Donate to help Reham Khaled

Hi, I am Eduard Wesly from the Netherlands and I am raising funds for the survival of my dear friend Reham Khaled in G'aza. Reham, 28, is a school teacher and lives with and takes care of her father, Khaled, her mother, Ataf and her sister Nour.

Reham, like most people in Gaza, is dependent on donations. Against gen0cidal odds, she tries to keep good spirits and take care of her parents.

She also stays active as a teacher.

Here you can visit Reham's Facebook page and send her a friendship request.

As soon as I receive any donation, I will transfer it to Reham's account at the Bank of Palestine.

Please send me a message if you have any questions.

On May 3, 2025 Reham wrote the following:

"Hello, my friends, I hope my voice reaches you in moments of security, peace, and calm. I am writing to you from a land of war, a land torn apart by bombs, fear, destruction, and hunger. I am Reham Khaled, 28 years old, an elementary school teacher. I had lost my life, my passion, and the most basic human rights. I had completed my bachelor's degree and begun my master's degree when the war began. A war from which no human being, tree, or stone, large or small, was spared. It was imposed on me in a moment when we had no idea what the future held for us. We had rosy dreams that would cover the entire world. But now the story has become lighter and shorter, the dreams have diminished, and our reality has become gray, like the color of missile smoke. Our dreams used to boast of a better future and a safe life, in an attempt to establish a scientific entity that would rise among the nations. But today, my dreams have become too big for this abhorrent country.

I dream of waking up in a house of my own, not sharing a room with my entire family in a borrowed home. I spent the first year of the war in our old house, and I still can't get used to it. Worry looms over me, and I wait for a miracle, but all the signs scream at me: "You'll never have a home!"

I dream of taking a hot shower, not climbing into a cold bucket of coffee. I dream of tasting real coffee, not a bitter spice mixture, and drinking it in a cup of my choice, not a distorted one. I dream of eating whatever I want without worrying about running out of food tomorrow. I dream of organizing my clothes in a special closet, not searching for them among worn bags and torn suitcases. I dream of sleeping on a bed that gently caresses my back after months of hard work.

I dream of eating a satisfying meal, finding the necessary medicine, and learning in school like all other peoples.

I want to flip on the light switch and instantly light up the room. I've forgotten the meaning of light in this endless darkness. I no longer see anything but daylight, and as soon as it sets, we're plunged into darkness. I've always loved the night, but now I want to choose darkness of my own free will, not for it to be imposed upon me by force.

I want a real kitchen to bake sweets reminiscent of my memories, then throw them away if I fail and try again. We're tired of lighting fires, as if the fire of war in our bones isn't enough!

The worst part of all is that I'm willing to give up all these dreams... just so we won't be displaced from our homes again. So we won't experience the horror of killing, siege, bombardment, and death again.

I want to escape from here...

Despite all this, I still cling to a glimmer of hope that gives me the strength to continue to persevere in the face of all this madness.

I am now an elementary school teacher who has set up educational tents for more than 200 children, from the ages of 6 to 12.

In an attempt to give them a healthy life, change the scars left by the war in their souls, and give them a better future.

Today, I leave you with the voice of a teacher from Gaza. Her dreams used to be rosy, but now they are gray, like the smoke clouds emerging from the destruction and missiles.

I leave you with hope for a life that we may no longer be in within hours or days. Perhaps I will be the new victim or the new hope.

May you be well. And hope."