I am Abdul Wahab Al-Absi from the Gaza Strip

I am writing this letter to you from among the rubble, in a tent made of wood and nylon, under the range of bombardment and aircraft missiles.

I have a small family (my wife and my children, Anas, 4 years old, Zain, 3 years old, and a baby girl I am waiting for), as my wife is eight months pregnant.

I was a young, enterprising young man full of life, struggling to ensure a decent life for my children.

I graduated from university and created a small team through which I provide advertising and graphic services. Through my work, I was able to provide a beautiful home for my family and children, and in it I fulfilled my dreams and the dreams of my children. My children dreamed of a bicycle, I bought it for them on their birthday, and they were playing with their toys in the garden of our small house. As soon as my child Anas grew up and reached the age of four, I reserved a seat for him in Al-Alia kindergarten and his mother bought him a Spider-Man bag, which he loved very much. He used to watch Spider-Man episodes on YouTube daily. He was very happy at the time. My wife and my little child Zain would bid him farewell every day when he’s picked up by the kindergarten bus.

At a time when I was busy in my work with developing the team and purchasing the most advanced and professional electronic devices, I always dreamed of reaching high levels that were compatible with major and famous companies. I rented an apartment, prepared it with all its belongings, and developed its facilities to match my ambitions.

The barbaric war came to my city. I lost my home, my children’s toys and Anas lost his favourite bag when the occupation bombed his kindergarten. My child Anas asks me every day about the bag, the bike, and the kindergarten. I can’t find an answer that consoles him. He cries over his bike when he sees it in the pictures. With the occupation destroying my workplace, I lost everything I owned there. I lost my source of livelihood, I lost my place of residence, the clothes we had prepared for our coming baby. We lost everything.

I was displaced with my family to the city of Rafah and prepared a simple tent for them to shelter them from death, as Rafah was described by the occupation as “A safe zone”.

But the death and bombing did not stop in Rafah, and I cannot find a solution to my children’s tears and fear of bombing. I have exhausted all the money I hade to feed and secure them, and with nothing now and I cannot provide them with their most basic rights.

I am now considering traveling to save my children from death. I want to find safety and stability and to have a safe life for my family, free of fear and the sound of guns. I hope to find in travel a source of livelihood that will help me support them and provide me with an alternative to my home and my workplace, but unfortunately the costs of travel are very high.

Help me save travel costs and the costs of my children’s belongings and toys that were destroyed by the war before it is too late.

This doesn’t share the pain inside me, nor do these words truly express what has been stolen from me.