"My Baby Under Fire: Born in War, Living in a Tent"

My name is Hamdan Abu Alayan, and I am not asking for much — just a chance to keep my children alive.

I am the father of three daughters. Renad is 6 years old, full of dreams and questions I can no longer answer. Wateen, only 2 and a half, clings to me when the bombs fall. And Elene, our newborn, came into this world under the terrifying sound of war, not the gentle voice of lullabies.

We had a home. It wasn't much, but it was safe. Warm. Ours. One night, everything changed. The sky exploded. Walls crumbled. I grabbed my girls and ran. We became displaced — just another family among thousands in Gaza, stripped of shelter, food, and even hope.

Now, we live in a tent. Every day is a fight to survive. There is barely enough food. Some nights, I go hungry so my daughters can eat. Clean water is scarce. Medicines? Almost impossible to find. My wife gave birth to Elene with no proper medical care — just pain, fear, and courage.

Renad asks me when we’ll go home. I look into her eyes, but I have no answer. Wateen wakes up crying from nightmares she’s too young to understand. Elene cries from hunger, cold, and maybe, the sadness in the air.

We are not just statistics. We are not just a headline. We are a family — human, vulnerable, and desperate for help.

I am not asking for comfort. I am asking for survival.

If you are reading this, please — help us. Help me feed my children. Help me give them warmth, safety, and a future.

From the bottom of my heart,

Hamdan Abu Alayan

Gaza, 2025