snwb0

[snwb0]

Today was one of those days that carve their weight deep into your chest. I faced something both humiliating and painfully heavy. It started with a phone call, the kind no parent wants to receive. The school was summoning me as a guardian for my son, Adam. I went immediately, heart pounding, trying to stay composed. Inside the principal’s office, I was met with stern eyes and little softness. She told me it was unacceptable to send Adam to school with a meal of rice. He hadn’t eaten it properly, she said. Some spilled on the kindergarten floor, causing what she called a "disaster." Worse yet, the other children laughed at him... said they were disgusted by what happened. 😔

We usually send him with a small sandwich, just a quarter of a pita. But yesterday, I couldn’t find even a single kilo of flour. All we had left was a bit of rice. So we cooked what little we had, just plain white rice, hoping he could have something, anything, to eat that morning. My wife and I… we didn’t eat at all. After the principal’s lecture and the long walk home, something inside me quietly broke. We’re now thinking about keeping Adam home. The school is far, the journey is exhausting, and it only makes his hunger worse.

As I write this, neither my wife nor I have eaten. I had some tea… unsweetened, bitter. That was all. Soon I’ll head to the market again, hoping this time, maybe I’ll find something we can eat. 🤲 This pain… I don’t even know why I’m writing all this. Maybe just to release some of what’s been building inside my chest. Maybe putting it into words will make it hurt a little less.

[snwb0]

Today was one of those days that carve their weight deep into your chest. I faced something both humiliating and painfully heavy. It started with a phone call, the kind no parent wants to receive. The school was summoning me as a guardian for my son, Adam. I went immediately, heart pounding, trying to stay composed. Inside the principal’s office, I was met with stern eyes and little softness. She told me it was unacceptable to send Adam to school with a meal of rice. He hadn’t eaten it properly, she said. Some spilled on the kindergarten floor, causing what she called a "disaster." Worse yet, the other children laughed at him... said they were disgusted by what happened. 😔

We usually send him with a small sandwich, just a quarter of a pita. But yesterday, I couldn’t find even a single kilo of flour. All we had left was a bit of rice. So we cooked what little we had, just plain white rice, hoping he could have something, anything, to eat that morning. My wife and I… we didn’t eat at all. After the principal’s lecture and the long walk home, something inside me quietly broke. We’re now thinking about keeping Adam home. The school is far, the journey is exhausting, and it only makes his hunger worse.

As I write this, neither my wife nor I have eaten. I had some tea… unsweetened, bitter. That was all. Soon I’ll head to the market again, hoping this time, maybe I’ll find something we can eat. 🤲 This pain… I don’t even know why I’m writing all this. Maybe just to release some of what’s been building inside my chest. Maybe putting it into words will make it hurt a little less.

[snwb0]

Today was one of those days that carve their weight deep into your chest. I faced something both humiliating and painfully heavy. It started with a phone call, the kind no parent wants to receive. The school was summoning me as a guardian for my son, Adam. I went immediately, heart pounding, trying to stay composed. Inside the principal’s office, I was met with stern eyes and little softness. She told me it was unacceptable to send Adam to school with a meal of rice. He hadn’t eaten it properly, she said. Some spilled on the kindergarten floor, causing what she called a "disaster." Worse yet, the other children laughed at him... said they were disgusted by what happened. 😔

We usually send him with a small sandwich, just a quarter of a pita. But yesterday, I couldn’t find even a single kilo of flour. All we had left was a bit of rice. So we cooked what little we had, just plain white rice, hoping he could have something, anything, to eat that morning. My wife and I… we didn’t eat at all. After the principal’s lecture and the long walk home, something inside me quietly broke. We’re now thinking about keeping Adam home. The school is far, the journey is exhausting, and it only makes his hunger worse.

As I write this, neither my wife nor I have eaten. I had some tea… unsweetened, bitter. That was all. Soon I’ll head to the market again, hoping this time, maybe I’ll find something we can eat. 🤲 This pain… I don’t even know why I’m writing all this. Maybe just to release some of what’s been building inside my chest. Maybe putting it into words will make it hurt a little less.

