My name is Ahmed Al-Hajj, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of my dear friend Rami, whom I have known for years as a kind, hardworking man who once lived a stable and peaceful life with his family before the war destroyed everything.

 Here is Rami’s story in his own words: — My name is Rami. I am 48 years old and a father of five daughters. My eldest daughter is 18 years old, and my youngest is only 4. Before the war, we lived a dignified and peaceful life. We had a warm and spacious home that brought our family together, and my wife worked as a teacher. We thanked God every day for the blessings we had. We had safety, stability, and each other. Then the war began… and we lost everything. Our home was completely destroyed, and our lives turned into a long journey of displacement from one place to another in search of safety — a safety we still have not found. In the middle of all this suffering, my third daughter suffered a brain hemorrhage and partially lost her eyesight. Doctors told us she urgently needed to travel to Egypt for treatment, or she could lose her vision completely. But leaving Gaza was not simply a medical journey… it became another devastating shock. I was forced to borrow huge amounts of money just to get my wife and younger daughters out to Egypt to save my child’s eyesight, while I remained in Gaza with my other two daughters, living through displacement, tents, fear, and hunger. I cannot fully describe the pain we have endured. My wife, who worked as a teacher for UNRWA, was placed on unpaid leave as soon as she traveled, and we lost our only source of income. In Egypt, the costs of treatment, rent, and daily living continued to pile up until we became overwhelmed with debt. After two years away for treatment, my wife and daughter finally returned to Gaza… but the suffering did not end there. My wife was permanently dismissed from her job. Today, my family is shattered and separated. My wife lives with her parents in one place, while I live in a single crowded room with my elderly sick parents and my siblings. There is no home left to reunite us as a family. My daughters are living through fear, displacement, and deprivation, and I am unable to even provide a safe place for them to live. All I hope for today is not luxury… but a life with dignity. I dream only of a small home that can reunite me with my wife and daughters after all this separation, and of being able to provide food, education, and medical care for my children — especially as some of them are reaching university age — while I myself suffer from chronic illnesses and crushing debt. I swear to God, we are not asking for comfort or luxury. We are simply trying to survive with what remains of our dignity and our lives. Any support, no matter how small, could bring safety back to my family after years of fear and suffering, and could help my daughters believe that life is not over yet. Please help us begin again.