After two long years of relentless war, all I can truly say is Alhamdulillah for the ceasefire and thank every person who stood with us. Some prayed for us, some sent a kind word, and some offered even the smallest act of help that kept our hope alive when everything else felt like it was fading.

I used to believe the worst part of war was the sound of the bombs, but I’ve learned that what comes after is even heavier. Returning to my neighborhood felt like stepping into a world I didn’t recognize. Not a single trace of our old life remained. No house, no door, no window. Only silent rubble, as if our memories were buried under the stones without a chance to say goodbye.

Today, we are living in tents with no protection from the cold nights or the harsh weather. Many times we wake up soaked because water leaks inside while we sleep. Life in the tents is not life at all. It is survival, day by day. The situation has become so severe that several children in the area have lost their lives due to the freezing temperatures and the unbearable conditions. Every night, we pray that our younger siblings make it to the morning.

The streets I walked since childhood felt foreign. The place that once carried the voices of neighbors, laughter, and ordinary life now resembles a graveyard without names. In losing my home, I feel like I lost a piece of myself, my identity, my history, and my sense of belonging.

There is no water, no electricity, no shelter, and no foundation to rebuild even the basics of living. Something as simple as water may take a month to reach our area. The ceasefire may have stopped the explosions, but inside, we are still bleeding in ways no one can see.

I am honestly embarrassed to ask for help again. Every sentence I write comes with a feeling of discomfort. If I had any other way or any strength left to fix this on my own, I would never burden anyone. If rebuilding a home with my bare hands were possible, I would do it without hesitation. But today, I am not asking for myself alone. I am asking for my family, who want nothing more than a safe place to stand, to sleep, and to simply exist.

This campaign is not just about rebuilding a house. It is about bringing my family back together under one roof. It is about restoring what was taken and creating a real chance to start life from zero, with a door to close, a floor to sleep on, and a place where new memories can grow.

We are not searching for the impossible. We are asking for a beginning, even a small one. Many homes around the world have been rebuilt one brick at a time. Many lives have risen again because someone extended a hand in a moment of pain.

Your contribution, even the smallest amount, can keep a family from being lost. You would not only be helping to rebuild walls but also giving warmth, safety, dignity, and a reason to hope again.

Despite everything, we still believe that from the ruins, light can rise, and maybe that light could be you.