[snwb0]

Today was one of those days that carve their weight deep into your chest. I faced something both humiliating and painfully heavy. It started with a phone call, the kind no parent wants to receive. The school was summoning me as a guardian for my son, Adam. I went immediately, heart pounding, trying to stay composed. Inside the principal’s office, I was met with stern eyes and little softness. She told me it was unacceptable to send Adam to school with a meal of rice. He hadn’t eaten it properly, she said. Some spilled on the kindergarten floor, causing what she called a "disaster." Worse yet, the other children laughed at him... said they were disgusted by what happened. 😔

We usually send him with a small sandwich, just a quarter of a pita. But yesterday, I couldn’t find even a single kilo of flour. All we had left was a bit of rice. So we cooked what little we had, just plain white rice, hoping he could have something, anything, to eat that morning. My wife and I… we didn’t eat at all. After the principal’s lecture and the long walk home, something inside me quietly broke. We’re now thinking about keeping Adam home. The school is far, the journey is exhausting, and it only makes his hunger worse.

As I write this, neither my wife nor I have eaten. I had some tea… unsweetened, bitter. That was all. Soon I’ll head to the market again, hoping this time, maybe I’ll find something we can eat. 🤲 This pain… I don’t even know why I’m writing all this. Maybe just to release some of what’s been building inside my chest. Maybe putting it into words will make it hurt a little less.

[snwb0]

Help my friend @nourasbasha feed his kids, my heart is breaking when i hear of the hunger his children are experiencing, begging for help crying for someone to listen.

“I swear to you, we are hungry. My kids cry all day saying ‘I’m hungry, I want to eat’ — and I have nothing to give them. Even my baby, not yet a year old, searches for a piece of bread or a spoon of lentils. We’re not asking for milk or vegetables or baby formula… just bread. Just flour to make bread.”

The situation in Gaza is apocalyptic and israel is starving palestinians out on purpose, profitting from the famine to charge palestinians insane prices for food.

These people live through it, please hear them out. Please help them out and don't just look away as palestinians bleed.

Anything helps, shares, donates, talking and raising awareness, don't let @nourasbasha down.

Vetted #644 on gazavetters list,

[snwb0]

Help my friend @nourasbasha feed his kids, my heart is breaking when i hear of the hunger his children are experiencing, begging for help crying for someone to listen.

“I swear to you, we are hungry. My kids cry all day saying ‘I’m hungry, I want to eat’ — and I have nothing to give them. Even my baby, not yet a year old, searches for a piece of bread or a spoon of lentils. We’re not asking for milk or vegetables or baby formula… just bread. Just flour to make bread.”

The situation in Gaza is apocalyptic and israel is starving palestinians out on purpose, profitting from the famine to charge palestinians insane prices for food.

These people live through it, please hear them out. Please help them out and don't just look away as palestinians bleed.

Anything helps, shares, donates, talking and raising awareness, don't let @nourasbasha down.

Vetted #644 on gazavetters list,

[snwb0]

Help my friend @nourasbasha feed his kids, my heart is breaking when i hear of the hunger his children are experiencing, begging for help crying for someone to listen.

“I swear to you, we are hungry. My kids cry all day saying ‘I’m hungry, I want to eat’ — and I have nothing to give them. Even my baby, not yet a year old, searches for a piece of bread or a spoon of lentils. We’re not asking for milk or vegetables or baby formula… just bread. Just flour to make bread.”

The situation in Gaza is apocalyptic and israel is starving palestinians out on purpose, profitting from the famine to charge palestinians insane prices for food.

These people live through it, please hear them out. Please help them out and don't just look away as palestinians bleed.

Anything helps, shares, donates, talking and raising awareness, don't let @nourasbasha down.

Vetted #644 on gazavetters list,

[snwb0]

Help my friend @nourasbasha feed his kids, my heart is breaking when i hear of the hunger his children are experiencing, begging for help crying for someone to listen.

“I swear to you, we are hungry. My kids cry all day saying ‘I’m hungry, I want to eat’ — and I have nothing to give them. Even my baby, not yet a year old, searches for a piece of bread or a spoon of lentils. We’re not asking for milk or vegetables or baby formula… just bread. Just flour to make bread.”

The situation in Gaza is apocalyptic and israel is starving palestinians out on purpose, profitting from the famine to charge palestinians insane prices for food.

These people live through it, please hear them out. Please help them out and don't just look away as palestinians bleed.

Anything helps, shares, donates, talking and raising awareness, don't let @nourasbasha down.

Vetted #644 on gazavetters list,

[snwb0]

"After 653 days, I stand before you without shame... I am hungry, and my children are hungry."

I am Engineer Mohamed, and my wife Enas is an English teacher. We launched our campaign to face the war and harsh conditions — to provide education for our children and a safe home.

