Toys

Gaza City – In front of a toy stall in Gaza City’s central al-Rimal market, Rania al-Saudi stands with her two young daughters, looking bewildered at the unusually high prices of toys.

Al-Saudi had promised her daughters she would buy them two dolls to celebrate Eid, but the exorbitant toy prices mean she simply can’t afford them.

Her elder daughter, six-year-old Razan, didn’t understand her mother’s worried expressions as Rania asked the vendor for the price of each toy. With every price, Rania gasped and said, “Oh my God, it’s so expensive… this used to be much cheaper.”

Faced with her daughter’s insistence, Rania pleaded with the vendor to lower the prices, but he apologised, saying he could not because getting hold of toys to sell was incredibly difficult, considering Israeli restrictions on importing items into Gaza.

Rania was not alone. Other parents and children repeatedly came to the vendor’s stall to ask about toys, but not one of them made a purchase. In Gaza’s current war-driven economic crisis, the prices are simply unaffordable.

Rania, 43, is originally from Shujayea in eastern Gaza, but has been displaced by the war to the west of the city. She told Al Jazeera that she came looking for toys in an attempt to put smiles on her daughters’ faces before the holiday, but her wish was not fulfilled.

“The prices are extremely high, and the vendors tell us that toys have not entered Gaza since the start of the war. But what did our children do to deserve this?”

Rania recalled the many toys her daughters had in their home before it was destroyed, and how she used to make sure they had toys for every occasion and every holiday.

“Eid holidays are for children’s joy, and children are happy with toys and entertainment. But our children are deprived of everything.”

While speaking to Al Jazeera, Rania tried to calm her daughter Lulwa, who had begun to cry after realising from her mother’s words that she would not get the doll she wanted.

“This doll used to cost no more than 15 shekels ($5) before the war; now it costs 60 shekels ($20),” she said to Al Jazeera, frustrated. “This is something I cannot afford. Everything is expensive and overpriced.”

Rania’s voice grew heavier as she explained that she was unable to even buy new Eid clothes for her daughters – a tradition across the Muslim world – due to the high prices.

“My daughters will not be happy this Eid. I wanted to compensate by getting them dolls, but even that is impossible.”

Toys have been in short supply during the war, which began in October 2023, with bombing and displacement meaning that most children either had their toys destroyed, lost, or left behind. Rania says that her children have been bored, and have had to develop their own ways of playing.

“All the children in the camp face the same situation, so they spend their time playing simple street games like hopscotch, hide-and-seek, or drawing in the sand,” she said.

“But my daughters always wished for a doll. I once tried to make one for them, but they didn’t like it.”

Rising prices and market impact

Toy sellers say they are not to blame for the high prices.

Anwar al-Huwaity has been in the business for 20 years. He told Al Jazeera that his stall is still operating despite Israel’s devastation of Gaza, but that business has become extremely difficult.

“Before the war, toys were widely available,” Anwar said. “Today, we go from one trader to another, searching. Sometimes we find toys with someone who had them stored, but they sell it at a very high price, up to three times its normal price.”

He added that most toys that now reach Gaza do not enter through official crossings, but in limited quantities via unofficial routes, making them very difficult to obtain.

The cost of bringing toys into Gaza has become extremely high. Anwar said some middlemen demand up to 12,000 shekels ($3,870) for a small shipment, and if it is confiscated or destroyed, the loss falls entirely on the trader.

“We buy merchandise at high prices, so we have to sell it at high prices as well,” Anwar said apologetically.

Anwar said that toys were now up to 300 percent more expensive compared to pre-war prices. The holiday season, the main income generator for toy sellers, used to bring in between $6,500 and $10,000, he explained. Now, he’d be lucky to sell $1,000 of stock – and most of that is bulk sales to other traders, rather than regular customers.

Anwar may be a businessman, but he shared that the hardest part of his job was seeing children ask for toys that their parents cannot afford.

“Many parents can’t buy toys due to the economic situation. People are barely able to secure food,” he said.

Anwar’s job has gone from providing children joy, to seeing them disappointed.

“I have started hating my workday because I know the prices are exorbitant, and when the children and families see the toys, they get upset, especially during the holidays.”

“People come to buy toys and beg me to lower the price,” he said. “They say, ‘This child is an orphan, that child is an orphan … his parents were killed in the war’. It feels like all children in Gaza have become orphans.”

Restrictions on recreational goods during the Gaza war

Since the outbreak of the war on Gaza in October 2023, trade has been heavily restricted due to the closure of commercial crossings by Israel, especially Karem Abu Salem (Kerem Shalom), the main entry point for goods into Gaza from Israel.

Israel imposed a total blockade on Gaza in 2023, and again for several months in 2025, leading to the declaration of a famine in northern Gaza.

Conditions have improved since a “ceasefire” was declared in October, but Israel is continuing regular strikes – and continuing to heavily restrict the entry of non-essential commercial goods, including toys and recreational materials.

