Evacuating Balsam’s family from Gaza’s war.

To all compassionate and humane hearts,

In the depths of despair and amidst the relentless turmoil of our world, I call upon you with a plea that echoes from the depths of my soul. As I pen these words, my heart weighs heavy with the burden of a harrowing tale, one that speaks of agony and desperation, yet also whispers of hope and resilience. It is a story that belongs not just to me but to countless others who find themselves caught in the cruel grip of adversity. Today, I implore you to lend your ears and open your hearts to a narrative that seeks solace in the warmth of compassion, for it is through your empathy that the seeds of change may bloom amidst the chaos.

I am Balsam AlQishawi, a 27-year-old Palestinian from Gaza, married, and currently residing in Jordan.

My family, encompassing my beloved parents and siblings, is enduring the harrowing ordeal of the ongoing war and bloodshed in Gaza. The anguish and despair that have gripped us since the outbreak of conflict on 12/10/2023 are beyond words.

Imagine the horror of witnessing our home, the sanctuary where we shared laughter and dreams, reduced to rubble by the ruthless hand of the occupying army, leaving us with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Our car, a symbol of our freedom, was lost amidst the chaos of the north. For two agonizing hours, my family huddled together on the unforgiving streets, trembling in fear as bombs rained down upon them, praying desperately for a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

Seeking refuge, they found fleeting solace at my uncle’s house, but their respite was short-lived. The heartless dictates of the occupying forces forced them to flee once more, this time to the inhospitable south. In the Nuseirat area, they sought shelter in the cramped confines of a friend’s home, where over 150 souls shared the same meager resources - a single bathroom, makeshift beds on the cold, hard floor, and precious little food, water, or medicine to sustain them.

As if their plight were not dire enough, the specter of eviction loomed once again, casting my family and relatives into the depths of uncertainty and despair. Forced to scatter to different corners, each member of my shattered family sought refuge wherever they could, driven by desperation and fear.

Eventually, they found temporary sanctuary in the Zawayda area, taking shelter in the humble abode of yet another friend. But as the relentless march of conflict wears on, the toll it exacts grows ever heavier. My beloved mother, once the pillar of strength and resilience, now battles silently against the insidious grip of high blood pressure, her suffering compounded by the absence of medical care, medication, or even a comforting touch.

And here I am, a solitary soul adrift in a foreign land, my heart heavy with the weight of worry for my cherished family. Each night is a torment of sleepless anguish, haunted by visions of their suffering, while the daylight hours bring only a hollow ache of hunger and longing. The inability to reach out to them, to offer even a whisper of solace, gnaws at my very being, leaving me feeling utterly powerless in the face of their trials. With every failed attempt to connect, my soul fractures a little more, shattered by the cruel tyranny of distance and the relentless grip of uncertainty.

I implore you, with every fiber of my being, to heed my desperate plea and extend a helping hand to my family in their hour of need. They are trapped in a living nightmare, unable to escape without paying a ransom of $5,000 per person to Egypt - an unfathomable sum that we, in our destitution, cannot hope to afford.

Please note that the donations are not going to Gaza. I will receive them and travel to Egypt to pay the amount to the company that allowed them to travel.

With tears in my eyes and a prayer on my lips, I beg you to open your hearts and offer whatever assistance you can. For in the darkest of times, it is the light of compassion and humanity that guides us through the storm.

With deepest gratitude and hope,

Balsam