<div><strong>What would you do if your newborn had never tasted milk?</strong>
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<div>What if your daughter looked into your eyes and asked for a sip of clean water… and you had nothing to give?
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<div>This isn’t a scene from history. <strong><em>This is my life — right now.</em></strong>
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<div>My name is <strong>Eman</strong>, a mother of two little ones — <strong>Kinaz</strong> and <strong>Kinan</strong>. I live with my husband <strong>Mohamed</strong> in Gaza.
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<div>Before the war, we had a warm home, filled with love, laughter, and simple dreams. We only wanted to raise our children in safety and dignity.
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<div><strong><em>But everything was stolen from us.</em></strong>
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<div>When the war began, our home was destroyed. We lost everything — our shelter, our stability, our peace. Since then, we’ve been living on the streets, constantly on the run, carrying our children through danger, fear, and exhaustion.
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<div>Just one week before the war, I gave birth to my son <strong>Kinan</strong>. Like any mother, I needed rest, food, and care after giving birth, but instead, I was forced to run for my life, holding my newborn in my arms with no roof, no food, and no peace.
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<div>We’ve been displaced again and again — from Rafah to Al-Mawasi, Khan Younis, Nuseirat.  We sleep in tents with no protection from the burning heat or the freezing cold. <strong>No clean water. No electricity. Not even the basics of human life.</strong>
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<div>Can you imagine?  
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<div><strong>My baby Kinan has never eaten an egg?</strong>
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<div><strong>He doesn’t know the taste of milk.</strong>
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<div>He is growing up in a warzone, in hunger, in dirt, in fear. He doesn’t cry for toys — he cries for a piece of dry bread.
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<div>My daughter Kinaz suffers from a rare skin allergy that affects only 1% of children. The unbearable conditions in the tents — the heat, the dust, the stress — have made her skin flare up constantly. I can’t even find basic creams to relieve her pain.
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<div><strong><em>But what breaks me most…!!</em></strong>
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<div>Is when <strong>Kinaz looks into my eyes and says: “Mom, when will I drink milk again?”</strong>
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<div>And I have no answer to give her.
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<div>One day, we were trapped under heavy bombing in Hamad.
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<div>We couldn't escape. We were surrounded by flames. I held my children as we cried together,  watching bodies and blood fill the streets.
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<div>Gaza has become a graveyard for childhood. Food is a dream. Flour is rare. Water is dirty. Medicine is almost nonexistent.
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<div><strong>I’m not asking for luxury.</strong> I’m not even asking for comfort. I’m begging for survival.
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<div><strong>We need your help — now more than ever.</strong>
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<div>Every day is a fight for survival. My children are growing up without food, without safety, without hope. We can’t do this alone.
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<div><strong><em>We need your support to buy food, clean water, medicine, and one day, a way out of this nightmare.</em></strong>
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<div>Please, if you’re reading this, don’t look away.
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<div>Even a small act of kindness can be a lifeline for my family.
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<div>Please, help me give my children the basics they need to stay alive.
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<div>Help us escape this nightmare — to any place where they can simply eat, sleep, and live.
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<div>Every donation, no matter how small, could save <strong>Kinan</strong> and <strong>Kinaz</strong>.
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<div>Every share could reach someone who can make a difference.
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<div>From my broken heart to yours,
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<div><strong>Please don’t leave us behind.</strong>
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Help Mohammed & Iman’s Family Survive Gaza

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