many Rohingya long for the days when they could observe Ramadhan in their homeland
The arrival of Ramadhan brings additional difficulties, as many Rohingya long for the days when they could observe the holy month in their homeland, surrounded by their communities and traditions. Now, they must adapt to life in makeshift shelters, far from the homes they once knew.
Despite these hardships, the spirit of Ramadhan remains strong. Rohingya community members gather in Mosques for prayers, and families do their best to prepare simple meals for Suhoor and Iftar.
However, the struggles of camp life—lack of employment opportunities, safety concerns, and movement restrictions—cast a shadow over the holy month.
“We used to celebrate Ramadhan in our villages with family and friends, sharing food and prayers,” says Noor Alam, a Rohingya elder in the camp.
“But here, everything is uncertain. We have no country, no rights, and no future. Still, we hold onto our faith because that is all we have left.”
Ramadhan in Gaza sees Palestinians caught between resilience and starvation
Ramadan began, and in Gaza, though, there is no festive spirit. With Israel’s continued blockade and its decision to block humanitarian aid, Palestinians are again facing one of the worst humanitarian crises in modern history.
As Muslims around the world go through Ramadhan, knowing that food and water are available to break their daily fast, Palestinians in Gaza are struggling to find the bare necessities to survive. While families have made attempts to mark the holy month with tables of food set out among the ruins in Rafah and Beit Lahia.
For example, as symbols of resilience and hope, their efforts are overshadowed by the worsening humanitarian crisis. Israel’s decision to further restrict aid has already caused a surge in prices, leaving many unable to afford food as they brace for a potential escalation.
Before the war, the Muslim holy month of Ramadan was a festive time of increased worship, social gatherings, and cheer for Fatima Al-Absi. Together with her husband, the resident of Jabaliya in Gaza said she used to do Ramadhan shopping, visit relatives, and head to the mosque for prayers.
But the Israeli war has shredded many of the familiar and cherished threads of Ramadhan as Al-Absi once knew it: her husband and a son-in-law have been killed, her home was damaged and burnt, and the mosque she attended during Ramadhan was destroyed, she said.
“Everything has changed,” she said on Saturday as her family observed the first day of Ramadhan. “There’s no husband, no home, no proper food, and no proper life.”
Tulkarm refugees face toughest Ramadhan in years amid major Israeli raid
Behind a locked door, Faisal Salameh, head of the Popular Services Committee of Tulkarm refugee camp in the occupied West Bank, somehow manages to make light of what it will be like to celebrate Ramadhan in 2025 as the Israeli military continues the most intense raid in the history of his neighbourhood.
Displaced Syrian: Ramadhan Away from Home with the heavy burden of poverty and hunger
Around the world, Ramadhan is a time to come together as a family. It represents the warmth of home, sharing a good meal. But for millions of Syrians still displaced 14 years after the conflict began, this Ramadhan comes with the heavy burden of poverty and hunger.
Over 7 million people remain internally displaced, most of them women and children. For years, humanitarian aid has been their only lifeline. Yet, dwindling resources make access to even basic needs a daily struggle, let alone the joyful Iftars they remember.
Nadhim remembers the days when her kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, steam rising from pots of soup and beans.
Nadhim still remembers a time before the war when Ramadhan was her favorite season of the year. It was a time of tradition, passing down recipes to her daughters and sitting at a table that never felt empty.
“Ramadhan was once a time of warmth and gathering. Now, it only reminds me of my destroyed home. My family is scattered everywhere, and I live here alone with my son.”
Syrian refugees recall community spirit that existed during Ramadhan in their country
Zaatari is in northern Jordan, right across the border from Syria. It was just in a barren desert. And then in July 2012 when the Syrian War started, a few families had come across the border seeking, you know, safety from the war. And then over the next year, there were over 140,000 people inside Zaatari. After that, the number went down to about 83,000 because the camp could only hold so many people.
Ayman, a Syrian refugee living in Jordan, recalls the community spirit that existed during Ramadhan in Syria. In Amman, it is just him and his wife, Ghalia. “Now, my wife and I sit and contemplate. We are upset. We sometimes just stare at each other asking why this happened.”
Lebanon is facing its worst economic crisis in decades, and 90% of Syrian refugees living in the country are trapped in extreme poverty, unable to pay for rent, food, and other everyday expenses.
“Ramadan is a month of giving and good deeds,” says Ibrahim, a Syrian refugee living in Lebanon with his children. “Refugees who live in such difficult situations are eligible for Zakat, for help. They deserve support.”
Ramadhan for Yemenis: The shift from familiar routines to the harsh reality of displacement
Yemen’s decade-long conflict has left more than half of the population food insecure, with an estimated 17.1 million people struggling to access basic nutrition, according to the 2025 Humanitarian Needs and Response Plan.
For Salha, a mother of five who fled airstrikes near her home in Mar’ib’s Medghal district, Ramadhan was once a time of peace, reflection, and unity. Before the conflict turned their lives upside down, her family lived off their small business, managing their daily needs and cherishing the special traditions of this holy month.
The shift from familiar routines to the harsh reality of displacement has stripped many families of the joy that once defined this sacred time. Salha remembers the first Ramadhan in the camp as one of the most difficult periods in her life. With no running water, she spent every morning collecting what her family needed, juggling the daily fight to survive with the desire to honour Ramadan. The sense of peace that once accompanied this month was replaced by constant worry and hardship.
Sources: unrefugees.org, KCRW, Rohingya Khobor, Associated Press, The National News, Relief Web, Middle East Monitor, Story Teller