๐ฟ My Name is Rola, and This is My Story ๐ฟ
I never thought I would be writing this. I never thought I would be begging for help just to keep my children warm, just to feed them one more meal. But here I am, reaching out to you, because I have no other choice.
My name is Rola. I am a mother of two beautiful children, and before October 7th, we had a life filled with love and laughter. We had a home. My children had their own room, filled with their toys and drawings. We would sit together on our balcony, drinking coffee in the early morning light. We had dreams, just like any other family.
But in an instant, it was all gone.
A missile struck. The earth shook beneath us. The air filled with dust and fire. My husband and son ran, stumbling over each other in terror. I stood frozen, the ringing in my ears drowning out my own screams. Our home was shatteredโwindows blown out, doors ripped from their hinges. And when I looked outside, our neighborโs house, a place that once echoed with children's laughter, was nothing but rubble and ash.
That was just the beginning.
The bombs never stopped. Every night, I held my children close as the sky rained fire. The sound of explosions mixed with the cries of mothers searching for their babies in the darkness. I covered my children, whispering words of comfort, but how do you comfort a child who is terrified of dying in their sleep?
We had to leave. We walked away from everythingโour home, our memories, the warmth of our life before. My children left behind their favorite toys, their books, their safe space. Now, we have nothing.
No home.
No food.
No clean water.
No way out.
I went to buy sugar the other day. It cost $20 for just a kilo. Food is disappearing, and the little that remains is impossible to afford. Every day, I fight to find just enough to keep my children alive.
I am exhausted. I am scared. I need your help.
I never imagined I would have to beg for my familyโs survival. But today, I am.
Please, if you are reading this, help us. Help me save my children. Help us find shelter, food, a way to rebuild even a small piece of the life we lost. If we ever have the chance to leave, we need support. If we are forced to stay, we need a home again.
Every donation matters. Every share helps. Every voice that speaks for us keeps hope alive.
๐ Please donate if you can. Share our story. Help us survive. ๐
ok last thing. but what people fundamentally need to get through their heads is the significance of gaza fundraisers not being the same as like mutual aid when you're helping someone get groceries, because it is a genocide. there is insane deliberate scarcity and prices are unmanageable, because there is nowhere nearly enough for everyone, so only people who can pay can eat. and what positioning individual fundraisers as the only course of action does is quite simply give a tiny percentage of random people whose fundraisers take off the ability to pay those prices while thousands of others can't. and every one of those thousands of people without a fundraiser is suffering through the same inconceivably horrific reality. it is giving a few completely desperate people out of hundreds of thousands a slightly more favorable position in a horrific war economy of imposed scarcity. and what grassroots community kitchens do is try to mitigate in some small way that inconceivable hierarchy of who can pay and who can't, by stretching ingredients as far as they can last to cook meals at large scale and give them out at no cost. and obviously people are still going to send money to their friends and families because this is hell what else are we supposed to do but please just think about that before promoting endless individual fundraisers as somehow the most ethical way to help
#SaveMohammed
#Don'tLetHimDie
#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes
#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust
@myceliacrochet3 @biconicfinn @feluka @7bittersweet @milfstalin @mossdeep @bahrmp3 @butchniqabi @kamek @riotbard @vilecrocodile @bakugames-fr @cagandante-communistoide @ohemaa-warrior @postanagramgenerator @toiletpotato @handweavers @bedufairy @hiveswap @jewishdainix @mdqqqt036ur21-blog @lab-practicum
@goldenspirits @pikslasrce @komsomolka @khizuo @timetravellingkitty @pyaasa @elfilibusterismo @sayruq @opencommunion @sar-soor @turtletoria-art @aflamethatneverdies @anyonghalimaw @khangerinedreams @autisticmudkip @nesmamomen @a-shade-of-blue
@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @schoolhater98 @sawasawako-archived @appsappsapps @anneemay-blog @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria
Can you imagine digging his grave...
Not because he lost the battle -
But because no one gave him a chance to fight?
Every second is a knife.Every breath he loses - it breaks me more than death does.
I'm not asking for luxury.
I'm not asking for miracles.
I'm begging: Don't force me to bury him while he's still looking at me.
If you have an ounce of humanity - help me.
