Palestinian from Gaza | 34 | Married | a home interior designer, but I lost my profession. I hope you will support me and my wife through the donation link to start over.
Imagine spending your day waiting for a piece of bread to satisfy your hunger and feed your family.
I am doing my best to save my wife who recently miscarried due to malnutrition.
This is not a scene from a painful story; it is our daily reality in light of the closure of crossings and the prevention of aid imports.
It is a policy of starvation that is slowly suffocating us, making war seem trivial compared to the pangs of hunger and the crushing sense of helplessness.
Please help me secure food for my family before it runs out.😔💔
Today marks the third day of our weekly activity with the children.
I had previously shared an update, accompanied by photos, from the first day of this event through GoFundMe.. and now, our friend Ahmad Ibsais has also shared my story, specifically about this activity.
And I thank him for this beautiful gesture so that the world may see that we are trying, and still trying, to live despite all that we are enduring.
In short, we are like a miracle creating life out of death.
And this is the very mystery that infuriates them a thought I had mentioned before in my writings, if you’ve been following them regularly…
Today, we did not open the F* aid bags in search of food we opened them to create something that resembles life… or what’s left of it.
Do you know what we did?
From the sacks of death you sent us in the name of ((relief)) !!!!
we built homes out of imagination shelters from the remnants of humiliation, roofs patched with crumbs of hope.. and walls that shield us not from bombardment.. but from breaking apart on the inside.
We tore those bags apart not to take what’s inside,
but to reject what they stand for.
We no longer want the scraps of your charity wrapped in pity,
nor the aid that falls on us like bombs soulless and stripped of dignity.
We do not need your food that tastes of humiliation,
nor your flour laced with plastic and mold.
What we need is a homeland. 𓂆 🇵🇸
What we long for is peace. ☮️
What we deserve is safety. 🫂
We are not begging for life.
We are demanding it in full the dignity to live, a sky that does not terrify us,
and a land that does not swallow our children.
These bags you drop from the skies do not feed hunger they deepen disgrace.
So keep your aid huh!!!
if it does not come with dignity, justice, and rights.
Give us a homeland… and we will build life within it.
Leave us alone, filthy world.
We will continue to resist Even the children who infuriate you will resist you.
And generation after generation, until PALESTINE IS FREE. 𓂆 ✌️
___________________________
My plan was to leave Gaza in search of survival to escape and preserve my life.
But the closure of the crossings changed everything, forcing me to reconsider my choices deeply.
That’s when I realized that I couldn’t abandon my homeland,
couldn’t turn my back on it and leave it behind.
In fact, I once wrote an article about that titled: “I Will Not Say Goodbye to This Land.”
Anyway…
I thought long and hard…
And I came to understand that my life is not more precious than the lives of those children the children of my devastated city,
who fall apart into pieces before my eyes every single day.
So instead of leaving, I chose to stay.
To offer whatever I can within my field of work,
alongside my eldest brother an art education teacher in an effort to ease the pain we live with in Gaza, especially the suffering endured by persecuted children.
I found that I'm able even with simple means to draw a few smiles on their faces,
through sports and artistic recreational activities
that offer them a small window of escape from their pain, and give us all a moment to breathe amid all this rubble.
Today marked our third activity.
We regularly dedicate an entire week to the children,
giving them the space to express themselves freely,
to release what has built up in their small chests
from the constant pressure of fear, hunger, bombings, and relentless death.
We begin with light physical exercises that’s my role now.
We play energetically, shout together at the top of our lungs, sing national songs,
and then move on to art sessions and handicrafts of all kinds that’s now my brother’s part.
Believe me… the joy I feel in those moments is indescribable.
It’s not just the children who enjoy it I, too, feel overwhelming happiness.
I don’t know… maybe there’s still a child inside me struggling to survive,
and this war has stripped us of our childhoods,
adding years to our age,
and tons of grief to our hearts.
Here are the details of this beautiful day, written in the article I prepared this afternoon.
And tomorrow InshaAllah will be even better.
________________________
90% of these children had their homes bombed by the Israeli occupation.
They were deprived of their rooms, their beds, their toys, their school bags, notebooks, and colors... of the painted walls, the pictures, and the memories.
They were stripped of the simplest thing that gives a person a sense of safety a shelter.
