This funding is for my dear friend Mohammed Jamal from Gaza, I got to know him via a friend asking for help and now my daily live is woven with this lovely people in Gaza. He is living due this famine with his family of 14; mother, brothers, sister, little nephews and niece.

He will tell his story below, this war allready took his father, brother-in-law, a lot of other people, caused also a condition and pain, so after that he lost also what he loved to do. He lived a life like us befor the war and genocide, he just wants to enjoy a simple happy life, to make photo's and to sing. It will make all the difference to him if he can have his health back to do this again and help his family and others in daily life.

Now he needs urgently a surgery and needs your help.

Your donation will be part saving money for the surgery and part for the family for food. In this way he can contribute and feeling less helpless.

Please support Mohammed; donate if you can and share his story.
Be the difference to change his life and for his family.

Your donation goes for 100% to Mohammed Jamal via this funding.

With Love, Monique de Bruijn - the Netherlands

Hello everyone,

My name is Mohammed Nashwan, I am 27 years old, and this is the rest of my dreams

I was living a simple but decent life. I used to work and plan my future like any young man my age, dreaming of getting married one day, being a family, and having children who fill the house with joy. My dream was not big, I was just looking for a decent life, with safety, work and the warmth of the home that protects me.

But everything changed in an instant.

On October 7, war broke out on us suddenly. My family of 14 members and I were displaced since the first day of the war, I lost my home, then I lost my job, and then I started to lose everything in a row. I only have my name, and some of the memories I carry with me from a life that was before the war.

I have been displaced several times, from one place to another, carrying our remains on our backs, in search of refuge, from an angle that is not affected by planes and above it the walls do not collapse. Life was closer to death, and death was closer to us than ever. We have survived the bombing more than once, miraculously. As if we were living on the edge of the end, just waiting for when it comes.

The first time we were displaced from northern Gaza to the south of Gaza and lived for about a year and a half in a very small tent, me and my family, we suffered in the summer because of the extreme heat and in the winter we were leaking a lot of water, it was an unbearable severe suffering.

After that, we returned to the north of Gaza on foot for a distance of 22 km and lived in the remaining part of our damaged house, which was uninhabitable, then a month later the war returned again and we were displaced again, leaving everything behind, only we survived ourselves.

We lived a real famine.

We used to prepare bites, and share breadcrumbs. There was not enough food, no pure water, not even medicine. The children were crying with hunger, and the adults were pretending to be full so as not to eat from the little ones.

In the midst of these fatal circumstances, I began to feel pain in my stomach. I thought it was exhaustion, hunger or stress. But the pain increased, and it began to win me. I tried to ignore it, there is something more serious than my pain, there is a life in which we must survive. But my body couldn't take it anymore.

I went to a simple medical point, and the shock was: “Abdominal hernia, and need urgent surgery.”

But how? There is no money, no equipped hospitals, and no possibility of any proper treatment. We're just trying to relieve the pain, but the disease is getting worse. Hope is receding.

Now, I'm a broken young man, not because I'm weak, but because I lost everything I built, because I'm sick and I can't find a cure, because I feel that my future is leaking from me every day.

But despite this, I have not lost my humanity, and I have not lost hope that anyone will hear my story, that someone will see my pain, reach out to me and help me stand up again, to bring back Muhammad who dreamed of a house and children, not Muhammad who is fighting today just to live.

I'm Mohamed Nashwan, and I still have a pulse of life inside me, but I need a chance, a tender hand, for a voice that says to me: “You will not be left alone.”

Instagram

@mohamed.nashwan67