A Plea From Gaza to stay alive

Dear Humanity,

I write this with hands that shake from sleepless nights and a heart that refuses to accept reality. My name is Kamel, a 26-year-old Palestinian engineer who escaped Gaza to pursue a master’s degree—only to watch my family disappear into hell one WhatsApp message at a time.

Since October, my family has:

Survived four forced evacuations (home → Deir al-Balah → Nuseirat → Rafah).

Lived in a flooded tent where rainwater mixes with sewage.

Gone days without food, my 2-year-old nephew Youssef crying for milk that doesn’t exist.

Endured bombings so close, my sister Dima now whispers to drown out the drones.

My father—the man who once carried our family on his back—now carries trauma in his hollow eyes. My mother, who filled our home with laughter, now bakes bread from animal feed.

I am trapped outside Gaza, powerless, watching their bodies and spirits break in real time.

This isn’t charity. This is ransom money to buy my family back from death.

I beg for their lives. Share. Donate. Be the reason they survive.

With shattered hope,

Kamel Shahwan