Bonjour, je suis Lilla, étudiante de 22 ans et je marraine la cagnotte de Noha. Voici sa présentation :

Hello, my name is Noha Mohammed. I am 25 years old from the Gaza Strip. Since 2022, I have worked at a school for children with special needs. I have survived several previous wars in Gaza, but today I'm facing the most dangerous one. My mother, Sana (46 years old), and my siblings, Ahmed (23), Hossam (19), Sabrin (13), Hamza (12), and I, saw our father killed in front of our eyes, a martyr of that war. My brother Hamza has been living with post-traumatic stress disorder ever since.

Our only wish today, in the face of continued bombing and displacement, is to ensure our survival by providing ourselves with basic necessities, then fleeing Gaza to be, finally, safe. But we don't know when the borders will reopen. So our plan is to buy a water truck (30.000$), so that we can meet our basic needs and no longer depend solely on the gofundme.

Beyond food and water, I have two siblings in university: the first studies Physical Fitness and Sports, and his studies have been stopped; the second is in Medical School and may lose his dream — and my father’s dream — if we cannot pay the tuition for this semester, which costs $1,500, in addition to daily expenses.

My younger brother is struggling with serious mental health issues, and my younger sister may experience worsening vision problems if I cannot continue taking her to a doctor regularly. I’m waiting for the private schools to reopen so I can enroll them, and for now, I am teaching them in the tent. But even before schools reopen, I need to gather enough funds to ensure they can continue their education and live a life they deserve.

I am the only university graduate in the family, and I will not allow their future to be lost. Their education is extremely important, and I will not let this war prevent them from learning.

Please donate if you can, and share our story, which I will tell you more specifically now.

My name is Noha Mohammed, born in Khan Younis – Gaza Strip. I am 25 years old. I have survived several previous wars on Gaza, but today I am facing the most dangerous one. I lost my father, who was shot in front of my eyes, my mother’s, and my siblings’, brutally, and we were denied the ability to provide him medical care or even bury him with dignity.

This forced me to flee with my family for the sixth time to the Al-Mawasi area in Al-Qarara. I lost my father before my eyes—he was shot by the occupation during a sudden siege on our home in Khan Younis. His pure body remained with us for a whole week, without allowing us to bid him farewell or bury him. We had no provider after him, only a heavy, unforgettable pain.

We were deprived of water and food, and on one morning during the siege, we left carrying our lives and our father, the martyr, on our shoulders, fleeing the shelling and snipers. We ran under the fire of death toward the Palestinian Red Crescent, raising the white flag in search of a lost hope in a land without safety.

We buried my father under the bombardment to honor him, then sought shelter in the Red Crescent compound, only to find the ground among hundreds of trapped people.

We remained two weeks under fire, trapped, witnessing sniping and shelling. My siblings and I saw scenes that no heart can bear: blood, destruction, shelling, tanks crushing bodies, snipers coldly taking lives, and wounded people being attacked by dogs. My younger siblings grew up witnessing death instead of dreams and flowers; their childhood was stolen by violence instead of innocence, scattered between grief and the pains of war. They witnessed violence in its most horrific forms.

It didn’t stop with the loss of our father alone. I also lost my home, which was completely destroyed, and we lost our only source of income, leaving my family without shelter, support, or a provider in this ordeal.

Today, my five family members and I live in tragic humanitarian conditions, without safe shelter and under the constant threat of shelling, with death pursuing us at every moment. We have lost all the basic necessities of life, and we have no choice but to urgently ask for help to save our lives.

I raise this plea with a heart desperate yet filled with hope in your humanity, asking you to intervene urgently to help my family and me leave Gaza and secure protection for us in this harsh war.

We live amidst the sounds of explosions, the smell of destruction, and the presence of death that never leaves the area. Life in our city no longer resembles life—it has become a daily suffering beyond human endurance. Therefore, we beg you with what little hope remains in us to extend a helping hand and assist us in reaching a safe place before it is too late.

We spend our days in constant fear under the shelling, deprived of adequate food, clean water, and essential medical care due to the tragic conditions. We have lost our loved ones one after another: starting with my father, then my uncle, then my grandfather, in addition to other family members, while many others were also injured.

I completed my university education in 2021 with excellent grades after years of dedication and hard work. In 2022, I successfully passed employment exams and worked at a school for children with special needs. This was a long-awaited dream for me. But this dream did not last long; the school was destroyed in the war, and I lost my only job, leaving me unemployed.

It was not only jobs that we lost but also our home, where I grew up and dreamed of my future. We also lost the water truck that my father had worked with for many years as our main source of income. Everything we built collapsed in a moment, leaving our lives without shelter or a means to live with dignity. Even our food has become limited and unhealthy, and we lack clean water, often forced to buy it at prices far beyond our ability to pay.

My younger siblings, Sabrin and Hamza, suffer from health and psychological issues. We try to monitor and help them, providing treatment as much as we can, but we lack the full capacity to treat them and follow up under these harsh conditions. Sabrin suffers from flatfoot; my father had been following her condition from a young age and providing proper treatment. She also suffers from severe vision impairment and a high degree of eye deviation, which may lead to blindness if proper follow-up and continuous treatment are not provided. Hamza suffers from post-traumatic stress and requires ongoing care.

Despite the harsh circumstances surrounding us, we remain a family that does not know surrender. Our parents planted seeds of ambition and raised us with hope and determination, to move steadfastly toward success regardless of the challenges:

I graduated with excellence from the College of Educational Sciences.

My eldest brother was a student in Sports and Physical Fitness.

My middle brother is in his second year of medical school.

My younger siblings, Sabrin and Hamza, completed elementary school with excellent grades, but their education was interrupted due to the war, and they could not continue studying.

(Picture of our destroyed home)

Our plan is to leave Gaza for Egypt and then seek asylum in Belgium, Canada, Sweden, or the United States. However, this is complicated and requires resources we lack. Therefore, I appeal to you through this campaign.

The cost of leaving Gaza is approximately $7,000 per person. We are a family of six (2 sisters, 3 brothers, and our mother), which totals about $40,000. The rest will be allocated for housing, basic needs, medical care, and clothing, as we have lost everything.

Family members:

Noha (campaign writer), 25 years old

Sana (mother), 46 years old

Ahmed (eldest brother), 23 years old

Hossam (middle brother), 19 years old

Sabrin (youngest sister), 13 years old

Hamza (youngest brother), 12 years old

We urgently need your support to secure our exit from Gaza to live in peace, away from the shadow of war, destruction, and the violence we have witnessed. We ask for your help and pray that God rewards you well.

Please donate if you can, and share our story with those you know. Any contribution, no matter how small, means the world to us.