In Gaza, the arrival of an aid truck doesn’t end hunger—it begins a new danger. Fixed distribution points become death zones, where trucks open under gunfire, and people fall—dead or wounded—for seeking a loaf of bread or a sack of flour.
Massive crowds, feet crushed, mothers screaming, and children who don’t understand why food here costs a life. We don’t just live on the edge of famine—we live inside it.
Every day, we go out searching for a meal, not knowing if we’ll return with food or be carried back as bodies.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Help us reach a safe place—where hunger isn't punished by death. If you can't donate, please share our story. Maybe there are hearts in this world still willing to listen.
In Gaza, the arrival of an aid truck doesn’t end hunger—it begins a new danger. Fixed distribution points become death zones, where trucks open under gunfire, and people fall—dead or wounded—for seeking a loaf of bread or a sack of flour.
Massive crowds, feet crushed, mothers screaming, and children who don’t understand why food here costs a life. We don’t just live on the edge of famine—we live inside it.
Every day, we go out searching for a meal, not knowing if we’ll return with food or be carried back as bodies.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Help us reach a safe place—where hunger isn't punished by death. If you can't donate, please share our story. Maybe there are hearts in this world still willing to listen.
In Gaza, the arrival of an aid truck doesn’t end hunger—it begins a new danger. Fixed distribution points become death zones, where trucks open under gunfire, and people fall—dead or wounded—for seeking a loaf of bread or a sack of flour.
Massive crowds, feet crushed, mothers screaming, and children who don’t understand why food here costs a life. We don’t just live on the edge of famine—we live inside it.
Every day, we go out searching for a meal, not knowing if we’ll return with food or be carried back as bodies.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Help us reach a safe place—where hunger isn't punished by death. If you can't donate, please share our story. Maybe there are hearts in this world still willing to listen.
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
In Gaza, the arrival of an aid truck doesn’t end hunger—it begins a new danger. Fixed distribution points become death zones, where trucks open under gunfire, and people fall—dead or wounded—for seeking a loaf of bread or a sack of flour.
Massive crowds, feet crushed, mothers screaming, and children who don’t understand why food here costs a life. We don’t just live on the edge of famine—we live inside it.
Every day, we go out searching for a meal, not knowing if we’ll return with food or be carried back as bodies.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Help us reach a safe place—where hunger isn't punished by death. If you can't donate, please share our story. Maybe there are hearts in this world still willing to listen.
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
In Gaza, the arrival of an aid truck doesn’t end hunger—it begins a new danger. Fixed distribution points become death zones, where trucks open under gunfire, and people fall—dead or wounded—for seeking a loaf of bread or a sack of flour.
Massive crowds, feet crushed, mothers screaming, and children who don’t understand why food here costs a life. We don’t just live on the edge of famine—we live inside it.
Every day, we go out searching for a meal, not knowing if we’ll return with food or be carried back as bodies.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Help us reach a safe place—where hunger isn't punished by death. If you can't donate, please share our story. Maybe there are hearts in this world still willing to listen.
Breathing Through the Heat: A Father’s Plea from Gaza
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Since we were forced to flee our home, my family and I have been living under a torn tent, in unbearable humidity and total darkness. My two-month-old daughter, "Wad", cannot sleep. I stay awake all night, fanning her tiny body with a piece of cardboard, trying to help her breathe in the heavy, suffocating air.
There’s no electricity. No fan. No clean water. The heat is relentless, the air thick, and every night feels like a battle for survival.
We didn’t choose this life. We’re just trying to survive it.
Your support—whether through donation or by sharing this story—can help us breathe, live, and hope again.
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
This is how my family has come to live – a life resembling hell – in displacement camps.
My family now endures a life full of misery and suffering after the war destroyed our simple home, a home once filled with beautiful memories.Today, they live in a tent that looks like a tiny, closed-off spot, isolated from everything. A shattered life that carries nothing of its name — constant sorrow and relentless pain surround them. Even the pieces of fabric forming the tent seem to speak, telling a new chapter in a book titled “The Tragedy in the Land of Pain and Sorrows.”
One look into my mother’s eyes, and you’d see that the weight of the world has fallen upon her. It’s as if life itself has turned against my family — taking away my father, who was their pillar of strength and support, and snatching away my niece and my brother’s daughter in the most brutal way, with no reason or mercy.
But that wasn’t the end. Life’s cruelty didn’t stop there. It didn’t show the slightest compassion for what remained of my family — instead, it destroyed the only home we had left, the place that held all our shared memories.
