When War Happens, It Is Not Equal: The Poor Pay the Highest Price

By Zein Ahmed

War is often discussed in numbers.

Territories gained.
Ceasefires broken.
Casualties counted.

But war is not experienced in numbers.

It is experienced in kitchens without food.

In mothers skipping meals so their children can eat.

In daughters pulled out of school because survival comes first.

And if there is one truth we refuse to confront enough, it is this:

War is not equal. It does not impact everyone the same.

It is the poor who pay the highest price.

Poverty Turns Crisis Into Catastrophe

For those living comfortably, war is disruption.
For those living below the poverty line, war is collapse.

A family already living day-to-day cannot absorb shocks:
•    A rise in food prices means immediate hunger 
•    Loss of work means no income at all 
•    Displacement means losing everything, overnight 

There are no savings. No safety nets. No buffer.

When systems break, the poor don’t bend.

They break.

Women and Children Carry the Heaviest Burden

In every conflict zone, the same pattern repeats.

Women and children suffer disproportionately—not by accident, but by structure.
•    Women lose access to income, mobility, and safety 
•    Girls are pulled out of schools first 
•    Child labor increases 
•    Early marriages rise as a survival strategy 
•    Malnutrition rates among children spike 

And perhaps the most invisible cost of all:

The emotional labor of survival falls on women.

They are the ones stretching food, managing scarcity, holding families together—while carrying fear, grief, and exhaustion in silence.

The Violence Beyond the Battlefield

War is not only bombs and bullets. It is:
•    Inflation that makes basic food unaffordable 
•    Supply chains breaking down 
•    Healthcare becoming inaccessible 
•    Education systems collapsing 

And these secondary effects linger long after headlines move on.

For the poor, the war doesn’t end when the ceasefire is declared.

It continues—in debt, hunger, and lost futures.

What Can We Do—From Where We Are?

It’s easy to feel helpless in the face of something so large.
But there are things we can do—small, consistent, meaningful actions that shift the balance.

Support livelihoods, not just relief

Emergency aid matters. But long-term dignity comes from income.
Support businesses and organizations that:
•    Pay fair wages 
•    Work with vulnerable communities 
•    Create sustainable earning opportunities Because income is protection.

Be conscious of how we spend

The choices we make daily matter more than we think.
The extra amount we bargain away from a small vendor
The wages we negotiate down with domestic workers
The decision to buy cheap over ethical
These decisions ripple outward.
That Rs 100 saved by us could be a meal lost for someone else.

Share stories that humanize, not just numbers

Awareness is not about statistics alone.

It is about reminding people:
•    These are families 
•    These are children 
•    These are mothers just trying to survive 

Stories build empathy. And empathy drives action.

Advocate for systems that protect the vulnerable

Whether through policy, funding, or platforms—we need to push for structures that prioritize:
•    Women’s economic participation 
•    Access to education 
•    Fair wages 

Because vulnerability is not accidental. It is built—and it can be rebuilt.

A Final Reflection

I often think back to a moment during one of my visits to rural artisans.
There was one roti and a small bowl of daal in the house—meant for three children.
And yet, it was placed in front of me.
That family chose generosity, even in scarcity.
War strips people of so much.
But it also reveals something profound:
Those with the least often give the most.

The question is—what are we, with so much more, willing to give?