My name is Osama. I am a husband, a father, and a survivor doing everything I can to keep my family alive in Gaza.
For the past 647 days, we have been living through unimaginable horror. Every day is a fight for survival. There is no safety. No steady food. No clean water. No income. And worst of all, no end in sight.
My children fall asleep hungry each night, their small bodies trembling from fear as bombs shake the ground around us. They wake up crying from nightmares, and I have no answers. I have no way to tell them that things will get better, because I don't know if they will.
We lost our home. We lost our jobs. We lost the simple joy of living without fear.
But I have not lost hope.
I’m turning to you to anyone reading this with a humble and urgent plea: Please help me provide food and basic needs for my family.
This isn’t just about survival. It’s about dignity. It’s about giving my children one more meal, one more safe night, one more reason to smile.
I never imagined I would have to ask strangers for help. But right now, kindness from strangers is the only thing keeping many families like mine going.
Even the smallest donation means everything. It means bread and clean water. It means medicine. It means I can look my children in the eyes and tell them, “You’re going to be okay.”
If you can help please do. And if you can’t donate, please share our story. You never know who might be able to give, and who might be moved to help.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you for standing with us during this unbearable time.
With gratitude, Osama
