🌿 My Name Is Rola, And This Is My Story 🌿

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

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Hammad Provide For His Family, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Ahmed H… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Ahmed Hammad Prov

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Hammad Provide For His Family, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Ahmed H… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Ahmed Hammad Prov

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

Verified : @90-ghost

Vetted by @bilal-salah0

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

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#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

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Remember to click to send aid to Palestine today!

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Help Palestinian refugees with a Click

Please help deliver support to Palestinian families; all you have to do is to click once a day for free, every day!

🚨 This isn't a plea. This is the cry of a mother being torn apart.

This is what it looks like... when a child dies, not from disease, but from poverty.

My child isn't treated.

He isn't held.

He's tortured—slowly and silently—and I watch.

He no longer cries. He chokes.

His lips are blue. His eyes are dull.

His chest barely rises, as if every breath is a war.

And I, his mother, stand here... completely useless.

They told me:

"Pay now, or take him to die."

They said it coldly. Without hesitation. Without heart.

As if my child isn't a life...just a number on a bill.

My child isn't dying from disease.

He dies because we are poor.

And the world is merciless to the poor.

Can you imagine watching your child vanish, knowing that he could be saved—if only you had the money?

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.

❌ No surgery

❌ No oxygen

❌ No time

❌ Nothing... except God... and maybe... you

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.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Hammad Provide For His Family, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Ahmed H… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Ahmed Hammad Prov

I'm a mother who's silently collapsing...I don't want to bury my child in a graveWhen he can still laugh... run... say "Mama"- if only we could keep him alive.

Verified : @90-ghost

Verified:@bilal-salah0

Vetted by: @gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #576 )

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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.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help support Muhammad and his family in Khan Yunis, organized by Alexandra Beck

Hi, my name is Alex, and I'm raising funds on behalf of Muhammad in … Alexandra Beck needs your support for Help support Muhammad and his fa

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.

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

NOOOOO ITS ALL BECAUSE OF THAT EMO BAND MEME 😭

Save our lives 🚨🚨

“Every day I lose my beautiful days… and I die in this war.” 😭💔

I'm not okay.

I don't sleep, I don't eat, I don't breathe like other people do.

I just count what's left of me... and wait.

Will I die today? 😭

Will a missile fall on me and end this pain once and for all?

Will I lose my son, still swimming in my belly, searching for a beating heart, a small dream, a chance to survive?

But I have nothing for him… no milk, no roof, no safety… only my fear. 💔

Yesterday, I saw in my dream a child reaching out his hand to me, saying, "Mom, save me."

I woke up screaming...

But no one heard me.💔

I buried my brothers with my own hands, I washed my mother with my tears, I saw my father burning and I couldn't put out the fire. Today, I'm waiting for my turn. 😭💔

There's no room in my body for bullets, but war resides in my eyes, in my womb, in my silence, in every heartbeat I hear from inside my belly. Even hope no longer visits me, even prayer has become faint. 💔

Please...

Help me before I become another silence on this weary earth.

Help me before this child loses his mother... just as I lost everything.

Chuffed

Help Asmaa evacuate her family and treat her husband abroad

I am Michelle from Greece, and I am running a campaign for Asmaa. Please consider donating if you can to help them.

Also, my husband is between life and death and I am helpless 💔

I am the wife of a man who was never just a husband… He was my support, my hope, and my everything in this cruel world. And today, as I write these words, my heart breaks for him as he battles his illness without medicine, without a hospital bed, and without even the reassurance of peace.

My husband has severe pneumonia, and hepatitis is eating away at his body day after day. His ability to breathe is no longer what it used to be, and his chest pain wakes him up terrified. As for me, all I can do is wipe away his sweat and hide my tears.😭

I watch my loved one wither away in front of me, and I don't have the money, the support, or even a safe place to rest my head. We count his breaths in prayer, hoping he'll hold on for another day... that someone will come... that someone will hear us. 💔😭

I appeal to those with compassionate hearts, those who have the ability to help, do not delay. A human life is in your hands, and my husband does not need much, just hope... just medicine... just a chance to live.

Share my campaign 🙏

Thank you 🤍

I keep forgetting to post a new meme sorry ya’ll ⚰️

“As immovable as fate, I hate it so.” WE FOUND ANOTHER ONE BOYS

The worst thing in the entire world is when you’re 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

🌿 My Name is Rola, and This is My Story 🌿

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 shattered—windows blown out, doors ripped from their hinges. And when I looked outside, our neighbor’s 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 everything—our 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 family’s 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.

💚 Please donate if you can. Share our story. Help us survive. 💚

gofundme.com

Donate to From Despair to Hope: Help us to rebuild our life., organized by Fatima Rajwani

Hi I am Fatima and live in London UK. I have known Rola now for appr… Fatima Rajwani needs your support for From Despair to Hope: Help us to