Today, my brother Yasser (an art teacher) organized an activity for the neighborhood children and the displaced kids who had taken refuge on Abu Arif Street in Dair al Balah.
As usual, the children and I begin our activities with the most joyful physical exercises, small games, and fun competitions.
We run and play with all our energy, shout together, and sing national songs with enthusiasm.
We celebrate and plant moments of joy in our hearts despite everything around us.
After that, we move on to the drawing session,
where the children’s imaginations and colors are set free to create a world far more beautiful than the one they’re living in.
By the way, we hold these activities in my family’s humble garden...
It may not be perfect, but it’s far better than the heat of the tent.
For me, it’s enough that it offers the children a small space for comfort and joy.
He explained to them some basics of drawing proportions, texture, colors, shading, and more.
As always, I was there with him, helping with the art and craft activities. I immersed myself in watching the children and taking memorable photos of them.
Then he taught them how to draw a house from their imagination.
He named this activity: (A House from My Imagination)
And the children took off, soaring in their imagination, lost in their sketchbooks and colors.
All of them were skilled at drawing.. I was truly surprised by that.
The strange thing is, these children haven’t received any formal education in two, maybe even three years.
Yet I saw determination shining in their pupils, as if they were truly building real houses with their little hands.
I hope this foolish war ends soon, so we can return, rebuild our homes again,
and restore the beauty to our lives just as it once was… if not even more beautiful.
VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED ✅️ by @bilal-sala7 (#3)
I am raising funds for my friend in Gaza. This fund is to help he… Manar Ahmed needs your support for Help Shahad, Hassan, and their kittens
To everyone from around the world.. An important issue that the world must know about...
I just woke up to a question from my American friend asking about the issue of cash and money withdrawals and this is a matter that truly needs to be addressed.
Honestly, I believe that one single person is behind all this pressure we're experiencing here as citizens in Gaza.. And we have no doubt that this is the work of the occupation, aiming to intensify pressure on the population here more and more.
Take, for example, some of the cash denominations that were suddenly banned or (phased out) without warning. The (10shekel) note, for instance, caused a major disruption in the market.. And the old (100 shekel) note we used to trade with it normally, and suddenly it was canceled!
And now, they’re trying to cancel the (20 shekel) note as well!
Can you imagine?
There’s also new tightening regarding cash notes under the pretext that they’re “old” or their color is (faded) even though we used to use these very same notes before the war even when they were torn as long as the serial number was visible. Now suddenly, they’re no longer acceptable? What nonsense.
As I said, this is clearly a Zionist move.. The clearest proof is their refusal to mint new cash or open the banks. Can you imagine that we are still using the same physical money since the beginning of the war?
Where are we supposed to get new cash from?
As for the issue of cash withdrawal or as we now call it, buying money with money.. huh that’s what it has come to!
The situation here has deteriorated and worsened, especially regarding cash. Sellers have started refusing to accept payments through banking apps they now insist on cash only.
And in order to get cash, you have to buy it with money through cash commission traders.
These traders raise their commission rates constantly, and I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said the rates go up almost every hour.
Just two weeks ago, the commission was 45%. Now it has reached 52%!
In other words, the commission traders are not merely sharing our money they’re taking more than half, as if they’re giving us an allowance from our own funds!
I still see no logical reason for banning sales through the banking app.
Honestly, not a single shekel remains in my pocket.. so where are we expected to get all this cash from?
There are accumulating pressures weighing down on the poor Gazan citizen, layer upon layer, and I don’t know when or ifthey will ever end.!!!!
These are also critical issues that must be highlighted and shared, so the world can see just how vile, sick, and mentally deranged this Zionist occupier truly is.
Hey, It looks like they’re flooding the market with goods, probably trying to convince the world that Gaza is fine that food is available and prices have dropped. Like sugar, for example… it used to be 500 shekels per kilo, and overnight it dropped to 50. But the crazy part is, we haven’t even tasted sugar since April we couldn’t afford it in the first place.
It’s like they drained our pockets with insane prices and now suddenly they’re pumping the markets with supplies. The flour that was 100 shekels? Now it's 25. They even dropped the commission rate from 50% to 40%. And guess what? They’re now allowing foreign journalists in to film and show the world a “normal” situation.
But for us average families we’re seeing all these goods in front of us, but we still can’t afford to buy in bulk or store anything. We’re literally living day to day. Still, part of me feels like we need to take advantage of this brief window buy and store whatever we can because I think something bigger is coming.
