hello please share and donate if you can to @gazahanan5! the genocide is still ongoing and she and her young children need to be able to buy food, water, medicine, and clothes. thank you
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@tortiefrancis @lonniemachin @thatsonehellofabird @wellwaterhysteria @rosewaterboard
**The Long Walk Home**
After 15 months of uncertainty, the announcement of a ceasefire came like a distant echo, a brief glimpse of hope amidst the chaos. For me, it meant the chance to return home—to Gaza City, her heart still beating for the streets, the people, the life that had been torn apart.
With only a small bag in hand, I’m, along with family and hundreds of others, began the long, grueling walk from the southern parts of Gaza, where I and my family had sought refuge. The roads, once familiar, were now filled with debris and destruction. There were no vehicles, no taxis to ease the journey. Only the sound of footsteps, the soft sobs of children, and the occasional murmur of prayers.
The scorching heat made the walk unbearable. We trudged through the ruins, each step more painful than the last. Ten kilometers. It felt like an eternity. I feet were raw, my body exhausted, but the thought of home, of the family and friends I had left behind, kept my moving forward.
As we passed what used to be neighborhoods, I couldn’t help but gasp. Buildings that had once stood tall were now nothing more than crumbled shells of concrete, twisted metal, and broken glass.
Where were the houses, the shops, the familiar faces?
We passed by what used to be a lively market, now reduced to ashes and shattered stone. A small boy in front of mine was crying, his face covered in dirt. His mother, too tired to comfort him, merely whispered soothing words, though they held little weight in a world so broken.
My thoughts drifted back to my friends. Jameel, who had been my closest companion since childhood, was nowhere to be found. The war had taken so much from us. Families, homes, lives—everything seemed to be swallowed by the endless violence
My friends we still need your support to help us face these challenges and rebuild what’s been lost.
(##167 on the verified fundraiser list by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi) (but we had to make a new gfm campaign cuz our old organizer stopped contacting us).
##dllxv-vetted-donations
@octodrawn @chrlotpony @wascallywabbit1938 @thebearme @folium-basement-show @leffee
If nobody ever explained this to you, if someone you see a lot does something you like and you never ever tell them that, they might think you don’t like them or don’t like the things they do for you.
Please go support their family
My little child bears the trouble of fetching water for us, even though at this age he should be playing and having fun like children. This is the condition of our children. Their weak bodies suffer because of responsibility.
https://gofund.me/bf16d08d
Donate 10$ change my life
https://gofund.me/bf16d08d
My child suffers from unknown skin diseases in the form of pimples and burns
. He is in severe pain and cannot sleep comfortably. This is due to the lack of money to buy detergents and medicine to treat him. Everything around us is unclean. Environmental pollution surrounds us everywhere. Help me get money to protect my children from this epidemic. If you cannot Share it with your friends so that someone can help me and save my family
pure love
🙏🏻We Need Your Kindness to Survive
A Family's Unending Journey for Safety in Gaza
My name is Mohammed, and I’m 35 years old, working as a nurse in a hospital here in Gaza. My wife, Diana, is 27, and together we’re trying to give our two young daughters a safe, stable life in a place that knows so little of either.
Our journey began in December 2023. That was when the military ordered us to evacuate our home in Al-Nuseirat. With only minutes to decide, we grabbed what we could carry, took our little girls, and moved to Khan Yunis, hoping it would be safer.
But our time there was short. We were ordered to leave Khan Yunis, so we packed up again and moved to Rafah. For a moment, we let ourselves hope that this would be the end of our running, that maybe we could start to rebuild. But Rafah wasn't safe either. Another order came, and we had no choice but to return to Al-Nuseirat, despite the dangers.
Today, we're renting a small apartment in Al-Nuseirat. It barely fits us, but it's the only place we can go. We live every day in fear, wondering if the next evacuation order will come. Each move takes away a bit more of the stability we try so hard to create for our girls. Every time we’re forced to flee, it feels like we leave behind pieces of the life we’ve worked to build.
There’s little left to hold on to but each other, and the hope that maybe one day we’ll finally find safety.
To Donate 👇
Thank you for support and kindness
Mohammed & Diana