Journalist, Supporting my family through a verified campaign (#219) by Nabulsi. https://chuffed.org/project/121006-save-sirajs-family-from-the-threat-of-the-gaza-genocide-war
The tent has become the worst thing the people of Gaza have experienced in this war—worse than displacement and hunger, even worse than loss itself. All of these experiences came and ended, but the tent has not ended. Its suffering, oppression, and pain have not ended. Its hardship continues, as does its cold in winter and flooding, and its scorching heat in summer.
This narrow space is used for sleeping, cooking, and even for relieving basic needs, yet it is not suitable for any of these purposes.
There is an urgent need today to secure simple materials to build a basic toilet inside or beside the tent, such as coverings, wooden boards, and insulation materials, in order to reduce this harsh situation and ensure a minimum level of human dignity.
Your support helps reduce the risk of diseases we are exposed to every day in these difficult conditions.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
We are living in tents that are not fit for human life rodents are everywhere, gnawing at everything: even children, food, blankets, clothes, and the tents themselves. There is nothing protecting us from these pests, and the situation is getting worse every day.
There are poisons to fight them, but they are extremely expensive and we cannot afford them. We need your support to help purchase them. The required amount is €250.
This is no longer just an inconvenience it has become a serious danger. A few days ago, a neighbor’s infant was harmed when a rat bit his face, a shocking incident that has left us all in fear.
We urgently need a solution before things get even worse. Your support today could help save a life.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
Please consider helping, or at least share this post so it can reach someone who can.
We are living in tents that are not fit for human life rodents are everywhere, gnawing at everything: even children, food, blankets, clothes, and the tents themselves. There is nothing protecting us from these pests, and the situation is getting worse every day.
There are poisons to fight them, but they are extremely expensive and we cannot afford them. We need your support to help purchase them. The required amount is €250.
This is no longer just an inconvenience it has become a serious danger. A few days ago, a neighbor’s infant was harmed when a rat bit his face, a shocking incident that has left us all in fear.
We urgently need a solution before things get even worse. Your support today could help save a life.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
Please consider helping, or at least share this post so it can reach someone who can.
It means losing one of the most valuable things a person can have in life: privacy. A thin piece of fabric separates you from the outside world—it does not block sound or provide real cover. You cannot speak, not even in a whisper, without being heard by neighbors and passersby.
It also means that even the most basic human needs become a source of distress. Going to relieve oneself is no longer a comfort, but an experience filled with embarrassment. Many people have even reduced their food and water intake just to avoid using the bathroom, which has led to illnesses that weaken their bodies and drain their strength.
Living in a tent means being constantly drenched in sweat, day and night. With the severe water shortages we face and the lack of cleaning supplies, skin diseases spread and suffering increases.
A tent is a place of illness, hardship, and oppression. I do not say this to spread despair, but we must not romanticize life in tents—it is, in many ways, a slow death. A tent can feel like a grave for the living.
As for my need today, it is something I feel shy to ask for: I need a 1000-liter water tank for the bathroom so that my family can meet their basic needs with dignity.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
It means losing one of the most valuable things a person can have in life: privacy. A thin piece of fabric separates you from the outside world—it does not block sound or provide real cover. You cannot speak, not even in a whisper, without being heard by neighbors and passersby.
It also means that even the most basic human needs become a source of distress. Going to relieve oneself is no longer a comfort, but an experience filled with embarrassment. Many people have even reduced their food and water intake just to avoid using the bathroom, which has led to illnesses that weaken their bodies and drain their strength.
Living in a tent means being constantly drenched in sweat, day and night. With the severe water shortages we face and the lack of cleaning supplies, skin diseases spread and suffering increases.
A tent is a place of illness, hardship, and oppression. I do not say this to spread despair, but we must not romanticize life in tents—it is, in many ways, a slow death. A tent can feel like a grave for the living.
As for my need today, it is something I feel shy to ask for: I need a 1000-liter water tank for the bathroom so that my family can meet their basic needs with dignity.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
It is not easy for me to write these words but what is even harder is to remain silent.
The past period has been one of the most difficult we have ever endured.
The closure of the bank account linked to the campaign was not a small obstacle it prevented us from accessing the funds that were sent during the last month, leaving us unable to meet even our most basic needs.
Thankfully, the issue was resolved today, and the campaign has now been connected to a new bank account. But the damage from that time still weighs heavily on us.
We are now facing a real and urgent danger.
There is a virus spreading along with severe cold waves, and my children have fallen ill…
My son, Amir, in particular, is suffering badly and urgently needs treatment. I am standing here helpless, unable to afford the cost of his care. There is no pain greater than watching your child suffer while you can do nothing to help.
With the holiday approaching, what should be a time of joy has become a source of pain
because I cannot even provide my children with new clothes for the occasion.
