<div>My name is Islam, I am 34 years old and trained as a specialist in rehabilitating children with special needs. My husband, Eyad, is 38. He spent his life working in car trading—he knew every detail of the business.
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<div>Together, we are the parents of three children: Rital (13), Ahmad (12), and Salam (3). Their days once revolved around school, play, and childhood dreams… until our lives changed in an instant.
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<div><strong>The Day Everything Changed</strong>
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<div>On an ordinary morning, I was preparing my children for school—dressing them in their uniforms, placing their bags on their shoulders, hiding their little dreams inside.
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<div>But the war was faster. They never made it to class. They returned to me carrying fear instead. From that day, there was no road left—not to school, not to the life we once knew.
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<div><strong>Displacement and Loss</strong>
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<div>By the fourth day, we left our home in silence, taking nothing with us, thinking we would return in a few days. Behind us, we left walls that sheltered us for years and a sense of safety we thought eternal.
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<div>We sought refuge with relatives, but death followed us. A nearby missile shook the ground beneath us. I scooped my children into my arms and ran—mind empty, heart only screaming: run.
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</div><img alt="" media_type="3" src="https://d2g8igdw686xgo.cloudfront.net/93831889_1755724374358181_r.jpeg" width="100%" />
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<div>In Khan Younis, every day brought fresh fear and loss. A month and a half later, came the news that shattered me: our home was destroyed completely. Both our cars—our only source of livelihood—were gone. One burned, the other crushed.
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<div>It felt as if all our dreams were buried under the rubble. My husband, who had devoted his life to work and securing a future for our children, was left with nothing—no job, no hope.
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<div><strong>Struggles That Followed</strong>
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<div>We moved on to Rafah, but suffering followed us. My children became sick: liver issues, skin diseases, and hearts filled with fear. They wake up terrified at the sound of anything loud. Even food and medicine became out of reach, luxuries at impossible prices.
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<div>Then winter came. In the tent, the cold gnawed at our bones. Summer brought choking heat. Rain seeped into the little we had left. We were displaced again and again—north to south, Khan Younis to Rafah, then to Deir al-Balah. Always running, always searching for safety, always finding danger.
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<div><strong>Our Daily Reality</strong>
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<div>Today, we live a harsh, primitive life. Days are spent standing in water lines, waiting for food handouts, collecting firewood. My children have forgotten what school feels like, what play means. They have forgotten their dreams.
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<div><strong>Why We Need Your Help</strong>
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<div>I write these words with a heart racing ahead of me. I am not asking for luxury.
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<div>I only ask for a small home—just a room with a kitchen and bathroom—where I can cook for my children and keep them warm in winter.
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<div>I want to provide them with food and medicine. I want to be ready—if the crossing opens—to take them somewhere safe. Somewhere they can laugh again, go to school again, and learn that life is not only fear.
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<div><strong>Your Humanity Can Change Everything</strong>
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<div><strong>Your donation is not just money.</strong>
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<div><strong>It is a new life for us.</strong>
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<div><strong>It is the return of a smile to my children’s faces, after being lost for too long.</strong>
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<div><strong>Please help us rebuild hope.</strong>
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JaMEs MALAK

JaMEs Malak

Nur safinaz Mukhtar

Sara Abdel-Metaal Zapata

Mahmut Selçuk

Isabel Marín

Fawzeya Sara Abdel Metaal Zapata

keely bowman

Anonymous

Vincent Potts

eleshia lee

Bella Pilkington

Wisal Marín

David Heidkamp

Nina Henderson

Help Islam's Family Survive in Gaza

Help Islam's Family Survive in Gaza

Still €65,841 to go. Help us build momentum.