Help rebuild Civilian lives in South Lebanon

When tragedy strikes far away, it can be hard to fully grasp its weight—but when it hits home, the reality is undeniable.

This past week, my family's house in Kfarkila, a small village in Marjeeyoon on the Lebanese-Israeli border, was destroyed by an airstrike. Over the past year, as the war in the region unfolded, we’ve watched most of the houses in our village destroyed and people on both sides of the border displaced to what seems like safer ground. Every day, I’ve seen my mother anxiously awaiting the inevitable news that it was her home’s turn, and now that moment has tragically come. What was once my parents' dream—a home where they could bring their five children together, now scattered across different countries—was wiped out. They spent 15 years building it, pouring their life savings and hopes into that space. For my father, a cancer and heart attack survivor, this home symbolized life, resilience, and the future.

It’s hard to describe the pain of watching something built from love and hope vanish in the blink of an eye. And yet, this is the daily reality for so many families in conflict zones around the world. We often see this on the news and think of it as a distant problem. But these are real people with dreams, families, and stories just like ours.

I know many will wonder why we built a house in such a place. To that, I say: we don’t choose where we are born, our ethnicity, our skin color, or our faith—but we can choose whether or not to honor our heritage. My family chose to honor ours.

While I won’t delve into the politics of the conflict, I will say this: Wars are not video games. The people who are killed or displaced daily are someone’s sons, daughters, parents, and loved ones. No scientific advancement can bring them back.

In times like these, the choice between hatred and peace feels impossible—but I choose peace. I choose love. I choose courage. Because war has never solved anything, I hope to raise my children with these values, in hopes of a future that is kinder than the past. We must raise the next generation to understand that real strength lies not in destruction, but in the ability to build and rebuild—physically and emotionally—despite the darkest of times.

As of today, two-thirds of the houses in our home village and the neighboring villages have been destroyed. That region of Marjeeyoon, known for its rich religious and cultural diversity, has always been at the heart of this conflict. For generations, it has stood as a testament to the people’s deep connection to their land, their olive trees, and their heritage. But now, much of that has been wiped away.

Sadly, not everyone has the fortune of a family member abroad who can offer support, as my parents do. Many families have lost everything, with no resources to rebuild on their own.

Behind every conflict, behind every destroyed home, are families like mine. The consequences of violence ripple far beyond the immediate destruction. The loss of a home is not just a physical loss; it’s the loss of stability, security, and the connection to a life that once was.

When the forces of good leave a void in the lives of those in need, the forces of evil are always ready to fill it. The donations raised will go directly toward helping these families restore their homes and lives. This isn’t just about bricks and mortar—it’s about giving people a chance to return to their land, preserve their dignity, and avoid being forced into dependency on outside forces that use aid as a tool for control. By helping these families rebuild, we are giving them more than just a roof over their heads; we are giving them the strength to reclaim their independence and the dignity to choose their future. This will prevent them from being driven to desperation and feeling compelled to align with forces of hate, anger, and extremism that fuel the ongoing cycle of violence.

I share this not to seek sympathy, but to remind us all of our shared humanity. The cost of rebuilding is high, but the cost of losing hope is even greater. While I may be able to assist my family, many others won’t have that opportunity. That’s why I’m launching this fundraising campaign—to support those who cannot afford to start over. Together, we can help break the cycle and rebuild not just homes, but hope.

Let’s work toward a future where love and peace are the only forces driving our world forward.