In the cold corridors of history, war has often been portrayed as a clash of armies, an exchange of artillery, and a contest of strategies. Yet, behind the sound of gunfire lies a far more insidious weapon, one that leaves no smoke trails or craters but carves deep scars into the fabric of humanity: hunger. The weaponisation of hunger is a grim reality, a tactic as old as conflict itself, wielded to decimate morale, break resistance, and, often, annihilate entire communities.

 

From ancient sieges to modern blockades, controlling food supplies has been a powerful tool of subjugation. In medieval times, besieging forces cut off access to food and water, forcing starvation upon fortified cities. Fast forward to the 20th century, and we find the Nazi Hunger Plan, which aimed to starve millions in Eastern Europe to secure food resources for Germany. Today, this sinister tactic persists in conflict zones, where hunger is not just a consequence of war but a deliberate weapon.

 

There would be weaponisation of hunger such that the suffering of these unheard, whose lives anyway were precarious in times of peace and rendered invisible in times of war, now find voices louder. Children, who might else otherwise learn in classrooms, now encounter the gnawing feeling of hunger. Mothers go deciding which child to feed with what scraps to save and those elderly people, often to be forgotten, quietly went under, their stories unbroadcast. These voices, silenced by starvation and overlooked by the global community, are a haunting testament to humanity's failure to protect its most vulnerable.

 

For instance, in Yemen, hunger has been so well employed to the devastating effects of a pinpointed fashion. Decades of blockade and agriculture-infrastructure destruction pushed millions of people into famine-like situations. Food aid that keeps alive many, on a control basis, is distributed sparingly, curtailed, or entirely denied in selected zones as part of the control mechanism. The deprivation calculated by the weapon users is no collateral damage; it's strategy. The besiegment of Syria's Aleppo and Eastern Ghouta towns was equally based on starvation to force a submission to this strategy.

 

Hunger as a weapon is terrifyingly effective because it attacks the most vulnerable: children, the elderly, and the already marginalized. It creates a cascading crisis—malnutrition leads to disease, displacement fuels chaos, and the collapse of food systems ensures prolonged suffering even after the guns fall silent. Unlike bullets or bombs, the effects of hunger endure for generations, stunting not just bodies but entire futures.

 

Why does the international community allow this crime to continue? Laws exist—the Geneva Conventions, for example, ban starvation as a tool of war—yet there is no strength in enforcing them. Humanitarian aid often finds itself caught between the hammer and the anvil of politics as parties to conflict use denial of access to gain leverage. Millions of lives become mere pawns on the chessboard of power. Among these millions are countless unheard voices, crying out for food, dignity, and recognition.

 

Yet, in this dark narrative, there is space for hope. Advocacy groups, humanitarian organizations, and whistleblowers continue to expose and challenge the weaponization of hunger. It is the responsibility of the international community to amplify these voices, make perpetrators accountable, and build frameworks to protect civilians. 

 

Listening to the voices of the unheard is not merely an act of compassion; it is a moral imperative. They are the refugees recounting stories of empty fields and barren kitchens. They are the mothers, the children, and the elderly, whose resilience shines despite unimaginable hardships. Their testimonies must drive action—not pity—to dismantle the systems that perpetuate hunger as a weapon.

 

The weaponization of hunger is a stark reminder of the fact that the costs of war go far, far beyond the battlefields. It is a clarion call to all of us to demand accountability, support humanitarian efforts, and never let the voices of the starving go unheeded. As we reflect on the theme of this month's magazine, "Voices of the Unheard," let us amplify the cries of those silenced by hunger and resolve to transform their suffering into a rallying cry for justice.

 

Hunger must cease to be a weapon. It must return to its rightful place: as a fundamental human right, not a tool of war.