Hello,

my name is Ibrahim, and I was born and raised in Balata Refugee Camp, near Nablus in the West Bank of Palestine. My family originally comes from Haifa, a city we were forced to leave during the Nakba, like so many others who lost their homes, their land, and their safety.

I grew up in Balata among other families who had also left everything behind. Some of my most cherished memories are of playing with my friends in the narrow alleys of the camp. We didn’t have fancy toys, but we had each other. We played soccer with a worn-out ball, made kites from plastic bags, and ran barefoot through the dust—laughing, even if just for a moment, forgetting about the sound of gunfire, the constant hunger, and the ever-present fear of another raid conducted by occupying forces.

But life in the camp has never been easy.

When I was just six years old, my life changed forever. I lost my mother after she was brutally beaten by Israeli forces. From that moment on, I grew up not only as an orphan—but as a child stripped of safety and protection. There were nights when we had nothing but bread and tea to eat, and sleep came only when exhaustion beat out the hunger.

And yet, even in the darkest moments, I held on to hope. I completed my education in the UNRWA schools, believing that learning could be a way forward—not just for me, but for my community. Today, I work as a mental health professional, offering psycho social support, recreational activities, and trauma care to the children, adolescents, and families of Balata. I try to be a source of compassion, healing, and dignity in a place that has known far too much suffering.

But the need here is greater than I can meet alone.

The people of Balata—especially our women and children—continue to endure unimaginable hardship. Deep poverty, widespread unemployment, and a lack of even the most basic services define daily life in the camp. Military raids are frequent, and movement is heavily restricted. Access to jobs, medical care, and education is severely limited.

Originally meant as a temporary shelter in 1950, Balata has become a permanent home to over 30,000 people, living in overcrowded conditions with failing sewage systems, unreliable electricity, and unsafe water. The few clinics we have are severely under-resourced, and our schools are overwhelmed—overcrowded classrooms full of children carrying the invisible wounds of trauma and fear.

And beyond all of this—the physical, the structural, the economic—is the psychological toll. The constant stress, the helplessness, the grief. It’s a silent crisis that cuts deep, especially in the hearts of the young.

How You Can Help

This campaign is not just about financial aid—it's about restoring hope, offering dignity, and planting the seeds of healing in a place that desperately needs it.

Your donation will help us:

• Expand mental health services and trauma care for children and families

• Provide recreational and educational programs for youth

• Support basic needs like food, hygiene supplies, and school materials

• Train local volunteers in psychosocial support and resilience work

Every contribution, no matter how small, helps us push back against despair—and replace it with care, connection, and courage.

The funds will be managed by a third part in Europe, due to restrictions in Palestine.

From the heart of Balata, thank you for reading, for caring, and for standing with us. Together, we can make space for healing—even in the hardest places.

With gratitude,

Ibrahim