Gaza’s Shadow Economy: How War Sparked a New Wave of Survival Professions

Watan-In one corner of the bustling Khan Younis market, Amjad Nassar, an administrative employee at the Islamic University, sits behind a small stall. He’s not selling anything new—but rather bringing things back to life. In his hands are torn, faded, punctured, and misshapen banknotes. But he doesn’t see them that way. To him, they’re like paintings awaiting their final touches.

Since the war began on October 7, 2023, banks in Gaza have shut down, and normal financial life has come to a halt. No new currency has entered the region, so old banknotes continue to circulate until they’re completely worn out and rejected by merchants. That’s how Amjad’s journey with money began.
He explains, “The money was fine at the start of the war, but due to the closures and lack of alternatives, people kept using the same bills until they completely deteriorated.”

The Administrator Who Brought Currency Back to Life

In the early days of the crisis, some people tried printing counterfeit money and even used parts of it to patch up original notes. But the method didn’t work—those patched-up bills were rejected in the market. So Amjad decided to try something else. He brought out transparent adhesive tape, cut paper to match the color of the currency, and began carefully reconstructing bills—like performing delicate surgery.

Smiling, Amjad displays a 100-shekel note perforated by shrapnel. “I’ll fix this using pieces from other bills that are too damaged to use,” he says. He uses clear tape that doesn’t cover the numbers, carefully matches the colors, and occasionally uses scraps stored in his small workshop.
At first, he didn’t charge for the service. But as demand grew and the cost of tape rose from 1 shekel to 10, he had to dedicate himself full-time. Now, he charges just 2 shekels to repair a 100-shekel note.
The number of customers has soared from about 20 per day to over 100.

Amjad doesn’t see himself as merely a currency repairman—he sees his work as a message. “I hope traders will accept these repaired notes, and that they’ll be usable in the West Bank, where there’s no banking crisis or cash shortage.”
He advises people not to wash coins with soap and water as it increases corrosion, and encourages them to go to professionals like himself. In both the north and south of Gaza, this new trade of money restoration has truly become a real profession.

When Money Needs Saving

No one ever imagined that Gaza would become a place where people restore paper currency. In a world where money is printed in vast quantities and replaced without a second thought, this profession might seem surreal. But in Gaza, it’s now a necessity.

After more than a year and a half under siege and a complete halt in the flow of new currency, the cash shortage has worsened. People have been using the same bills for months, and wear and tear is a harsh reality. Many merchants have begun rejecting damaged bills, creating a genuine need for practical, even artistic, solutions to make them acceptable again.

And so a previously unimaginable profession was born. Today, dozens of people like Amjad Nassar work in this trade—repairing money with dedication, bringing life back to worn-out paper that still holds its value. In their hands, torn bills become symbols of a people’s resilience—proof that even the smallest parts of life are worth fighting for.

Beneath the Ashes of Lighters

Just steps away from Amjad’s stall, in the opposite corner of the Khan Younis market, Bilal Arafat sits at a table cluttered with dozens of cigarette lighters—some broken, others simply out of gas. His job? Lighter repair.

“If you told me before the war that I’d be fixing lighters, I would’ve laughed,” he says. “They used to sell four lighters for one shekel. Who would bother fixing them?” But war changed everything.

A lighter that once got tossed aside now holds the value of a precious item. Its price has jumped from a quarter shekel to ten—forty times more. So has the need to fix or refill them with gas.

Bilal, who used to work in a completely different field, found himself facing two choices: stay unemployed or adapt to the new reality. He began collecting spare lighter parts from the market and learned basic gas refilling techniques from informal experts.
“A customer can get their lighter fixed or refilled for half the price of a new one,” Bilal says, while holding a small refill needle. A short line forms at his stall—some people carry multiple lighters, treating them like treasures that must not be wasted.

Necessity or Invention?

These two jobs aren’t just temporary fixes—they’re reflections of Gaza’s new reality. A reality reshaping daily life and birthing professions born directly from the crisis.

Currency and lighter repair are two sides of the same coin: creativity born from scarcity. When supply lines are cut, banks are closed, systems collapse, and poverty spreads, Gazans don’t stand still. They innovate, adapt, and build a small economy from scraps.

On Gaza’s streets, money is transported in plastic bags, and lighters are stashed in pockets like lifelines. Everything has regained its value. Nothing is discarded lightly anymore. Nothing is considered trivial.

Innovation for Survival

Amid tragedy, the resilience and ingenuity of Palestinians shine. This ability to adapt is nothing new—but in a time of siege and war, it has become even more evident. New trades like money and lighter repair are simply expressions of the deep will to survive.

Abu Mohammed, a merchant in Deir al-Balah, explains: “Yes, sometimes it’s hard for me to accept a patched-up note or a repaired lighter. But I understand the situation. We’re not living under normal conditions, and everyone’s just trying to get by.”

Dr. Samir Abu Modallala, an economics professor at Al-Azhar University in Gaza, says, “In times like these, what emerges is known as an ‘emergency economy,’ where people reuse and repair available tools and currency to survive. These skills aren’t just about getting by—they represent a kind of collective self-reliance that goes beyond mere consumption.”

He adds, “Repairing a lighter or a banknote isn’t a simple act—it’s a small economic process that helps maintain financial and social circulation in a besieged society. That’s why these practices have a developmental value that should be recognized and documented.”

War Creates a Shadow Economy

Dr. Maher Al-Tabbaa, an economic analyst at the Gaza Chamber of Commerce, points out that the economic conditions caused by the blockade and war have forced Gazans to build an alternative economy rooted in survival and innovation.

“We are witnessing a shadow economy that emerged out of necessity,” he says, “where formal institutions are absent, and the capacity to import or export is gone. Individuals are left to create their own means of living.”

He continues, “The extreme price increases in Gaza during the war, coupled with the lack of fresh cash, have pushed people to accept any product or service offered at a lower price. That’s why professions like lighter and currency repair have gained traction—because they meet urgent needs using low-cost tools.”

Al-Tabbaa believes these trades could evolve into a thriving informal sector, providing jobs for those who lost traditional employment and reshaping the local economy in the absence of state structures.
“What stands out in Gaza,” he concludes, “is that adaptation isn’t just an individual behavior—it’s a collective mindset that deepens the longer the crisis lasts.”