Although no official law or declaration explicitly bans toys from entering Gaza, administrative and security restrictions, combined with the prioritisation of humanitarian goods, have effectively made entry of these items almost impossible.

The United Nations has noted that restrictions on commercial goods, including toys, have affected the availability of both essential and non-essential goods in Gaza.

Near Anwar’s toy stall is another run by Ahmed Ziara. The 24-year-old has been selling toys for several years, but the war has forced him to periodically stop trading.

“Before the war, I worked in major toy exhibitions,” Ahmed explained. “Now toys rarely enter, and we often have to smuggle them, sometimes hidden inside clothes or other goods.”

Ahmed confirmed that most of the toys he acquires are old stock already in Gaza, sold at high prices due to scarcity.

He mentioned that popular Eid holiday toys, which were once inexpensive, now cost triple or even quadruple their previous prices: a small toy car that sold for 40 shekels ($13) last year now costs 150 shekels ($48), a small ball that once cost 3 shekels ($1) is now 30 shekels ($10), building blocks are nearly unavailable, and dolls cost more than 70 shekels ($22.50).

“Buying from traders is hard, and selling is hard due to the economic situation,” Ahmed told Al Jazeera.

“Sometimes I have to sell below the expected price just to clear stock, but most of the time we must raise prices due to high costs and difficulty obtaining toys.”

“If conditions improve and toys are allowed in normally, prices will return to normal, and children and families will be able to enjoy the holiday as before,” he said.

“This work is not easy,” he added, contemplating. “Sometimes I sit alone and tell myself what I am doing is unfair because prices are extremely high. But despite everything, we love to bring joy to children, even for a short time.”

Mexican writer-director Michel Franco (“Memory”) explores dynamics of money, class and the border through the spiky, unsettling erotic drama “Dreams,” starring Jessica Chastain and Isaac Hernández, a Mexican ballet dancer and actor.

In the languidly paced movie, Franco presents two individuals in love (or lust?) who experiment with wielding the power at their fingertips against each other. The film examines the push-pull of attraction and rejection on a scope that’s both intimate and global, finding the uneasy space where the two meet.

Chastain stars as Jennifer McCarthy, a wealthy San Francisco philanthropist and socialite who runs a foundation that supports a ballet school in Mexico City. But Franco does not center on her experience, but that of Fernando (Hernández), whom we meet first escaping from the back of a box truck filled with migrants crossing the U.S.–Mexico border. He’s abandoned in San Antonio on a 100-degree day.

His journey is one of extreme survival, but his destination is the lap of luxury: a modernist San Francisco mansion where he makes himself at home and where he’s clearly been before. A talented ballet dancer who has already once been deported, he’s risked everything to be with his lover, Jennifer, though, as a high-profile figure, she’d rather keep her affair with Fernando under wraps. He’s her dirty little secret but he’s also a human being who refuses to be kept in the shadows.

As Jennifer and Fernando attempt to navigate what it looks like for them to be together, it seems that larger forces will shatter their connection. In reality, the only real danger is each other.

The storytelling logic of “Dreams” is predicated on watching these characters move through space, the way we watch dancers do. Franco offers some fascinating parallels to juxtapose the wildly varying experiences of Fernando and Jennifer — he almost dies of thirst and heat stroke; she arrives in Mexico on a private plane, but both enter empty homes alone, melancholy. During a rift in their relationship, Fernando retreats to a motel, drinking red wine out of plastic cups with a friend in his humble room, ignoring Jennifer’s calls, while she eats alone in her darkened dining room, sipping out of crystal.

These comparisons aren’t exactly nuanced but they are stark and, for most of the film, Franco just asks us to watch them move together and apart, in a strange, avoidant pas de deux. Often dwarfed by architecture, their distinctive bodies in space are more important than the sparse dialogue that only serves to fill in crucial gaps in storytelling.

Cinematographer Yves Cape captures it all in crisp, saturated images. The lack of musical score (beyond diegetic music in the ballet scenes) contributes to the dry, flat affect and tone, as these characters enact increasing cruelties — both emotional and physical — upon each other as a means of trying to contain each other, until it escalates into something truly dark and disturbing.

Franco loses the plot of “Dreams” in the third act. What is a rather staid drama about the weight of social expectations on a relationship becomes a dramatically unexpected game of vengeance as Jennifer and Fernando grasp at any power they have over the other. She fetishizes him and he returns the favor, violently.

Ultimately, Franco jettisons his characters for the sake of unearned plot twists that leave the viewer feeling only icky. These events aren’t illuminating and feel instead like a bleak betrayal. The circumstances of the story might be timely, but “Dreams” doesn’t help us understand the situation better, leaving us in the dark about what we’re supposed to take away from this story of sex, violence, money and liberty. Anything it suggests we already know.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.