save my family

My family is starving to death, I lost my child ،$50 does a miracle for my dying family https://chuffed.org/project/122624-donate-to-help-motaz-and-his-little-family-survive vetted by gazavetters (527)

[humanityjournalist]

I am a survivor of the genocide in Gaza.

My only child was killed in the war

Donate my family ! Here

I am Moataz, I work as a journalist in the field of humanitarian journalism, I tried to spread the humanitarian issues and solutions journalism, I escaped with my wife from death several times, my wife was seven months pregnant, there was no water or food, she was drinking sewage water, until she got blood poisoning that almost killed her, today I publish my story and ask for help even for just one meal worth $ 35 to save my family from the risk of starvation, I hope to find the appropriate way to collect $ 15,000 to leave the country of death forever! Please I don't want to lose hope, any help saves my family $ 25, $ 30 please save my family 💔🥹

Vetted by “Gazavetters527”

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[motaz09]

We appeal to you in all the languages ​​of the earth.

We appeal to you in all the languages ​​of the earth. We are visiting for the seventh time. There is no food, no water, and displacement. My family’s life is in danger. We need $340, the cost of displacement from death! Please, I lost my only child and I do not want to lose anyone from my family

Any help can do anything, shells are falling around us, please help me

DONATE HERE

vetted by Gazavetters " 527 "

Donate to help Motaz and his family survive

Hello, my name is Ash, I'm fundraising for my friend Motaz.  Motaz is a journalist living in Gaza who has frequently been displaced from hom

[motazpress]

When Life Turns into a Nightmare... A Journalist’s Story from Gaza

My name is Motaz. I am 30 years old, a journalist from Gaza. For years, I wrote about the suffering of others, telling their stories to the world. I never imagined that one day, I would write my own story like this. I was just a father, dreaming of a colorful room for my only child, promising him toys, books, and bedtime stories. I wanted to fill his life with colors and laughter. But in a single moment, all the colors faded. A deafening explosion... a piercing scream... and my world collapsed. I lost my only child. I held him in my arms as he slipped away, powerless to save him. Now, my wife lies weak on a thin mattress, her body ravaged by blood poisoning from bombs and toxic gases. Every day, I watch her suffer, unable to do anything but watch. My room is cold, empty. The books that once brought me comfort now haunt me with silence. The toy that was meant to bring my child joy now lies abandoned on the floor. We survive on stale bread and water. Every day is a battle against hunger, against despair, against death. I keep writing, hoping that maybe — just maybe — my words will reach someone’s heart. If you want to know more about my story and what we are enduring, please visit my page. Maybe a word, a prayer, a message... could bring a small light into this darkness.

[motazpress]

When Life Turns into a Nightmare... A Journalist’s Story from Gaza

Hello, my name is Motaz. I am a 30 years old journalist from Gaza. I am married, my wife’s name is Huda.

For years, I wrote about the suffering of others, telling their stories to the world. I never imagined that one day, I would write my own story like this.

In last January, I was about to become a father, I was dreaming of a colorful room for my firstborn son, promising him toys, books, and bedtime stories. I wanted to fill his life with colors and laughter.

But…. In the blink of an eye… my dreams were demolished. My son, my firstborn child, my only child, died in childbirth. I was powerless to save him. That feeling of powerlessness follows me to this day.

Now, my wife is extremely sick. Most of the time she lays on a thin mattress, unable to do most things. Every day, I watch her suffer, unable to do anything but watch. Once again, I am powerless to save someone I love.

My room is cold, empty.

The books that once brought me comfort now haunt me with silence. The toy that was meant to bring my child joy now lies abandoned on the floor.

We survive on stale bread and water. We struggle with a lack of basic necessities, such as healthy meals, medical treatment and proper warm shelter. Every day is a fight for survival.

I keep writing, hoping that maybe — just maybe — my words will reach someone’s heart.

If you want to know more about my story and what we are enduring, please visit my page.

Maybe a word, a prayer, a message... could bring a small light into this darkness.