Hi, my name is Abigail Norris, and I'm organizing this campaign for my close friend Hamza and his family who are currently living in Gaza. Here is a message from Hamza to you:

Hello, my name is Hamza Al-Ghazali. I am a 19-year-old young man from North Gaza.

From the very first moments of my life, the sound of war was the backdrop of my childhood. I have lived through several wars, and with each one, a part of my innocence and dreams was stolen.

In the war of 2014, I was only a child, but the fear and trauma carved deep scars in my heart. That experience left me with Type 1 Diabetes, a condition I have been battling every single day since then. It requires constant care and medicine, which is often beyond my reach in these circumstances.

Yet, despite everything, I have never let go of hope. I have always been ambitious, believing that somehow a brighter future awaits me. My greatest refuge has been music. I play the oud and I love to sing. For me, music is not just a hobby — it is my sanctuary, my therapy, and my way of escaping the harsh reality around me. When I play or sing, I feel alive again. I feel that even amidst destruction, beauty still exists.

I had always dreamed of becoming a university student by now, just like any other young person my age. But instead of sitting in classrooms, I am struggling every day simply to survive. My family and I (we are five members) are living under unbearable conditions.

This war is unlike any that came before — it is the most brutal and devastating. It has stripped us of everything: safety, stability, education, and even the simple hope of tomorrow.

I never thought I would one day have to ask the world for help. I have always tried to endure in silence. But today, I am left with no choice. We are in desperate need of support for:

Even the smallest donation can make a difference for me and my family. And if you are unable to give, please consider sharing this campaign with others who might be able to help.

I truly believe that my voice and my music are my language to the world — a way to tell the story of Gaza: to remind everyone that we are still here, that we are still alive, and that our dreams, though wounded, are not dead.

From the depths of my heart, thank you for standing with me. Your support gives me strength to believe my future is still possible — that one day I will return to my studies, continue to play my music, and build a life of dignity for myself and my family.