Help brother Khaled al-Madhoun from Palestine

This donation is for a brother in Palestine called Khaled Al-Madhoun. My name is Hamza Rehman from the uk and I have been in contact with a brother from Palestine who has showed me his living situation and honestly it’s heartbreaking. This is his story

“My name is Khaled Al-Madhoun. I live in Gaza, a place that has known nothing but war, fear, and devastation for far too long. The streets that once echoed with the laughter of children now lie silent, marked by the scars of bombs and broken buildings. My home, where I grew up, is nothing more than rubble now. The walls that held memories of family gatherings, celebrations, and quiet evenings are gone, replaced by the sound of distant explosions and the cries of those who have lost everything.

I used to have dreams. Simple ones—of peace, of safety, of watching my children grow up without fear. But now, those dreams feel distant, slipping away with every passing day. There are no more playgrounds, no more schools. My children, like so many others, are living in constant fear. They don’t ask for toys or games anymore; they just want to know when the next airstrike will come, and whether or not we will survive it.

Every day, I wake up to the sound of sirens. The sky is always filled with smoke, and the air tastes like dust. There are no guarantees here—only uncertainty, only loss. Friends, neighbors, family members—many have been taken, their lives cut short by violence. I’ve learned to carry grief in silence, to hold my emotions inside because there’s no room for them here. No room for mourning when there’s no time to rest.

There are days when I feel as if I’m losing my humanity, as if this place is turning me into someone unrecognizable. The despair is overwhelming, but still, I try. I try to hold on to what little hope remains. I try to tell myself that one day, things will be different. That one day, there will be peace.

But in the depths of all this destruction, I can’t help but ask myself: will anyone hear my plea for help? Will anyone see the suffering that we endure, day after day, in Gaza? Will anyone care?

I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that I’m not alone in this pain. My neighbors, my friends, we all share in this struggle. All we ask for is a life free of fear, a life where we can walk down the streets without wondering if we’ll make it home. I hope, somewhere in the world, someone is listening, someone is willing to help.

This is the reality of my life, here in Gaza. It’s a reality filled with loss, destruction, and sorrow—but still, I hold on to the smallest spark of hope.”

these funds will be used to