This is not just words this is the reality we are living every moment.
And all of this has been a direct result of the bank account closure and the lack of support for the campaign during the past period.
Today, I am not asking gently I am asking for urgent help.
Time is not on our side, and this situation cannot be delayed any longer.
Please, if you are able, donate now.
Any amount, no matter how small, could mean treatment for a sick child or a moment of happiness for a broken heart.
And if you cannot donate, please share this message
it might reach someone who can help.
Please do not let us reach a point where regret is too late
This is not the kind of post a mother wants to write
When I look at this picture, I see a child who should be allowed to enjoy a beautiful moment without fear or worry. But I am writing this because I need help providing basic essentials for my family.
I am sharing this because I want people to see him first, and to remember that behind every fundr@iser_ there is a real family trying to hold on.
If you can don@te_, thank you.
If you can’t, reblogging this post would still h_elp us.
This year, Ramadan is filled with tears and stained with memories. Around a table under a worn-out tent, survivors of war remember loved ones who have passed. Not a single table is without an empty seat a void left behind that can never be filled. ‘He used to sit here,’ ‘She loved this dish’ and so, we are full of memories and tears long before we are full of food.
Our suffering continues as we struggle to provide the basics for our family. Currently, our support campaign is very weak and barely reaching anyone. We urgently need your help to secure food and medicine for our children. Please, don't let us face this hunger and grief alone.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
This year, Ramadan is filled with tears and stained with memories. Around a table under a worn-out tent, survivors of war remember loved ones who have passed. Not a single table is without an empty seat a void left behind that can never be filled. ‘He used to sit here,’ ‘She loved this dish’ and so, we are full of memories and tears long before we are full of food.
Our suffering continues as we struggle to provide the basics for our family. Currently, our support campaign is very weak and barely reaching anyone. We urgently need your help to secure food and medicine for our children. Please, don't let us face this hunger and grief alone.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
Two Ramadans have passed us by, heavier than hearts can bear. Ramadans where balconies were not lit with lanterns, but the sky was ablaze with inextinguishable fires. We did not hear the cannons of Iftar, but the cannons of death.
Killing and displacement, homelessness without shelter, hunger that knocks on intestines before doors, a thirst as dry as children’s throats, and blood that reached the earth before the water of Wudu.
Ramadans we prayed in haste, broke our fast on fear, and slept on a grief that never rests. This is the Ramadan we hope will be different... that it passes without shelling to terrify our Suhoor, without hunger to spoil the joy of Iftar, and without the news of a martyr to extinguish a home’s lamp.
We pray for a Ramadan of tranquility, not of ruin and exhaustion; of fullness, not of queues; and of safety, not of graves. O Allah, let us reach Ramadan without losing anyone, and without losing a homeland. Make it a month of mending after brokenness, and relief after a long wait."
In the last two days here, Gaza has witnessed more than one death from a heart attack; the person is normal, does not show any signs of illness, eats, drinks and talks, then suddenly we hear the news of his death. I am not surprised and will not be surprised by these news; for the people of Gaza are suppressing within themselves volcanoes boiling with oppression, sadness and pain, and no one knows what is in their hearts except God. So, O God, grant peace to the hearts of the people of Gaza, comfort to their souls, and compensate them, O Generous One.
🛑The Flu is Crushing Us, and I’m Powerless to Save My Wife🥹
My wife is suffering from severe pain due to the flu spreading in Gaza, and I am unable to provide her with the medicine she urgently needs medicines here are scarce and very expensive.
The pain she’s experiencing is intenseوher body has been completely weakened and confined to bed. This harsh cold doesn’t just pass through the body; it digs in, leaving unbearable pain and suffering.
If this is what the cold does to us, imagine the harshness faced by children, the sick, and the elderly. This freezing cold has already taken the breath of 9 children
I appeal to anyone who can help provide support to get medicine for my wife through my donation campaign link.
My name is Osama Radwan and I raise money for my friend Siraj, a former journalist from Gaza who lost his job at the beginning of the war, h
The sky is raining now, and the wind is so strong that it is tearing down the tents and scattering them, throwing our belongings in every direction, and scattering everything our eyes see in front of us. There is one thing that the wind has not been able to tear down: this sadness that is sitting on our chests and souls, this intense fear of the rain, of the wind itself, of everything that surrounds us.
Approximately five deaths were caused by the collapse of dilapidated buildings, or by tents being blown away, or by stones and walls falling on the tents on this night alone... This is the situation.
The sky is raining now, and the wind is so strong that it is tearing down the tents and scattering them, throwing our belongings in every direction, and scattering everything our eyes see in front of us. There is one thing that the wind has not been able to tear down: this sadness that is sitting on our chests and souls, this intense fear of the rain, of the wind itself, of everything that surrounds us.
