Before the war, my husband, my mother, and I decided to go to Egypt for a vacation and to undergo in vitro fertilization. But soon, the war broke out, and we found ourselves stranded there without residency or income. We lived in a shelter for cancer patients, where we found some support from a community sharing our struggles. However, my husband’s father needed expensive monthly treatments. We began collecting donations from friends and acquaintances, trying to adapt to our new reality. Despite the challenges, we held on to hope that the war would end soon so we could return home and pursue our dream of starting a family.
Hello👋
Please take a moment to read my story.
I am Heba Al-Dahdouh. I currently live in the completely destroyed city of Gaza. Since the war on Gaza began on 7/1/2024, my family- my father Nasif, my mother Asmaa, and my siblings Khaled, Ahmad, Muhammad, and Malak-have been living in constant fear, crying, and suffering due to shrapnel, shells, and bullets.
We have no food, no electricity, no cooking gas, no schools, no homes, no cleaning supplies, and no clothes. My school has been bombed, and my brother Khaled's university is now rubble, depriving us all of education. The war has forced us to live in displacement centers, which are just tents unsuitable for living, especially in winter.
Every day we live death, terror, and panic a thousand times because of the ongoing bombardment of my city. The war has killed more than 50 of my relatives and neighbors. At the start of the war, we sought refuge at my aunt's house, . Imagine: we have survived imminent death more than 20 times and have been displaced among shelters more than 13 times. My siblings and I have suffered from many illnesses due to malnutrition, and we need medication continuously.
If we stay in Gaza, we might lose our lives. Recently, we have been seriously considering leaving Gaza for a safe place. However, travel costs are extremely high. We need over $50,000 to leave Gaza. Due to exorbitant prices, rampant unemployment, lack of security, the ongoing siege, and relentless bombardment, we have lost all our money. How can we live in such insecurity, with constant shelling and shrapnel flying above us? Dear compassionate friends around the world,
With your generous donations, even if small, you can save 7 people from imminent death, allowing us to start a life outside Gaza filled with love, peace, and hope.
With my warmest regards from the city of Gaza,
Heba Al-Dahdouh.
Any support to my family in Palestine
Guys this family has been raising funds since May 10th and they've only received €30 out of 40,000
Khalil and his wife Amal have 4 kids.
Mohammed, 10, who you can see lost weight due to the genocide, famine and displacements
Sara, 16 years old, Ibrahim, 14, Karim, 12
The family is currently trapped in Rafah and they need our help to rebuild their lives. Donate. Boost if you can't
Giving up on my Family in Gaza Facing Death and Famine is NOT an option!
The living conditions of the people of Gaza are worsening drastically. Netanyahu is hell-bent on massacring my people and destroying every form of life in Gaza. As I think continuously about the fate of my family and the different possible scenarios, my heart skips beats.
They live in fear of death 24/7, with no electricity, no clean running water, no cooking gas, no proper food, no work, no life! They, like all the helpless poor people of Gaza, deserve a break. As time passes, the risk of losing some or all of my family members increases. Time, unfortunately, is not on my side as the war becomes more vicious and ferocious every day.
Hopefully, when the Rafah crossing is operational again, I will spare no effort to temporarily evacuate them to Egypt until the war is over. They are torn apart and I am devastated!
I would like to see my family🙏😭
he tries
Danny doodles! After not posting art for ages I thought I’d upload some doodles of the lil guy
help mw
Please help me rebulid my Bakery
I'm Ismail Almughanni an entrepreneur from devastated Gaza trying his best to rebuild his Bakery 🍞🥐🥖
On a quiet morning, the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the street, signaling the start of a new day at your small bakery, a place you took immense pride in. For years, this bakery had been a haven where people from all around would gather to enjoy the warm, delicious pastries and bread that you carefully crafted. It was a symbol of hard work, a beacon of hope, and a destination for anyone seeking a taste of comfort amidst life's challenges.
But one day, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The sounds of bombing began to shake the city, and it wasn’t long before the fires of war reached your neighborhood. There was no warning, no chance to escape or save what you could. Shells rained down on the district that housed your beloved bakery. You watched helplessly from a distance, unable to do anything.
Minutes passed like hours. When the noise finally subsided, and the thick smoke that blocked out the sun began to clear, you looked towards your cherished place. It was destroyed.
The walls that once protected you and brought you closer to your customers had collapsed, and the oven where you had kindled the flames of hope had turned to ash. Everything was shattered, broken, as if that place had never been a sanctuary of peace and comfort.
But the destruction wasn’t just physical. The pain in your heart was far greater than any material loss, a place filled with beautiful memories now reduced to rubble. The moments when you saw smiles on people’s faces as they savored your bread, the laughter that echoed through the bakery—those were now just memories, dissolving in the ashes of devastation.
As days went by, you tried to piece together the fragments, not just of the bakery but of yourself as well. You knew rebuilding wouldn’t be easy, and the wounds left by the war wouldn’t heal quickly. But you also knew that the hope you had infused into your bread would remain alive in your heart, even if the tables and chairs were destroyed, even if the bakery itself was gone.
The bakery may have been destroyed by war, but its spirit lives on in you, in everyone who tasted your bread, and in everyone who walked into that small place and found a slice of happiness.
I'm Abdelrahman, 22 years old. My journey has been marked by loss and resilience. When I was 18, my father passed away from COVID-19. Determined to build my own future, I pursued an education in multimedia technology, balancing my studies with work to cover my expenses. I was preparing to establish my home and life.
My mother: the princess whom we strive to make happy and satisfy. ❤️️
However, the war in Gaza, especially in the north, brought devastating tragedy. My home, university, job, and family were all destroyed in the conflict. While my family moved to the south, I was in the north, facing famine and moving from place to place, trying to survive.
Our street used to be lively and full of people, but it is no longer like that.
I have witnessed countless difficult and painful scenes while escaping death multiple times. In northern Gaza, life is reduced to a cycle of fleeing from danger and searching for food amidst the rubble of destroyed homes.
I have survived many times,I was hit by a missile in previously destroyed house
My dream is to travel abroad with my mother and sister to continue my education and develop my practical skills. For the past eight months, I have been unemployed, focusing on self-improvement and hoping for a better future.