I am a 34-year-old man from Gaza, married and once living a simple, peaceful life. Before the war, I worked as an accountant in a company, and every evening I returned to my beautiful home where love and safety surrounded me. My wife and I were waiting for the arrival of our first child, and I dreamed of building a better future for my family.

But the war shattered everything. My company was bombed, and with it I lost my job. I lost my only child before he could even see the world, still in his mother’s womb. I lost my brother. And then, I lost my home, the place that once held all my joy.

From peace and hope, my life was turned into endless grief and struggle. Today, I live with wounds that cannot heal, carrying memories of what I had and what I lost, trying to hold on to a small thread of humanity and hope in the midst of all this pain.