Help my family 🩸
My name is Hejer, and I am from the Gaza Strip. Before the war, I lived with my family in relative stability despite the challenges surrounding us. I was studying Doctor of Pharmacy, and my three siblings were also university students. We all had big dreams and worked hard to achieve them. My father was the sole provider for our family, and despite our limited income, he managed to cover our education expenses and basic needs.
But on October 7th, our lives were turned upside down. We woke up to the sounds of bombings, destruction, and bloodshed filling our streets. There was no time to process what was happening; we were only searching for safety—but in Gaza, there was no safe place.
In the early days of the war, we lost access to basic necessities. Water was cut off, food became scarce, and our education, which we had worked so hard for, suddenly felt like a distant dream. My father, who had always provided for us, could no longer do so as he lost his source of income amid the chaos.
As the bombings intensified, we had no choice but to flee. We grabbed whatever little we could carry and left under the terrifying sounds of explosions and gunfire, walking with no clear destination—just searching for shelter. We moved from one place to another, from one house to a shelter, and then to tents that could not protect us from the cold of winter or the scorching summer heat.
We tried to hold on, but the conditions only worsened. There was no more education, no normal life—only fear and survival.
After months of displacement and suffering, we attempted to return to our home, only to find it completely destroyed. We no longer had a roof over our heads, no place to call home. The infrastructure was wiped out, water was inaccessible, electricity was nonexistent, and life as we knew it had disappeared.
Now, we are trying to survive amidst skyrocketing prices and extreme shortages. We do not have enough money to buy even the most basic necessities. I do not know if I will ever be able to continue my education, nor do I know how my siblings will complete theirs. I do not know how we will rebuild our lives in the middle of this devastation.
Today, we are searching for a glimmer of hope, a chance for a dignified life, a helping hand to lift us from this suffering. We do not ask for much—just the opportunity to live, to continue our education, to have a normal life like everyone else.
Please, do not abandon us in this pain. Do not deprive us of your support, for hope is the only thing we have left.
(I was requested by one of the people in this campaign https://chuffed.org/project/117988-donate-to-help-abed-family-servive-gaza-genocide ,