Bring Hope to Mumtaz and His Family

My name is Ahmed Mahmood Basheir Al-Banna, and the boy in the picture is my brother Mumtaz, who has autism, looked like this before the war. Back then, he was full of life and hopes. The photo was taken in a time when things were better, before the war took everything from us, our peace, our home, and even his health. Now,

that image feels like a distant memory of a life we can no longer recognize.

In this war, we lost it all—our jobs, our homes, our savings, and, worst of all, some of our family members. Everything that made life worth living in Gaza was destroyed. Now, life is nothing but a daily fight to survive.

We’re living in tents now. The cold cuts through us at night, and the mosquitoes make it impossible to rest. Skin infections, hunger, thirst—these are constant realities. We’ve gone over a year without electricity, and it feels like the darkness has seeped into every part of our lives.

My brother Mumtaz has autism. He needs special care, and he had a school where he was thriving. That school is gone now, bombed to the ground. He’s terrified by the sounds of explosions, by the chaos around us, and his health—both mentally and physically—is getting worse every day. Here is the medical report confirming that he is indeed diagnosed with autism. ⬇️

My mother is sick, too. She has rheumatoid arthritis and joint inflammation. She needs medicine and care, but we can’t afford any of it. Watching her suffer is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure. ⬇️

On top of everything, prices are skyrocketing. Food is scarce, and we’re drowning in debt that we can’t begin to pay back.

We’ve tried to escape death more times than I can count. We’ve moved from place to place, looking for safety, but there’s no such thing here. Nowhere in Gaza is safe.

All I want is to save my family from this endless nightmare. I just want a chance to start over, to rebuild something out of this devastation. That’s my only hope. Please don’t let my brother and mother suffer alone.