My name is Fatma Al-Hasham I am 33 years old, married and a mother of four children. Three beautiful girls, the fourth is my hero Sami. I live in my beloved city, which is currently afflicted (Gaza). Our greatest achievement, my husband and I, was establishing and furnishing a small, warm house in which we live on rent. We chose its furniture carefully over 12 years of love. We built many dreams to raise children and providing for their needs as much as possible. My utmost ambition was to get a job, which I could not get after studying two university majors in Business Administration, English Department, and Journalism. Since I graduated in 2013 due to the unstable conditions in my country, I wanted it only to support my husband in providing a decent life for my wonderful family. I worked as a volunteer in many service fields in different places, especially with institutions concerned with children care.

In the previous year, 2023, we registered my two eldest daughters in school and kindergarten. We carefully chose their uniforms and stationery with all joy and activity, and began an educational journey that lasted for a month that was not completed until the morning of October 7, 2023.

Time has stopped since that day, as if our lives stopped on that fateful day The sounds of missiles, shelling, and terror continued and did not stop. We experienced death at every moment and we emerged from the rubble and under fire. Entire residential blocks were destroyed on the heads of their residents around us until our house became remains of walls distorted by shells and bullets.

Unfortunately, we did not learn how to pack our homes into a bag. We left with only our summer clothes that we were wearing and fled to the south of Gaza City, to this unknown place where we had not known before. We moved from place to place and from house to tent without the minimum necessities of living, as there was no water or clothes. There was no electricity, no communications, no food, and not even a cover to suit when the winter weather and the cold nights became severe. We collected rainwater and transported the water in gallons so that we could wash our hands and clothes in the primitive way. We lit a fire to heat some of this water for bathing and for cooking our simple food from cans, We wandered through the almost empty markets again and again to find leftover clothes in the remaining stores We would buy some to keep us warm, or we would buy a simple toy for the children to forget the bitterness of war and horror. We were really trying to live a normal life in a completely unnatural situation. We received news that we had lost friends, relatives, and loved ones until we truly felt that the dead had rested and left us a long journey of torment in which we hope every day to reach an end to this hideous war.

Everyone who has children can imagine how I feel as a mother who imagines every moment that the next victim will be her or one of her children. I pray every minute that my children will not grow up without me or that I will live without someone’s embrace. I truly hope that they will not experience the feeling of loss or become lost. That was their childhood and the innocence that I raised them with. I try to maintain their psychological balance despite the sounds of rockets and missiles that we sleep and wake up to and live with all the time. Today, after nine months, we have become a family with nothing but our wishes to come together under the roof of one house and to live in peace and security without fear or displacement. I truly hope to save my children from this torment. I hope this war will end and we are complete without any deficiency. I hope to raise them, teach them, and restore previous life to them wich was never perfect, but we saw it as such with love and contentment.

Help me to rebuild our lives, to get out of the cycle of fighting and war, despite the difficulty. Help me to return my children to their educational journey, restore stability to them, and relieve them of suffering and psychological pressure. Help me to live with my family in peace and tranquility in a small, warm house. Help us to stand on our feet again.

If you cannot help me financially, please help me by publishing.

Remember, every dollar makes a difference.

I promise I will keep you fully updated with all the details later.

I don't know if I will survive to thank you later, but thanks from the bottom of my heart to everyone who cared and read my story.