Hi my name is samer and im foundrisng for my cousin ayham and this is his story ….

I'm Ayham, I'm 18 years old... In other countries, this is the age to graduate from big dreams and begin the journey. But in Gaza, this is the age when I learned to identify types of explosives by their sound and how to spread my dreams before my friends.

I wasn't just a number; I had my own room, my books, and pictures hanging on the walls... And now? Now all my history has turned to a pile of dust. We don't live in a tent; we bleed inside it. A tent in winter isn't shelter; it's a piece of cloth helpless against a cold that gnaws at the bones of my younger siblings, and against rain that turns our humble bedding into a pool of mud.

The pain isn't just in the hunger...

The greatest pain is when my father, the man who was the pillar of the house, looks at me with broken eyes because he has nothing to feed us. The pain is when my little sister asks me in a trembling voice, 'Ayham, will we die today?'...

And I'm forced to lie to her with a faint smile and say: No, tomorrow we'll go back home, while in my heart I know that our home is gone.

We are exhausted, and hunger has drained what little strength we have left. We no longer seek luxury; we seek survival. We seek one night to sleep without waking to the sound of an explosion, and one meal to make us feel that we are still human beings worthy of life. A plea from the heart of suffering

I write to you not asking for pity, but in search of a shared humanity. Every donation from you is not just money; it is a wall to protect us from the cold, a morsel to stop a child from crying, and a glimmer of hope that tells us we are not alone in this inferno.

Help me save my family... Help me rebuild from the ashes

Life