Urgent Plea: Help Me Get My Siblings Out of Gaza

Greetings,

My name is Haneen. I am a Palestinian from Gaza, currently pursuing a master's degree in international affairs in the United States. However, my heart and thoughts are with my six siblings back home in Gaza. As my siblings are displaced, and in an attempt to get them to safety in Egypt, I have launched this urgent fundraising campaign. Each person must pay $8,000 to leave Gaza through the Rafah crossing. I know it is a lot to ask, but I hope you will find it in your heart to help. No sibling should have to endure the agony of losing a beloved brother or sister.

Since this aggression began in October, my siblings have been living in terror as rockets and missiles rain down relentlessly around them. Each day, I dread receiving the news that one of my precious brothers or sisters has been killed or gravely injured.

In 2016, we lost our father suddenly to a heart attack. Then in 2018, my 23-year-old brother Ayesh, whose name fittingly means “he is alive” in Arabic, was killed by a sniper’s bullet—his dreams and potential wiped out in an instant. The pain of losing my father and brother has been unbearable. Now I am gripped by the fear that I may lose another sibling. During this attack, I have already lost three cousins and 30 extended family members. Each hour that passes without word from my siblings feeds my worst fears that they are lying dead beneath the rubble.

Before making my request, I would like to tell you a little bit about each of my precious siblings, so you can understand why I am so desperate to get them to safety.

My brothers Mazen and Mohammed volunteer at a hospital in Khan Younis. By all rights under international law, hospitals should stand as protected safe havens even amid the aggression. Tragically though, nowhere in Gaza is truly safe from harm. Other hospitals in the strip have been mercilessly bombed. Now too, missiles rain down perilously close to the hospital where my brothers are, putting their lives at risk every day.

My sister Raneen had just embarked on her studies to become a medical secretary, finally pursuing her dreams of helping others through a healthcare career. But only one month into the program, like thousands of students in Gaza, her education was put on hold, her future now tragically uncertain. Raneen is the gentlest soul I know - affectionate, kind, and loving. She has always tried to find moments of joy and laughter, although growing up in the grim shadow of siege and occupation all her life. It breaks my heart to hear the sadness in her voice now when we speak, and to know her bright blue eyes are now filled with tears. I long for the day I can see her light and laughter again.

My youngest brother Hazem, just 15, dreams of becoming a football star. He follows every match he can, local or international. I cannot bear to imagine Hazem hobbling on crutches, his leg blown off by a missile strike, his athletic hopes destroyed in an instant. From afar, Hazem seems so strong, but underneath he is drowning in grief that no child should have to endure. The light in his eyes dims more each day as he struggles simply to survive another hour of this onslaught.

My sister Nermin still can't decide what she wants to be when she grows up - a lawyer, a teacher, maybe a psychologist. But most of all, at 14 she just wants the chance to have a future, to one day make her dreams a reality. I ache knowing she may never get to find out who she is meant to be. Nermin and Hazem used to bicker constantly, normal sibling squabbles that would flare up and fade just as quickly. How I miss those petty fights now, replaced by a deafening, mournful silence. For over three months now, there is no laughter, no shouting, no joyful noise at all. Only fear and heartbreaking quiet.

My youngest sister Nada is just 11, but wise beyond her years. More than anything, she dreams of becoming a doctor to save lives. She also wants to be a writer, to give voice to the experiences of children like her who have only known life under siege. When we lost our father, Nada was just 3. We older siblings do our best to give Nada the warmth and stability she was robbed of at such a tender age. But she has grown up fast in the shadow of siege, developing a quiet resilience beyond her years. Now though, even Nada's courage falters. For over 95 endless days of bombardment, Nada has retreated deep within herself, her sadness infinite. However, Nada deserves a real childhood, not one spent dodging missiles and mourning lost loved ones.

My family, and all families in Gaza, deserve to live without fear, to heal, and feel hope once more. Mazen, Mohammed, Raneen, Hazem, Nermin, and Nada are not just names to me - they are pieces of my heart. I need to raise $48,000 to urgently evacuate my six siblings to safety in Egypt. Please keep in mind that no act of solidarity is too small. Any amount you can donate will make a meaningful difference. I have included pictures of them when they once smiled with life and joy. I want you to remember them that way - smiling, not grieving. I will share updates with you, so you can see the impact your donation is making. With your support, we can bring light back to my siblings’ battered spirits, away from the darkness threatening to extinguish their dreams. Please also keep praying for the people of Palestine. Your solidarity lifts our spirits immensely during this brutal time.

With sincere gratitude and hope,

Haneen