My name is Motaz Abulaila and I have lived in the UK since 2015. Arriving here wasn't easy. I'm originally from Gaza, Palestine, and that came with an unique set of challenges: even to attend medical school in Egypt I had to go through exceptional difficulties. It would have been impossible to become a doctor and then go through my long professional journey without the constant and loving support of my family back home. My Parents and brothers, in particular, supported me in every way for many years of study and residency. My family now needs all the help I can give them and more.

My family has been going through the most horrifying experiences I can imagine since October 2023. Things weren't easy even before due to the siege: they faced enormous difficulties in accessing medical care for my elderly parents Hanaa and Mohammad (71 y/o and 64 y/o), as well as for my brother Ahmed after his diagnosis of cancer (40 y/o now, 34 y/o at the diagnosis).

Ahmed case was featured as an example of Palestinian in Gaza struggle to access medical care in the WHO report in July 2022

My parents Mohammad and Hanaa, before the war

My elderly parents are the only carers for my youngest sister Saja (24 y/o), who suffers from learning difficulties, epilepsy, and retinitis pigmentosa which is a rare eye diseases that affect the retina causing vision impairment; she had to grow up without the resources necessary to give her more possibilities in life and, even if my family gave her everything possible and took excellent care of her, she is now struggling with years-long depression that is severely affected by the current traumatic conditions.

Saja also lost her beloved cat Thomas, and she continue to talk about him every day.

Saja and Thomas in my parent's kitchen in Gaza in 2023

Ahmed is a brilliant and hard-working IT engineer who graduated from Southampton University. He is a father of 3 beautiful children, a devoted husband who worked hard to provide a safe life to his family, a son who takes care of his elderly parents, and a cancer patient who needs critical follow-up. I asked him to write a letter in which he talks about himself and his family, and you can find it here following this message.

Ahmed with his wife Heba and the children on a day out

Now they have lost their homes, their savings, their livelihoods, their belongings and the perspective to be able to go back home after months of repeated displacement.

Current state of my parent's house

Ahmed's apartment among the rubble

I urge your donation and support to help Ahmed's family and my parents and sister rebuild a new life and provide Ahmed with the means to help him with his critical cancer follow-up.

I'm aware that the goal for this fundraising is overly optimistic; we don't expect to fulfill it in its entirety, but it is for me an opportunity to show the tragic reality of loss that our family experienced.

This is a breakdown of the costs that we have or will have to face in order to go back to normal conditions:

- Parents house damages to the point of being uninhabitable, $90000 worth of estimated damage

- Ahmed house complete obliteration of the whole building apartment with all valuable belongings and his car, $185000 worth of damage

- cancer treatment and special scans and tests will likely be $117000 for the 5 years prognosis period

- special crossing cost of $50000 that we already sustained

- actual rent and living expenses for 3 families of 12 people in place of displacement for only one year $36000

Our priority is to use this money to cover Ahmed medical expenses and give our family all the required support in this though transitional moment, hoping to use what's left to start the rebuilding process.

Your donation will provide a life line to my parents Hanaa and Mohammad, my vulnerable sister Saja, my brother Ahmed, his wife Heba, and their children Hanaa, Siraj, and Saji.

But it will also help our sister Doaa, her husband Mohammad, and her two little children Jawad (6 y/o) and Naya (2 y/o) as they have evacuated but are now in need of assistance in Egypt; as well as our sister Shaymaa, who evacuated to Canada with her husband, finding herself for the first time living abroad without the help and support of her family.

Your contributions, no matter how small, could change the life of 3 families and irradiate out up to 14 people (5 of which children under the age of 8) giving them the help they need: access to medical care, support, and the foundation to rebuild their homes and lives in Gaza again one day.

May God bless you,

Motaz

Here is a message to you all from Ahmed:

"Let me tell you a bit about myself and my family. My name is Ahmed and I’m a 40 years old Digital Transformation Professional. I got a bachelor's degree in engineering and a Master of Science from the University of Southampton. I’m a cancer patient who is still fighting his battle. But first and foremost I’m a husband to Hebaa and a father to my three kids: Hanaa (8 y/o), Siraj (6 y/o), and little Saji (3 y/o).

I’m the sole breadwinner for my young family and the carer of my parents Mohamed (71 y/o), Hanaa (64 y/o) and Sister Saja (24 y/o) who suffers from epilepsy and learning disability.

Ahmed during cancer follow up clinic

I consider myself a driven and resilient person, and I have worked at my dream career for over 19 years since starting out in 2005. I’ve always been on the honour list in my academic studies and pushed hard to build the life I envisioned, working days and nights to build my home for my family; a process that took over 10 years to complete.

Unfortunately, my house, my belongings and the simple and happy life I envisioned have been destroyed during this war on Gaza.