We tried to stay strong… but today, we need food. Our children are hungry, and we, the adults, try not to eat so that there’s something left for them.

My sons and daughters constantly ask for food — their voices break my heart. We try to eat once a day, and we ask them to drink a lot of water just to silence the hunger in their little stomachs. 💔

We never needed help before the war. Believe me, this is bigger than us. This hunger is deliberate, a cruel policy. Today, we crave bread — just bread, with nothing else.

So I ask you, humbly: if you are able to help financially, please donate. We are no longer asking for vegetables, meat, or anything else… just flour, so our children can eat. 🙏

[snwb0]

My dear sister Maryam,

I can’t say much .. words fail to express what we truly feel.

Help & donations, click here 🙏💗

[snwb0]

With deep shame, pain, and anger… I am hungry.💔

[snwb0]

With deep shame, pain, and anger… I am hungry.💔

[snwb0]

With deep shame, pain, and anger… I am hungry.💔

[snwb0]

[snwb0]

I know…

A tent. Dirty clothes. Dusty faces. That’s what gets attention.

It’s easier to feel moved by visible pain.

But here’s the hard part:

What breaks my heart isn’t just hunger or war —

It’s knowing my children are losing another school year. That their future is slipping away.

So I chose the harder path.

I pay triple the price to rent an apartment — not because I can afford it, but because I want my kids to study, sleep safely, and stay clean.

I chose not to exploit their pain to get sympathy.

But it seems… dignity costs visibility.

I’m not yelling. I’m speaking — quietly, respectfully.

But honestly, it feels like I’m talking to walls.

Do I need to let my kids suffer publicly just to be noticed?

Is there anyone willing to hear us without needing tears or trauma to believe our worth?

I need a real platform. A real voice. Just one person to follow, to share, to care.

Not pity — solidarity. Not clicks — commitment to a just cause.

@ot3 @animentality @papasmoke @punkitt-is-here @postanagramgenerator @strangeauthor @yugiohz @prisonhannibal @skunkes @3000s @tamamita @sayruq @sar-soor @rickybabyboy @wolfertinger666 @valtsv @fray @paper-mario-wiki @prisonhannibal @prinnay @sporesgalaxy @skunkes @noble-kale @dirhwangdaseul @omegaversereloaded @viruvec @liyrical @arttla @tpwrtrmnky @paper-mario-wiki @joshpeck @wolfythewitch @zzoupz @carry-on-my-wayward-butt @color-palettes @taffybuns @shencomix @extremelycursedimages @amygdalae @joshpeck @biracy @soranatus @txttletale @beserkerjewel @miiilowo @heritageposts @juney-blues

(This isn’t blame. It’s a reminder: I’m here. And I chose the harder path — even if it means being less seen.) 💔✌️🇵🇸

[snwb0]

This is what the children of Gaza draw...

This is what Gaza’s children draw… and what my children draw too.

As a father of four, I’ve shared with you before some of the innocent drawings my children created — drawings filled with hope, despite the darkness that surrounds us.

In Gaza, children use colors to speak when their voices are silenced. Their drawings carry the weight of what no child should ever experience: fear, hunger, destruction, and loss.

My own children dream not just of peace, but of continuing their education and having a safe place to call home.

But under the crushing siege, amid famine and endless fear, even the most basic needs — food, clean water, and shelter — have become nearly impossible to afford.

We are trying to survive.

We are trying to protect our children’s future.

Please, support our campaign. Stand with us. Donate if you can, and help us hold on a little longer.

Donate for humanity, childhood, education, food and shelter.. Please donate for us💔❤️‍🩹

Vetted #644 by @gazavetters

[snwb0]

I'm not okay.

Tired? That word doesn’t even come close. I’m shattered, broken, grieving for every ounce of safety we lost — for every child I held as they screamed in terror, for every night I stayed awake, arms wrapped around my kids, not knowing where the next strike would fall. I can’t explain to my son why there’s no bread, why the water is gone, why he keeps asking, “Why are we here? Why can’t we leave?” I’m not asking for pity. I’m screaming — because silence has become betrayal.

All I want is one moment — just one — where I can feel like a father again. Not a fighter. Not a refugee. Not the survivor of another massacre. I’m Mohamed, from Gaza. I carry all its pain in my chest. And I’m still standing — but don’t ask me how.

Who’s still standing after all this doesn’t ask — he screams. And if you’re listening, this is the call.