What can sport truly offer in times of humanitarian crisis? [1/2]

By Haneen Alkhatib, sportanddev

For more than seven years, I have worked as a practitioner in the field of sport for development, both on and off the field. Throughout this journey, I have designed, planned and implemented programmes that use sport as a tool for social change. I have seen first-hand how sport, when intentionally and thoughtfully designed, can foster inclusion, strengthen communities, support psychosocial well-being, and create opportunities for learning and development.

Working across the Middle East and North Africa (MENA), particularly in Jordan, has allowed me to engage with refugee communities, local coaches and teachers in rural areas, as well as children and young people who strive to build their lives and pursue their aspirations through their passion and love for sport.

At the same time, being closely aware of the work carried out by organisations operating in countries affected by war and instability, as well as in communities facing broader development challenges, has further shaped my understanding of both the potential and the limitations of sport. These experiences have made me wants to reflect more deeply on what sport can—and cannot—offer when people are facing crisis and uncertainty.

Before exploring the question that continue to challenge me, it is important to briefly outline the context we have been living in for the past three years (at least).

For decades, Palestinians have lived under occupation, while the situation is often described in parts of the international media as the “Israeli–Palestinian conflict.” Regardless of the terminology used, the impact on the daily lives of millions of Palestinians has been profound, including restrictions on movement, repeated cycles of violence, limited access to essential services, and much more.

The city of Gaza, often described by humanitarian organisations as "the world’s largest open-air prison", has experienced repeated wars and escalations over many years. Growing up only a few kilometres away, I was always aware of how difficult daily life could be for those living there. Each escalation over the years was accompanied by statistics—the number of lives lost, homes destroyed, and communities displaced. Yet behind every number was a person, a family, and a story.

The ongoing war, which has been described by some United Nations experts and international bodies as genocide, has resulted in catastrophic human losses. As of September 2026, more than 73,400 Palestinians have been killed and more than 174,000 injured in Gaza since October 2023, according to figures cited by the United Nations. Many others remain missing, including those believed to be buried under the rubble.

Beyond the tragic loss of life, the war has also devastated Gaza’s sporting landscape. According to the Palestinian Football Association, hundreds of athletes have been killed, including many footballers, while sports facilities across Gaza have been destroyed or severely damaged. At the same time, countless children have been deprived of their basic rights to education, safety, play and, simply, the opportunity to be children.

The numbers are staggering, but they only begin to capture the scale of what has been lost. Behind every statistic is a life interrupted, a family changed, and a generation growing up amid destruction and uncertainty.

As I began writing this article, I found myself trying to separate my emotions from my professional reflections. In my role with the International Platform on Sport and Development (sportanddev), I wanted to reflect on the role of sport in contexts of destruction, recovery and rebuilding. We often describe sport as a powerful tool for development, peace and resilience—but what does that really mean when entire communities are being devastated?

From my own experience, and from the passion I have for this work, the answer might seem straightforward at first:

Sport can give children and young people a safe space to breathe, connect and simply be themselves, even when everything around them has been disrupted. It can create moments of normality amidst uncertainty—a chance to play, laugh, reconnect with others, channel energy, build confidence and feel that they belong.

For many, sport becomes much more than a game. It can become a small but meaningful source of hope, resilience and a reminder that life is still possible beyond the crisis.

But is that enough?

Can sport fulfil these roles while violence is ongoing? Or does its greatest contribution begin after the immediate crisis has passed, when communities begin the long process of recovery? Is sport an essential part of a humanitarian response, or does it become a priority only once basic needs have been met?

These questions have no simple answers. To explore them further, I went beyond the existing resources available in the sportanddev Disaster response and Refugees website sections and looked more closely at what is actually happening on the ground. I reached out to practitioners, initiatives and organisations working directly in Gaza to hear their experiences and perspectives.

Connecting with people on the ground was not always easy. Internet connectivity remains a major challenge, and reaching out to those living and working in such circumstances also comes with an emotional weight that is difficult to put into words. Yet these conversations were important. They allowed me to move beyond assumptions and statistics and listen directly to people using sport, in different ways, to support their communities.

On my radar, I came across more than 10 active initiatives delivering sport-related programmes in Gaza. I also had the opportunity to speak with "Gaza Sunbirds" an amputee cyclist team, Gaza Boxing Women, and Palestine Sport for All, among others. Their experiences helped me explore what sport can realistically bring to people living through one of the world's most challenging humanitarian contexts—and, equally importantly, where its limitations lie.

I will share these interviews and the different perspectives I gathered in Part Two of this article, where I will look more closely at what is happening on the ground and what practitioners themselves have to say about the role of sport in crisis.

Stay tuned for Part Two. And if you know of other organisations, initiatives or practitioners working in and through sport in Gaza, I would be very interested to hear from you and include their perspectives where possible. 

Reach out to me at [email protected]

Photo credit: Jehad Alshrafi/ AP