I hope you help us from genocide

I am Hanzala Hamad. I am 32 years old. I am married and have three children. I was like everyone else in my house eating breakfast when the war began on the morning of October 7. That day we were forced to flee at night from our house in Beit Hanoun. We were in a miserable state as we fled to Jabalia. That day will be remembered in My memory of a difficult day cannot be erased from my sight. We sat in Jabalia Street one day, then we went to a school in Sheikh Radwan. We spent a week there, as it was a difficult period with no gas, no food, no drink. At that time, my wife was pregnant.

After this difficult week, we were displaced to Rafah on a day that was severely bombed, a day like the Day of Resurrection. We spent seven months in Rafah and sat in a school. We were waiting for the school to deliver a can of beans so that we could eat. I stood in line for water for hours to provide it for my family. We were suffering from diseases due to the lack of cleanliness, water, and school bathrooms, Al-Qudra, where we learned. Our house was demolished at the end of the period, then we fled to Deir al-Balah in a tent, and I gave birth to my third daughter, my new angel, who needs pampers, milk, and a healthy, warm place.