Can You Hear Us? Can You Feel What We’re Going Through? Fear. Hunger. Death. A Never-ending Siege.

‼️‼️We will die at any moment‼️‼️

The war has returned after 15 months of death and genocide. We have never rested. We are losing people every day, most of them children and women... The bombing is everywhere. Our children are afraid...The sound is frightening.😭

There is no food, no drink, no medicine, the crossing is closed and everything is expensive.

‼️We don't want to die. Please donate and help us so we can buy food and medicine for my mother and save ourselves from death. Just donate. 😭🙏😞🫂‼️

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Wasim's family rebuild their lives, organized by Freya Knarr

My name is Freya Knarr and I live near Chicago, IL. Because Gofundme does not allo… Freya Knarr needs your support for Help Wasim's family r

Bring hope to a family in need ❤️

Mohamad has been shattered by loss and now faces crushing debt while fighting to protect his sister and her five children. Your support can give them the safe, fresh start they desperately need.

We’ve reached 21% of our €20,000 goal (€4,279 raised), but there's still a long road ahead. Every euro counts, and every share spreads hope.

This isn’t about names, backgrounds, or beliefs. It’s about humanity.

Please donate or pass this along to someone who can help.

✅ Verified by Association:

@bilal-salah0 Here

🔗 Donate & share: Donation Link (gofundme.com)

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohamad reunite his family and clear his debt, organized by Adam Bin Ali

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is faci… Adam Bin Ali needs your support for Help Mohamad reunite his family

Save our lives ‼️🚨

"I am Wissam... The last time I hugged someone, it was a corpse." 😭💔

The night was very long that day. I was counting the days until I would give birth to my twins. I brought them names, and planned to wrap my body around them when the tents grew cold. But death was faster. 😭

We fled our home under shelling, and my father was in the hospital, unable to stand. I told them, "My father can't move." The soldier said, "It doesn't matter, leave." So we left... and my father was left alone, until his heart closed forever. 😔💔

On the way south, I walked for hours carrying two children in my belly, a bag in my hand, and the rest of my memories on my back.

I bled on the way.

I lost my twins there, on the asphalt, in front of my other children who couldn't even cry. 😭😭

The next day, I woke up and found them buried under the sand. No grave, no names.

Now, I'm seven months pregnant with my third child.

But anemia is tearing me apart, stress is breaking my head, and hunger is eating away at what's left of me.

I feel my baby pleading with me from within: "Mother, don't die."

And I apologize to him every day... because I can't promise him life.

“I am Wissam… I lost my father, my children, my home, and even my voice.

I don’t want to lose this child too.

Help me before I become another memory in this broken land.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Wissam's Family Escape War and Famine, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Wissa… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Wissam's Family Esc

My father was the only one I could place all my hopes and dreams on. He was the one who lifted me up whenever I fell, and held my hand when my steps faltered. In those dark days of war, I saw him strong in front of me. Even in moments of silence, his presence was enough to make me feel safe. He wasn't just the father I loved, he was my refuge, the hope I lived by. 😭💔

But one day, suddenly, that hope disappeared.

The sky was covered with heavy clouds, as if it knew what was going to happen. That day, I was at home, climbing on my tiptoes, holding on to any glimmer of hope, but when I entered our small room, I found my mother in the corner of the room crying, her face pale, her eyes filled with tears, and her mouth almost unable to speak. 💔😭

I couldn't believe what she was saying. My father, who had always been the strength in my life, was gone. In an instant, everything disappeared, and the words kept repeating in my head without me being able to understand them. "He's not coming back." Those words were harder than any blow I had ever received in my life. 😭😭

I felt like I was in a dark dream. How could my father disappear like that? How could time go on without his voice, without me seeing his face again? How much I needed him in those moments, how much I needed to hear his words of reassurance. But it was all over, and all that remained was the silence filling the emptiness around me. 💔

Every corner of the house became a tragedy. Everything reminded me of him, every corner, every smell, everything. I thought I would lose my ability to breathe. His absence was heavier than anything else. I cannot imagine a world without him, and I cannot see a future without his advice, without a hand to lift me up whenever I feel like I am drowning.

As I sit here, in that dark room, I remember everything about my father. How he used to laugh when I made small mistakes, how he used to hug me when the world was dark, and how his words filled my life with meaning. But now he's not here, and the emptiness in my heart can't be filled with anything else. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in every corner. I feel him, but I can't touch him. And despite all the pain, despite all the sadness, I know he's not coming back, that he's left me in this world, to face it alone.

