Imagine waking up every morning to the sound of explosions, the walls of your home shaking, and the cries of your hungry children piercing the air.
@tahreer1
Story written by @rumiandroses
This is the reality for Tahrir, a mother of four from Gaza, whose life was forever changed on October 7, 2023, when war turned her world into a nightmare.
Before the war, Tahrir’s life was peaceful. She had completed her university studies in computer information systems and worked at a university and in local municipalities. Her children played freely, and her family enjoyed simple pleasures—walks through the streets, meals shared in the warmth of their home, the security of normalcy. But in a single day, that life was stolen.
The war severed communication between Tahrir and her loved ones, tearing their families apart. Tahrir and her husband lived in one governorate, while her extended family was trapped in another, with no way to know if they were alive. Anxiety consumed her as bombings became relentless, reducing homes to rubble and claiming lives by the minute.
As food supplies dwindled, hunger gnawed at their stomachs. Tahrir’s husband ventured out in the dead of night, dodging airstrikes, just to find bread for their children. Water became a luxury, and they resorted to cooking over open flames as gas supplies were cut off. The price of firewood soared, making even this desperate measure unsustainable.
For two months, they suffered in silence, their bodies growing weak and emaciated. Then, one day, the radio brought news that shook her to her core—her family’s governorate had been ordered to evacuate. The uncertainty was unbearable. Were they alive? Had they made it? When she learned that they had been displaced near her, she ran from her home for the first time in months, only to be met with the horrific sight of destruction everywhere. Buildings lay in ruins, streets were filled with debris, and an eerie silence hung over what was once a bustling city.
But their ordeal was far from over. Displacement became their new reality. One order after another forced them from shelter to shelter, each location proving just as dangerous as the last. Their home was gone, erased from existence. They moved into a tent, barely more than a tattered cloth, offering no protection from the elements.
When winter arrived, the situation became catastrophic. Their meager shelter was no match for the relentless rain. Mattresses were soaked, belongings ruined, and worst of all, her children fell sick. The freezing temperatures led to severe chest infections, but with medical supplies nearly nonexistent, there was no way to treat them.
Even as talks of a ceasefire circulated, Tahrir and her family knew that survival was still a battle.
"What kind of life are we still living?" she asked. "We are still in tents, suffering from the cold, from disease, from hunger, from the fear of breaking the truce, from everything."
Her children need food, warmth, and security. They need to live like children, free from fear and suffering. "Please do not forget my children," she pleads. "Every donation means life. It means rebuilding what was destroyed."
Tahrir’s story is one of unimaginable hardship, but also of resilience. She is not asking for comfort, only survival. If you can, please donate. If you cannot, share her story. Because no mother should have to watch her children starve, and no child should have to grow up knowing only war.
You can donate to Tahrir's family fundraiser [HERE].
