My name is Nidal. I’m 23 years old. I never finished my studies—not because I didn’t dream, but because war stole the chance from me before I could even begin.

I once had a beautiful family… my father, my mother, and my siblings. We lived simply, hoping only for safety and a future we could build together. But life started taking everything from us, piece by piece.

In 2017, cancer took my father. His death was the first wound, and from that moment, my older brother and I became the ones holding our family together.

But war doesn’t spare anyone… and on February 4th, 2024, it took my brother too—my support, my strength, the person I relied on the most.

He was killed, and with him, a part of me died as well.

Since then, I became the only provider for my family—my elderly mother, my little sister Hala who is only 9 years old and deserves a safe home, proper nutrition, education, and a childhood far away from fear. I also support my wife and my other siblings… all of them depending on me to survive.

Our home was partially destroyed.

We lost the rooms that once held our dreams, our memories, our laughter.

We lived through displacement, hunger, and nights with no shelter above us. Days without food. Weeks in refugee camps, carrying our lives in small bags and carrying our pain in hearts far too young to endure it.

The war didn’t only steal my brother… it stole my youth, my dreams, my ambitions, and the peaceful moments I never got to experience.

Still, I am trying. Trying to keep my mother safe, protect my sister’s childhood, and give my family even the smallest chance at a dignified life.

I am writing this because I have no other path left.

I am writing to try to save what remains of us.

Nothing will ever return to how it was, but I am fighting to get my family out of this nightmare.

Please help us… help my mother, my little sister, and my exhausted heart that cannot bear another loss.