I wouldn’t be surprised if, within the next 3 months, they evacuate everyone to Rafah and take over all of Gaza. We don’t know… maybe we’ll make it out alive, maybe some of us will get injured. What’s coming feels heavier. InshaAllah, we’ll all make it through safely. We’re holding our ground we’re not leaving unless they force us. I don’t want to repeat what happened the first time they pushed us south and made us feel worthless.
This is an extremely sensitive and dangerous time. Sadly, the only things really helping us survive are donations and prayers.
I am raising funds for my friend in Gaza. This fund is to help he… Manar Ahmed needs your support for Help Shahad, Hassan, and their kittens
VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)
Today, I buried my brother with my own hands.He was martyred because of receiving their damned aid. He died trying to secure a piece of bread for himself and the children.
He left us behind, alone in our pain… and left his children too. As if saying goodbye to my mother and father wasn't enough… now I have to say goodbye to my brother too.
This won't be too long. Not much happened during this stretch. My symptoms just increased in intensity. I was extremely lethargic. I hurt all of the time. I wasn't very capable of much useful thought.
I broke my fast on the evening of the 27th. I'm finished. I can't tell you how grateful I am to eat again. To be honest, I feel a little shame as well, but that's my personal hangup.
During this time, Israel has continued its genocide of the Palestinian people. Two of my friends in Palestine have had loved ones murdered by the fascist, Israeli regime. Two of these martyrs were murdered by a drone.
Food has come in for both of them but you must know, if you've followed events at all, that whatever is received does so at great personal risk. That whatever is received does not begin to address the nutritional needs of my friends, their families, or any of the people in Palestine.
This is intentional; this is the point.
Over the last month, the Israeli fascists and their (our) paid mercenaries have murdered more than 500 people they're charged to provide humanitarian aid to.
Children and the elderly have continued dying from hunger and exposure to the elements. It's a combination of the two factors that takes them.
Israel has also begun a war with Iran; the US saw fit to participate directly, bombing Iranian sites as well. The actions of the US and fascist, Israeli swine have brought embarrassment to both nations because they were unsuccessful. But, I only bring this up to point out that the media has used this as a distraction from the ongoing genocide.
Don't forget, I beg you. Don't get distracted.
Finally, I'm appealing to your shared sense of humanity. Could you please donate to my friend Shahad's GoFundMe? Her and her husband are seeking to flee Palestine. Thank you for your aid.
My cousin was martyred last week when he went to get a bag of flour. The artillery hit them, killing nearly 100 people. This isn't aid. They treat us like they're hunting rats.
I was saying we were living a nightmare... but it seems like a joke.
To this extent, our blood is cheap. Aren't we human beings?!
This is my cousin, a young man who is not yet twenty years old. He was killed by hunger.
Please, I don't want to lose my brother and my husband. We will buy flour even if it costs a million dollars, and not go to death. That's why I need your support.🫶🤦🏼♂️
VETTED by @gazavetters ✅️ (#502) & VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)
I am raising funds for my friend in Gaza. This fund is to help he… Manar Ahmed needs your support for Help Shahad, Hassan, and their kittens
Life here is always teetering on the edge of nothingness…! 💔
Today, I arrived at my family’s home in Dair Al Balah with my husband. Barely moments had passed since we stepped inside when a massive explosion thundered nearby. It was terrifyingly close... as if the earth itself shook beneath our feet as if we were living through a real earthquake.
But worse than the sound of the explosion were the shards that followed…
A tiny piece of shrapnel flew right past my young nephew.. the same child you might remember if you’ve followed my posts… the one who once cried over a piece of candy.
What a strange life this is.
A fragment so small it could be missed by the eye, yet it almost took his life. Only a few centimeters.. maybe even less.. separated it from his fragile body. I saw smoke rising from it… it was still burning, intensely hot, as if just one more degree would’ve melted it completely.
Hours later, I went out to take care of something, and by coincidence, I passed by the area that had been struck. I couldn’t believe what I saw. A place once full of life and people had become nothing but rubble. Complete destruction. A living, breathing heart silenced in an instant.
And the truly terrifying part?
This location was in the middle of a densely populated area.
Thankfully and by "Allah mercy" a warning had been issued beforehand. People had a moment, however brief, to escape. If not for that, the massacre would have been unimaginable.
