My name is Fadel Al-Dane, a Palestinian from Gaza, my age 23-year-old third-year IT student. My life has been anything but normal. Since the beginning of the conflict with the occupation, we have lived in a cycle of displacement and fear. We moved from one house to another more than five times, seeking a safe haven from the bombs that rained down. Each time, we hoped to find a place far from danger, but the war left no room for hope or learning. Nevertheless, I did not lose my determination and ambition. I enrolled in distance learning because my university had been destroyed by the occupation.

Eventually, fate brought us back to our home, which we thought would be our last resort. But one dark night, shells rained down on us, destroying our home and injuring my family and me.

The pain at that moment was indescribable; we did not know if we would survive or become just another number among the dead. At that moment, all I remembered was the sound of the explosion, the screams of my brothers, and the surrounding fire. At that moment, I fainted.

What happened next was that I was transferred with my family, under extremely dangerous conditions, to a hospital in the southern Gaza Strip, because the hospitals in the north had completely collapsed. My family later described the scene to me. The journey was filled with death and horror, as if we were crossing a road covered in gunpowder and blood.

After that, we finally arrived at the hospital. I woke up to find myself inside. I underwent surgery to remove metal shrapnel from my body, but unfortunately, it wasn't as successful as I had hoped. Some pieces were removed, while others remained untreated due to the extreme danger and lack of healthcare in Gaza's hospitals.

Doctors assessed my health condition and informed my family that I must leave and receive treatment in another country. However, leaving Gaza requires coordination and travel costs, and treatment also entails additional expenses, with travel and treatment costs amounting to approximately 50,000 euros. I know this is a large sum, but I have no choice. Every passing moment brings me closer to death, and all I can do is ask for help, even if it is simple, in the hope that we will survive and emerge from this ordeal.

I now live in constant pain every day, and the shrapnel in my body reminds me every moment that I am racing against time. We must leave Gaza as soon as possible for the surgery. The danger here is relentless, and the bombing follows us everywhere. The more I feel the pain of the shrapnel still inside me, the more determined I become to stay. We are in constant danger here, and we desperately need to leave. Please help us, even if it is by sharing my story or by a small amount, because any support could save our lives. Thank you, and I hope you will help me, my friends ❤️❤️❤️