Our house now

The day we received the news about losing our home was one of the hardest days of my life - and I say this as a cancer patient who went through tough therapies and surgeries.

My wife and I were in shock. Where are we going to go? How can we move on in life, without the prospect of coming back home? When everything is over, how can we and our children heal?

We were devastated, crushed by the weight of all the logistics of survival without a home. We didn’t expect our children's reaction to the news. They were as distraught as us. They started recalling every dear object, every corner and the memories that it brought with such details that surprised me. How aware and attached they are of our dear home despite their young age.

I can’t ever forget how Siraj broke down in tears at the news. We were in Khan Younis, one of the many places of displacement places we had to travel to multiple times in just a few months. We told him about the house and he burst into tears with a pain that no 6 years old should ever know. His pain was like a sharp knife in our hearts as parents. Witnessing my children's pain and suffering was doubling the pain of our loss.

Siraj showed great maturity while dealing with the pain. They all did. That was just enough for me to be able to pretend to be holding on, but we were shattered from within. My whole life savings have become null in a split of a second. All our memories and belongings have disappeared. This house is the only home my family ever knew. Where my marriage started and where my children moved their first steps. The place I filled with little memories from my travels and my wife’s books and craft projects.

My favourite one was a pair of gloves, still dirty after landing from a skydiving launch I did in Surrey UK in 2012. I never washed the soil and the dust from them and kept them for 12 years. I guess I just really wanted to keep them as a relic and pass it on to Hanaa, Siraj and Saji. A symbol of hope and opportunity, of everything that they can accomplish if they have enough courage to take the leap.

This house is not just bricks. It is home, our home. It was the place where my family and I shared our most beloved memories: the birth of my children; their successes and little achievements; a place to get together with my parents and sisters, who would often come to visit.

It comes to memory our last birthday party for my daughter Hanaa in January 2023 (only months before our home was destroyed), an occasion that was sweetened by the visit of my brother from the UK who managed to travel back to visit for the first time in ten years with his wife. In that living room, lightened up with rows of balloons and trays of sweets for my little girl, we had a picture all together.

It’s difficult to grasp on to those memories now. Our home is gone. None of the gifts for my children is left, and none of their treasured possessions or cherished toys were saved.

Despite how difficult this was, I talked about our home with my kids, to alleviate the pain of displacement since October. I asked them to imagine what they would like to improve in our house when we will rebuild it, a future to look forward to. A seed to let them harvest hope.

Hanaa and Siraj were very enthusiastic at the idea of helping design their ideal bedrooms; I was amazed to see how attached to the idea they were, and how particular with the colours and space organisation they got while drawing their future rooms. They even planned little homes for their toys, because in their mind that’s what every toy needs and deserves.

Hanaa and Siraj dancing dabke (January 2023)

Hanaa (8) is my little artist and a pink enthusiast. In her plans, she wish for a bunk bed so that the bottom part could transform into her very own art studio. She imagined canvasses and coloured areas to host her tools, a place to hang her creations, and storage for her crafts. She is a very crafty person. She loves to make accessories, beads jewellery, and necklaces, for everyone.

Siraj (6) is my inventor, very into cars and robots. He reminds me of myself as a kid. He was very specific when he drew his room, he wanted a car-shaped bed with “real” buttons and a dashboard, but he also wanted a top-bunk bed with a slide (because he is always in a hurry and doesn’t want to be late) and a desk underneath, with a toolbox for his robot making endeavours.

Saji (3) is my little angel. I thought he might be too young to grasp the request or draw his room, instead, he surprised me with his ideas. He is very clever and knows what is going on. He takes huge inspiration from his brother and sister, sometimes favouring pens and colours, sometimes building things, and sometimes just wanting to be a cat like his aunt’s Saja pet cat Thomas. He expressed to me that he wanted a bed made of Lego bricks, but for the time being he agreed to share a bunk bed with his brother settling for the lower half.

Saji playing construction during displacement in Rafah (2024)

As Palestinians, we are overly aware of the importance of our history. When everything works against us erasing and absorbing our culture, our cuisine, our traditional dresses, our olive trees, and our identity, we hold dear all our memories and our homes, as they are the last stronghold for us.

Please help us re-establish a safe home where my children can remember everything they have lost while building their own brighter future.

I have lost 20 years of my life and hard work. Help me rebuild what’s left of my little family’s memories, Hanaa’s dream to become an artist, Siraj’s dream to become an inventor, and Saji’s dream of becoming a cat or whatever he would love to be when he grows up.

Your donations will be used to help me build a new home for my family, help me find proper and important follow-up for my cancer, and help my elderly parents rebuild their home and their lives while taking care of my sister's future.

Please feel free to help with a donation, or by sharing our campaign among your circles or in fundraising events.

We are forever grateful for every little help."