I reach out to you with my broken heart, asking for help from God and from you. We are on the brink of a harsh winter, and I live in a tent that offers no protection from the burning heat of summer nor the biting cold of winter. Imagine, the rain falling, the wind howling, and here we are in Gaza, without shelter, without a roof to protect us, shivering from the cold, fighting every night just to survive.
My life has become an unending nightmare, and my children sleep trembling from the freezing cold, with fear gripping our hearts every time the clouds gather in the sky.
I beg you to share my account and contribute anything that could save us from this winter, which we dread more than ever before.
Look at how my child was in the past, and how he is now. His face once radiated innocence and angelic beauty, but now it has changed completely. This little face, once full of life, is now suffering, fading before my eyes. Where are the compassionate hearts? Who will help me protect my child, to provide the treatment he desperately needs before it’s too late? The pain I see in his eyes tears me apart, and all I can do is hope in God and the kindness of your hearts.
My children are waiting for your donations, even if it's just $5. Please, I beg you for your help.
Graphic design artist Moataz Abu Sakran/ @moatazart has provided extensive documentation of the genocide against Gaza. His photos and videos have been used—often without credit—by major media outlets, and his posts are featured on this blog regularly.
Moataz and his wife and baby girl are trapped in the vicinity of Al-Shifa Hospital complex. The area has was under complete siege for 13 days, and made life even more difficult and dangerous than before. In addition to the physical violence of the siege, the occupation’s famine has made food extremely scarce—Moataz and Mariam can no longer find milk and nutritious food for baby Maria.
They were able to raise enough funds to begin the paperwork involved in evacuating to Egypt, but exorbitant processing fees have totally depleted the money they had reserved to find a place to stay in Egypt. They need funds to procure food and shelter while they rebuild their lives in Egypt (God willing), otherwise they will be homeless and destitute.
There was an increase in donations after we initially shared the link on this blog. We are hoping that will happen again. Please support Moataz’s family via this link so that they can reach safety. Even just a few dollars will help. If you can’t donate, please share the link on all your social media accounts.
This is the primary link to donate and share. You can copy and paste it onto other posts and social media sites.
Life is unbearable. Please save my children; I don't want them to die in Gaza. If I don't survive, please don't forget them. Save them after I'm gone.❤️🙏
The bodies of the martyrs were buried in a mass grave in Khan Yunis after they were detained by the Israeli occupation in Al-Shifa Medical Complex and Beit Hanoun Hospital a few days ago They numbered 111 martyrs.
Since this morning only… 50 martyrs in two massacres committed by the occupation in Al-Tuffah neighbourhood and the beach camp, in addition to 7 martyrs in the Al-Zaytoun neighbourhood
We have all heard the story of the child Reem, who was martyred in Gaza by the bombing of the Zionist entity, and today we will talk about a similar story of the child Rasil, who was martyred at the hands of the terrorist Rapid Support militia, who are no different from the Zionists.
Her story is very sad and what happened to her is painful for all of us.
Children six years old and younger are killed without mercy. They cannot find anyone to help them and hide under cars for fear of the actions of terrorist criminals supported by one of the countries, and the world is still silent about them!
Be helpful to Sudan, Palestine, Gaza and also Syria and do not ignore what is happening to them
The #Gaza Strip is just hours away from a complete cessation of communication and internet services (irreversible), following the depletion of the necessary fuel to operate the main distributors of the network in the Strip, which are currently running on "batteries" that will be emptied within hours.
5:00 PM on November 15, 2023:
Before the communications are cut off, I have a very personal request from everyone who knows me from outside #Gaza. Please, keep spreading the word about us.
Do not tire of sharing.
Talk about the massacres, destruction, displacement, and starvation.
Speak about every clash and tank explosion.
Let the whole world remain ashamed as they witness what is happening to us and, in return, what we are doing.
and Insha'Allah (if God wills), we'll return
Very important update from our friend @moatazart! Please read!!!
Moataz, Mariam, and Maria are SO close to having enough money to rebuild their lives in Egypt! Their paperwork is started and they are preparing for the dangerous journey south. However, the processing fees were extremely high, and consumed all of the money they had set aside for living expenses in Egypt. The goal is now to raise enough money for basic necessities!
If you can give even just a few dollars, it would be an immense help! If every one of our followers gave just $2, or if even half of our followers gave just $4, Moataz’s family would meet their goal!
HERE IS THE DONATION LINK!!! You can also click the link below
PLEASE keep up the momentum! Let’s help this family escape genocide!
The city I knew, the one my children chased pigeons in and learned to ride bikes on, is gone. War, a cruel sculptor, has reshaped its once vibrant streets into a desolate landscape of twisted metal and shattered dreams.exclamation Buildings that held laughter and the scent of baking bread now stand as hollow shells, their windows vacant eyes staring back at a ravaged sky.
Memories, too, lie fractured beneath the rubble. Gone are the echoes of children's games played in sun-dappled courtyards, replaced by the relentless thud of shelling. The familiar scent of jasmine, once a signature note in the summer air, is now tainted by the acrid tang of destruction.
Each corner used to hold a story - the bakery where my daughter devoured warm croissants, the park bench where my son scraped his knee for the first time. Now, these fragments of our lives exist only in the fragile museum of my mind, a place where the war cannot reach, but still manages to cast a long shadow.
Yet, amidst the wreckage, a flicker of hope remains. Like fragile wildflowers pushing through cracked concrete, the resilience of the human spirit endures. We, the survivors, carry the weight of this loss, but also the fierce love for our children and the yearning to rebuild. We will gather the shards of our memories, piece by broken piece, and weave them into a tapestry of a new future, one where laughter finds its voice again and our children can dream safe dreams, free from the haunting echoes of war