He's gone, but a part of him, a part of his soul, will remain in my heart forever. Even though I can't hear his voice or see him, I carry his memories with me every step of the way, every moment. I've lost him, but I can never forget him.😭😔

Share my campaign 🙏

Thank you 🩷

https://gofund.me/991535b1

Hello, my name is Ahmad Al-Louh, and I am from Gaza. Before the war, I worked as a lawyer, dedicating my life to helping others, seeking justice, and defending the oppressed. Today, I am no longer the lawyer who protects others; I am a father desperately trying to protect his children from the horrors of war.

My two little ones, Orhan and Helana, go to sleep every night to the sounds of bombs and missiles. All I wish for is to give them one more day of life. Just five dollars could be the difference between life and death for my small family. My parents, my siblings, my wife, and my children all depend on me, and all I ask is for you to stand by me in this nightmare we are living.

Please, help spread my voice. Help me save my children and my family. I hope my message reaches your hearts.

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Ghada's campaign on GoFundMe has had it's transfers paused without cause. She relies greatly on donations to survive and now she is in desperate need of support. These are her words. Please donate and share.

Hello, I'm Ghada Mhasen, 20 years old, mother of a child born in war. She married shortly before the war and became pregnant a month before the war. The war came and killed my joy with my pregnancy and marriage, as we were forced to leave our house and flee. I left my belongings and things behind. I couldn't take anything. It was a difficult period with great difficulty. We found a tent to shelter my husband and me, because we had nothing. No one helped us. We tried to manage our affairs with the simplest and least things, but we also had to flee again, as we fled to Rafah. I heard the news of my house bombing and it was shocking news for me because it was all we had. My condition deteriorated and I was afraid for my unborn baby. Time passed and we tried to manage our affairs, but we almost died of hunger and almost lost my child, but thank God he remained fine. We continued to be displaced and our condition worsened. My husband and I were very tired until we visited Khan Yunis for the last time. It's time for me to have children and be born in a tent, a contaminated tent. There was no medical supplies. My condition was critical, but thanks to God, my child and I survived. Now I can't provide for his basic needs. We put below zero. I have now resorted to creating a Chuffed account to ask for help from you. Please help me, please. We need a tent to accommodate us from the winter and the needs of my child. We need food and drink. We need medicine. My husband worked hard to provide the simplest things for us, but while he was working, a wall fell on him and broke his foot. Now there's no way to help us live except for this donation link. Please save us. Please, every donation is important. It would have saved us from war, hunger and cold. We are not in one war. We are in three wars: the war of Zionism, the war of hunger and the war of cold. I ask you to save us. Every donation, up to $20, will save us from these wars. I am now living in a cloth that covers four sides without a roof. If winter really comes, we will die. Save us. Thank God, now after the end of the war, we are still living a very difficult life. I still can't provide for my child's needs or provide any of our needs from eating and drinking, even water with difficulty, we bring it. We always wait for any help to come to us, but unfortunately, my child does not come, he is exposed to a lot of infections because of the bad Pampers that we use for. I just want to provide what is necessary. I want to ensure a good life for him most of the time. It's rainy, uninhabitable tent. We always sink. I hope you to help us if in $50, please sympathize with us and my child. I trust you and thank you.

Chuffed

Help Ghada and her family rebuild their lives

Hello, I'm Ghada Mhasen, 20 years old, mother of a child born in war. She married shortly before the war and became pregnant a month before

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

Chuffed

I Am Saja – A Mother Holding On Through the Return of War

My name is Saja. I am a wife, a mother to a precious 8-month-old girl, and I am writing this in a moment that I wish I didn’t have to live t

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

i am absolutely begging now. mahmoud is so close to his goal. literally so fucking close. i dont know this man personally but ive been following his updates for months and months. please, just, if you see this, please stop to reblog it. i need people to see it. please.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mahmoud rebuild his artisanal bakery, organized by Mahmoud Mush

(Deutsch weiter unten) An unfulfilled dream... I write these words unsure i… Mahmoud Mush needs your support for Help Mahmoud rebuild hi

[Original video. Downloaded for easier access.]

🔴can you help me 🇵🇸🍉

This is my home Which was destroyed by the accursed occupation yesterday I'm not sad about the stones I'm sad about the memories I hope this damned war ends 💔💔😔 🍉🇵🇸

vetted by @90-ghost