**My name is Diaa Al-Deeb, and I am a father of five from Gaza.**

Before the war, I was a taxi driver, providing for my family with hard work and pride. Life was modest, but we were content. All of that changed on October 7th.

The bombings began, and our world turned into chaos. We fled our home, running from destruction, seeking refuge in hospitals first one, then another. But soon, even these places became targets. We had nowhere left to turn. Our only option was to walk through rubble, past tanks, waving white flags, hoping for safety.

Eventually, we made it to Rafah, a city that once housed 200,000 people. Now, it shelters over 1.5 million displaced souls, struggling to survive in the ruins of what was once home.

With no shelter, I built a tent from scraps, with the help of kind-hearted strangers who shared what little they had. But we have nothing. No bedding, no clothes, no access to sanitation, no safety.

My children are suffering. My son, Mohammad, has been diagnosed with hepatitis. We’ve moved from place to place, always searching for safety, but the war follows us relentless, unyielding.

We are strong, but we are not invincible. We need help, help to keep my children warm, to get them the medical care they need, and to

simply survive this nightmare.

**Please, I ask for your support.**

Your contribution can make all the difference in keeping my family safe, healthy, and hopeful. We are not alone in this fight. We stand together, and with your help, we can endure.

Please stand with us.