Help Ibrahim Survive the Genocide

My name is Mohammed Al-Najjar. I’m 22 years old, a student of Accounting at Al-Quds Open University.

I was just a young man with simple dreams: to graduate, find a job, and support my mother and siblings. But since October 7th, everything in my life has collapsed my home, my future, even my sense of safety.

But nothing hurts more than seeing what this war has done to my little brother, Ibrahim.

Ibrahim has Down syndrome. He used to light up our home with his pure heart and innocent smile. But the war stole his laughter. From the very first day, he’s been trembling at every sound of bombing. Whenever a strike hits nearby, he runs to my mother in tears, hiding his face in her arms. His cries, his fear, his wide, terrified eyes they haunt me.

We’ve been sleeping in fear, waking up to explosions. We fled from our home after it was destroyed, seeking safety in the central area but even there, death followed. The house we took shelter in was bombed. I lost my friend before my eyes. Our neighbors were killed. I saw my mother and siblings lying in the street cold, hungry, and afraid.

We were displaced again… to Rafah, then to Khan Younis. Each time, we carried our fears, our pain, and a tent a tent that offers no protection from the scorching sun, the bitter cold, or the insects that bite us every night. We’re not living we’re simply trying to survive.

A few days ago, I returned to our home in the north… holding on to a tiny thread of hope that maybe something remained. But there was nothing. Just rubble. No walls, no photos, no memories. Not even a bed to rest my head.

And through it all, Ibrahim is suffering the most. This war has crushed him, filled him with fear and trauma. The worst part? We can’t afford his medication anymore or even food. Some nights, there’s absolutely nothing to feed him. And all I can do is hold him close and cry silently, so he doesn’t see how helpless I’ve become.

I’m not asking for help for myself… I’m asking for Ibrahim.

A meal, medicine, a warm blanket any small donation could change his life. Could give him a moment of peace, a break from the fear.

Please, help us.

Maybe your donation can be the difference between a night of hunger and a night of safety.

Between Ibrahim’s tears… and his smile.