Beauty in Gaza: Noor’s tent salon in the rubble

In Gaza City, Armani Duwaima brought her 16-year-old daughter, Aya, to this beauty salon. Armani, 39, wanted an eyebrow shaping, while Aya hoped for a full makeup application because they were attending a wedding after the Iftar meal. Armani said, "It's my niece's wedding, and we will hold a small family gathering to celebrate the bride before the groom takes her to their tent."

The shop, called "Nour Beauty Salon," is a small blue tent containing only a table with a broken mirror, hair removal tools, moisturizer, and some cosmetics. In the Shuja'iyya neighborhood of eastern Gaza City, a handwritten white sign reading "Nour Beauty Salon" hangs outside the tent, near the curtained entrance. This is Nour Ghamari's beauty salon, a dream project for the young woman, who dropped out of nursing college to pursue her passion for hairstyling and makeup.

She opened the salon on the destroyed sidewalk about three weeks ago, the only option for her and her family after returning north from displacement in the south. After greeting Armani and Aya, she began to soften a small piece of syrup, gently kneading it in her hands before starting her work. Nour said, "Since I opened, many women have come to me, telling their heartbreaking stories... about losing family and loved ones. They arrive exhausted, with no light in their faces."

Both Armani and Nour believe that opening a beauty salon during wartime may seem strange, but the act of self-care can help women. Sitting in the chair, Armani said, "Taking care of myself changes my mood." Nour added, "Women come to me from tents, crowded schools, or the ruins of destroyed homes. I try to offer them a moment of comfort, a small escape. My main goal is for them to leave feeling lighter and happier."

Nour believes that the war has been particularly brutal for women in Gaza, depriving them of their homes, security, and ability to care for themselves as they focus their energy on survival. She said, "I see many women whose skin is completely burned by the sun because they live in tents, constantly using firewood to cook, washing clothes by hand, and carrying heavy containers of water. On top of all that, they have no privacy in the crowded displacement camps, not to mention the fear, bombing, and all the horrors of war."

Despite this, she said, she has customers of all ages who feel that self-care is essential to them. Nour recalled, "I have met many women who cannot stand having a stray hair on their face or eyebrows. Some come to me every week, some regularly, and some occasionally." She recalled one customer, a woman in her early 30s, who had experienced tremendous trauma after losing her parents and all her siblings in an Israeli airstrike. To cope with the pain of losing her loved ones, the woman lost the desire to do anything. Nour said, "I felt so much sympathy for her. I gave her a complete treatment—eyebrow shaping, a haircut, and even a free facial massage and mask. When she looked in the mirror, her eyes were filled with tears of joy."

When the Israeli war on Gaza began, Nour was dreaming of opening her own physical beauty salon and making plans. Like everyone in Gaza, her life and plans were upended as she, her parents, and her eight siblings were forced to flee south following Israeli evacuation orders. She said that for the first two months, her only thought was survival and helping her family. Nour said with a smile, "But after the first few months, when we settled in the displacement camp in the south, I heard women saying things like, 'If only there was a hair salon or beauty salon nearby so we could take care of ourselves a little.' I would answer: 'I am a beautician!'"

Nour paused to check on Aya's wedding makeup. She said, "Women would grab me as if they had just discovered a treasure, and then I would immediately start working." Some women came to her, while she went to other women's tents—depending on their needs. Now, her work has become an important source of income for her and her family during the war, even though she can only charge a small fee to five to eight customers a day. She explained, "I live here, and I understand the reality." That's why she keeps her prices low.

When Nour finished Armani's eyebrow shaping, she seemed a little restless. She asked Nour if she could dye her hair, but Nour couldn't. She explained, "There is no water in this area. Dyeing requires running water, and my tent is on the sidewalk, surrounded by ruins—no water, no electricity, nothing. I can only use the simplest equipment and offer only basic services." Armani sighed and ran her fingers through the graying hair under her headscarf. "I used to have only a few white hairs. But now, they are everywhere. This war has aged us." She said with a sad smile.

Nour turned her attention to Aya, discussing her dress color to choose a matching makeup look. Armani smiled as she watched her daughter, who was closing her eyes as her eyeshadow was being applied, and said, "I brought my daughter here today so she could take care of herself a little—to lift her spirits. I want her to grow up knowing that no matter what happens, she should always take care of herself. I also wanted to bring her some joy. Everything we have seen in this war has been heartbreaking." As Nour put the finishing touches on Aya's makeup, she spoke wistfully about her dreams. She said, "My greatest wish is for this war to end so I can expand my business, move to a proper beauty salon, and offer more services. But my message to all women is: no matter what happens, take care of yourselves. Life is short."