If you're a mother, a father, a human being - save him.
If you can't donate, share this. Let the world hear his silent scream.
@kyra45-helping-others @7bittersweet @tortiefrancis @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @aristotels @komsomolka @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotiff @stuckinaprill @mavigator @lacecap
@deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @dirhwangdaseul @tamamita @chokulit @3000s @killing-stalking-posts @apas-95 @ot3 @punkitt-is-here @vampiricvenus @turtletoria-art @postanagramgenerator @paper-mario-wiki @valtsv @omegaversereloaded @i-am-a-fish @catsgifsarefun @spongebobssquarepants @vamprein @postanagramgenerator @feluka-blog-blog @nyancrimew @beserkerjewel @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako-archived @spacebeyonce @skipppppy
Hello everyone, I have another campaign to share.
Muhammad, his wife, and their free children are fighting to survive in Ghazza. They've been displaced and are living without the most basic resources. Their youngest, Lara, doesn't have any milk to drink; their son Abboud has contracted hepatitis which they cannot treat.
This family's source of income was the children's clothing store that Muhammad ran, however it was destroyed in the bombings. They now have no way to earn money, no roof to sleep under, and no access to clean water or food.
In order to evacuate from Ghazza, rebuild their lives, and receive necessary medical care, they need to raise $40,000 CAD. As of writing, they've only raised $894 thus far.
Please help this family in any way that you can. Donate if you're able to donate, and share their campaign. Anything you can contribute will help them survive and rebuild.
Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!
NOOOOO ITS ALL BECAUSE OF THAT EMO BAND MEME ๐ญ
Save our lives ๐จ๐จ
Help me before I become another silence on this weary earth.
Thank you ๐ค
I keep forgetting to post a new meme sorry yaโll โฐ๏ธ
โAs immovable as fate, I hate it so.โ WE FOUND ANOTHER ONE BOYS
The worst thing in the entire world is when youโre sweeping a big pile of dirt into a dustpan and it leaves that little coke line of grit behind. No matter how you position your pan or your broom and no matter how many times you sweep over it your outcome cannot change. As immovable as fate. I hate it so
๐ฟ My Name is Rola, and This is My Story ๐ฟ
I never thought I would be writing this. I never thought I would be begging for help just to keep my children warm, just to feed them one more meal. But here I am, reaching out to you, because I have no other choice.
My name is Rola. I am a mother of two beautiful children, and before October 7th, we had a life filled with love and laughter. We had a home. My children had their own room, filled with their toys and drawings. We would sit together on our balcony, drinking coffee in the early morning light. We had dreams, just like any other family.
But in an instant, it was all gone.
A missile struck. The earth shook beneath us. The air filled with dust and fire. My husband and son ran, stumbling over each other in terror. I stood frozen, the ringing in my ears drowning out my own screams. Our home was shatteredโwindows blown out, doors ripped from their hinges. And when I looked outside, our neighborโs house, a place that once echoed with children's laughter, was nothing but rubble and ash.
That was just the beginning.
The bombs never stopped. Every night, I held my children close as the sky rained fire. The sound of explosions mixed with the cries of mothers searching for their babies in the darkness. I covered my children, whispering words of comfort, but how do you comfort a child who is terrified of dying in their sleep?
We had to leave. We walked away from everythingโour home, our memories, the warmth of our life before. My children left behind their favorite toys, their books, their safe space. Now, we have nothing.
No home.
No food.
No clean water.
No way out.
I went to buy sugar the other day. It cost $20 for just a kilo. Food is disappearing, and the little that remains is impossible to afford. Every day, I fight to find just enough to keep my children alive.
I am exhausted. I am scared. I need your help.
I never imagined I would have to beg for my familyโs survival. But today, I am.
Please, if you are reading this, help us. Help me save my children. Help us find shelter, food, a way to rebuild even a small piece of the life we lost. If we ever have the chance to leave, we need support. If we are forced to stay, we need a home again.
Every donation matters. Every share helps. Every voice that speaks for us keeps hope alive.
๐ Please donate if you can. Share our story. Help us survive. ๐
โ๐๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ข๐ณ๐ฅ, ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ค๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ ๐ช๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด.โ
298 posts