Now, they are displaced in camps that offer no mercy and lack even the most basic necessities of life. There’s no privacy. The world turned dark before their eyes when they found themselves homeless, wrapping themselves in hardship by day and sipping bitterness by night.
They suffer the harshness of life, living under the burning sun, with nothing to shield them but piles of scrap. This has become their daily routine — waking up early to stand in long lines just to get a little water, then setting out to find a bite to eat. And when night falls — a time meant for rest — life continues its torment. Even sleep evades them, and they wish they could keep one eye open, fearing a rodent’s attack or something worse…
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
This is only a part of what my family endures in displacement camps — extreme hardship and a tragic reality with no equal.
This is how my family has come to live — a life resembling hell — in displacement camps.
My family now lives a life full of misery and suffering after the war destroyed their simple home that was filled with beautiful memories. Yes, now they live in a tent that seems like a small, enclosed patch, cut off from everything. A torn life, bearing nothing of its name. Constant sorrow and pain strike them over and over again. Even the fabric walls of the tent speak, telling a new chapter of a book titled “Tragedy in the Land of Pain and Sorrows.”
When you look into my mother’s eyes, it’s as if the weight of the world has been placed upon her. As though life itself has conspired against my family — stripping them of my father, their pillar of strength and support, and taking the lives of my niece and my sister’s daughter in the most brutal way, without reason.
Despite all this, hardship did not stop there. It showed no mercy to what remained of my family — it went on to destroy their home, the place that once united us and held all our simple memories.
Now, they are displaced, living in camps that offer no mercy and fail to provide even the most basic necessities of life. Camps without privacy, where the world darkened in their eyes the moment they found themselves homeless, exposed to suffering in all forms — sometimes wrapped in hardship, other times sipping from the cup of misery.
They endure the cruelty of life, living under the scorching sun with nothing to protect them but a pile of scrap. This has become their daily routine: waking up to stand in long lines just to get a small amount of water, then searching tirelessly for a morsel of food. And when night falls — a time that’s supposed to bring rest — it instead brings more suffering. Life seems to have written pain into every line of their existence. They go to sleep wishing they could keep one eye open, fearing an attack from rats or worse.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
This is just a glimpse of the suffering my family endures in the displacement camps — a life of unbearable hardship and a tragic situation like no other.
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
Red shows the area of the Gaza Strip controlled by Israeli tanks. Green shows the area controlled by warplanes, reconnaissance aircraft, and quadcopters. The entire Gaza Strip is under one of the most violent wars of the century.
Save what's left of us, even with a little support so we and our family can survive the genocide🙏.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
This is how my family has come to live — a life resembling hell — in displacement camps.
My family now lives a life full of misery and suffering after the war destroyed their simple home that was filled with beautiful memories. Yes, now they live in a tent that seems like a small, enclosed patch, cut off from everything. A torn life, bearing nothing of its name. Constant sorrow and pain strike them over and over again. Even the fabric walls of the tent speak, telling a new chapter of a book titled “Tragedy in the Land of Pain and Sorrows.”
When you look into my mother’s eyes, it’s as if the weight of the world has been placed upon her. As though life itself has conspired against my family — stripping them of my father, their pillar of strength and support, and taking the lives of my niece and my sister’s daughter in the most brutal way, without reason.
Despite all this, hardship did not stop there. It showed no mercy to what remained of my family — it went on to destroy their home, the place that once united us and held all our simple memories.
Now, they are displaced, living in camps that offer no mercy and fail to provide even the most basic necessities of life. Camps without privacy, where the world darkened in their eyes the moment they found themselves homeless, exposed to suffering in all forms — sometimes wrapped in hardship, other times sipping from the cup of misery.
They endure the cruelty of life, living under the scorching sun with nothing to protect them but a pile of scrap. This has become their daily routine: waking up to stand in long lines just to get a small amount of water, then searching tirelessly for a morsel of food. And when night falls — a time that’s supposed to bring rest — it instead brings more suffering. Life seems to have written pain into every line of their existence. They go to sleep wishing they could keep one eye open, fearing an attack from rats or worse.
We Were Not Made of Stone... But War Treats Us Like We Have No Hearts
"My d… Fadi Saleh needs your support for A House Of Rubble... And
This is just a glimpse of the suffering my family endures in the displacement camps — a life of unbearable hardship and a tragic situation like no other.