We survived today… and many others did too.
But the chilling truth still hangs in the air:
Life here constantly sways on the edge of nothingness.
And do you want to know the strangest part?
Everyone tells us that coming back home is a foolish, even insane decision…
But I swear to you, there is no safe place in this entire strip.
We are all standing at the edge of the abyss
The abyss of farewell.
A farewell to a life that was never truly given to us as it should have been.
VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED ✅️ by @bilal-sala7 (#3)
I am raising funds for my friend in Gaza. This fund is to help he… Manar Ahmed needs your support for Help Shahad, Hassan, and their kittens
Yesterday we were able to bring a bag of flour from the aid trucks. My husband, brothers, neighbors’ children and everyone went. There is a mechanism of chaos carried out by the occupation army. It coordinates and contacts the truck owners and orders them to get out of the trucks in the middle of the street. People come and take what is inside them. There are bandits who come with weapons and finish off the trucks completely and do not let anyone take anything. Every time we do not get anything from our share, but this time we were lucky. My brothers did not bring anything, but it is enough. There is someone who was able to.. It’s My hero hahaha .. We are celebrating now in here hahaha .. YEAH, IT'S EID GENTLEMEN 😍✌️
I am currently distributing a little to other families who did not receive anything.. We share the livelihood and so on…
“The world must know the mechanism used by the occupation here in Gaza in distributing aid. That is why I am also publishing this on fb, Substack and Tumblr. They use all means of humiliation. 😑
VETTED by @gazavetters ✅️ (#502) & VETTEDby ✅️ @bilal-salah0 (#3)
“I just don’t get what the problem is, Harry. He’s leaving you alone, isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”
Is it? What he always wanted? He was always so focused on winning he never considered what he’d do when he actually won.
“I guess,” he mumbled, kicking at the grass as they stepped onto the quidditch pitch.
“Right. Then just leave it be. Come on, enough of your doom and gloom. I finally convinced enough eighth years to play a pick up game. You know how bad I’ve been itching to get back on the field again.” Ron chided, giving Harry a playful shove.
Harry grunted in response, shoving his hands in his pockets, earning him a deep eye roll from his best mate that he would’ve seen had he not been staring moodily at the grass. Ron sighed loudly, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.
“Well, if you keep moping like that, Malfoy’s definitely going to catch the snitch before you.”
Harry whipped his head so fast he nearly knocked off his glasses.
“Malfoy’s the other seeker?” He asked, eyes brightening and growing wide.
“Huh, did I forget to mention that?” Ron looked up towards the sky, thoughtfully tapping his chin.
For all that Malfoy had been ignoring him since their return to Hogwarts, his eyes were practically glued on Harry during the duration of the match. Harry took the opportunity to fake him out as much as possible, diving and twisting through the air as if to say catch me if you can. Malfoy, in turn gladly rose to the bait, speeding elegantly through the air, just barely on his tail. When Harry glanced over his shoulder, Malfoy shot him a smirk that seemed to say I could have you right now if I wanted to. Harry felt himself shiver, and nearly tumbled off his broom as he attempted to right himself.
If asked, either boy would have vehemently denied it, but each had noticed the golden glint of the snitch several times before actually making the dive to catch it. Neither seemed to want the game to end. Eventually, they couldn’t feign ignorance any longer, and thus the chase began. Malfoy no longer seemed to struggle to keep up, now shoulder to shoulder with Harry as they both reached for the snitch. Each seeker plummeted towards the ground without hesitation as their years of training kicked in, driving their bodies. Mere meters away from crashing, the two yanked up on their brooms, while simultaneously reaching out towards the fluttering snitch. Their heels skidded against the grass as their brooms leveled out their descent above the field, just as each boy grasped at the target, fingers grazing against each other. Finally, spurred forward by the momentum, the two of them collapsed in a heap.
They looked between each other, eyes locking, panting heavily, as the snitch wiggled sedately between their clutched hands. In the distance, they could hear the voices of the other players above them conversing amongst each other, sounding confused.
“Did you see who caught the snitch?”
“No, they were neck and neck the whole time.”
“Oi, Harry!” Ron shouted down to him. “Who won?”
Harry grinned, squeezing Draco’s hand and pulling him closer.
“We both did.” He mumbled happily, only audible enough for the two of them.
