Hello, my name is Rola, and I am a mother of two children living in the Gaza Strip. Our lives were once filled with love, laughter, and dreams for the future. But everything changed on October 7th, when the war shattered not only our home but our entire world.
That morning, my family and I were enjoying coffee together on the balcony. Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, shaking our home violently. My husband and son ran for cover, falling over each other in panic, while I stood frozen, still holding my cup, unable to process the chaos around me. When I looked out the window, I saw that our neighbor’s house, once filled with life, had been reduced to rubble. Ambulances rushed to the scene as people scrambled to rescue the injured and pull bodies from the debris.
The bombings didn’t stop. At night, the rain poured heavily, and the cold seeped into our bones. I stayed awake, covering my children to keep them warm and praying for their safety. But safety is an illusion here. Another explosion shattered the night, and our neighbors’ home was destroyed. Their children, who had been sleeping peacefully under a blanket, were found lifeless, their cover soaked in blood.
I looked at my children with tears in my eyes and thought, How can I protect you? We had to flee our home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We left behind my children’s toys, their clothes, and their beautiful bedroom. Everything we had worked so hard to build is gone.
Our Current Reality Now, we are displaced and living in a nightmare. Food is scarce, and prices are unimaginably high—$10 for a kilo of sugar! The fear of death hangs over us constantly. My children deserve a life of joy and hope, not one defined by fear and loss. Why can’t we live like everyone else—go to work, visit family, and watch our children play in safety? Why do our children have to grow up surrounded by death and destruction?
How You Can Help I am pleading for your kindness to help us rebuild our lives. We need your support to: 💔 Rebuild our home, so my children can feel safe again. 🌍 Evacuate from Gaza, seeking a future where my family can live with dignity. 🩺 Provide urgent medical care for my children, who need protection from this nightmare.
Even the smallest donation can make a difference. If you can’t donate, please share my story. Every share brings us closer to hope.
What Your Support Means Your kindness is not just about helping us survive; it’s about giving us a chance to dream again. To rebuild what we’ve lost and to ensure my children have a future filled with possibilities, not fear.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Your support means the world to us. Let’s work together to rebuild hope, one step at a time.
🌸 Please share our story and consider donating today. 🌸
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
I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔
I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊
Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑
I’d love my son (if I could have one) but If my son wanted to be a cop I’d put a brain worm in him. I’d call him Copper(though his name would be Cooper). He would live his life to the fullest. Every birthday party would be police themed. I’d call him my little deputy. He’ll have his own little plastic badge. He’d go on ride a longs with fellow officers. His new step-dad would be the county sheriff. All of his friends are military geeks. He’d be beloved by the folks of the little town. A prodigy. He’d train to be the most jacked cop ever from a young age. I’d support his dream through and through. He’d graduate top of his class. He could take on anything. He wouldn’t know what the police have done. He’ll join the academy. The higher ups will think he’s all talk til they see his prowess. He’ll crush the police academy. He’ll work for 5 years. Flying colors. There would be a banquet. He’s getting promoted. Everyone’s there. His family, his friends, colleagues, the whole damn town. He’s asked to give a speech. His heart is racing. He says some greetings. For the first time in his life he’s nervous. He sees the girl he’s liked for a while in the crowd. His mother’s voice is in the back of his head, encouraging him. He blinks. He sees red. He’s so happy. He chokes. He ducks. He coughs. He opens his eyes. Bloody, dead all of them. Hole in the head, gun in his hand. He can’t believe what he sees. I’m the only other person there. I’m sitting calmly in the destruction. He runs to me and cries. For once he doesn’t know what’s happening or what to do. I tell him he killed them and that I made him do it. He acts like he didn’t hear me. I tell him to stand without moving my lips. I tell him what I made him. What was inside him all along. He has tears his eyes. Everything blurs. I explain every planned detail. Every little lie. But tell him the blood is on him. He screams that he hates me and could never forgive me. I tell him there’s two more bullets. He aims. He asks if this was part of the programming. Not exactly I say. I tell him my death would be the first choice he’s ever made. If he kills me he turns on himself. “But I don’t want to be your tool” he say stoically. The shot rings. I’m dead but my son knows now that he too shall be soon. His emotions are shot as his body moves on its own. None of it. He’s dead. He opens his eyes. He’s my little deputy, lying in his mother’s arms. My arms. She loves him. I love him.
Im 99% sure the context is that the original Overwatch was set to release three days from the original post. Overwatch is the same genre as TF2 (Class shooter) and was incredibly hyped on launch. So the creator of this meme assumes Overwatch would kill TF2.
Despite this, Overwatch never really overtook TF2. Since then, Overwatch 1 lost most ppl’s interest, and was eventually shuttered and replaced with OW2, which is a free-to-play predatory gacha game that, as I know it, is not doing very well. TF2, despite being practically abandoned by the developers and being about a decade older than OW1, has a much healthier playerbase.
tl;dr this is the Class Shooter version of “We popping the biggest bottles when Makorra happens tomorrow”, except with a much slower punchline.
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