Stand with my brother Hossam's Family in Need

My name is Abir Elzowidi, and I live in Los Angeles, CA.

My brother, Hossam, has always been my hero, taking care of me and protecting me when we were young, until I was lucky enough to come to the US in 1997. He taught me by example to care and lend a hand to anyone in need, never to turn my back on anyone asking for help, and to keep my promises despite any challenges.

Like so many others, Hossam’s wife and four children have lived under terrifying conditions because of the war in Gaza. The bombs all severely injured them, dropped where they resided in Jabalya in Northern Gaza, and they have been displaced 10 times since October 7th. They weren’t able to evacuate to Egypt when the Rafah crossing was open, because he and his 13-year-old son Muayyad were hospitalized with very severe injuries. He declared to me that he was determined to survive the war and keep his family safe. I promised that I would do everything I could to get them out as soon as there was a ceasefire, and they could leave Gaza.

They need funds to pay for travel documents to cross into Egypt, to pay for surgeries, and to remove the numerous pieces of shrapnel from their children. Then, they can seek refugee status in a safe place. Please — help me to keep my promise to Hossam and his family. They survived this horror!

Together, we can support them in starting new lives and recovering from the damages and losses they faced due to the war.

Let Hossam tell you his story:

My daughter Malak is 9 years old in our tent.

My name is Hossam Alzweidi, I am 50 years old, and married to Mariam. We have four children. Salah (19), Mumen (16), Muayyad (15), and Malak (9).

Before the war, I was able to provide for my family by working as a manager at the Beit Hanoun Municipal Office. Since the war began, there has been no work and no safety. Because it has been impossible to move safely in the streets, we stay wherever we can until it becomes too dangerous. Then, we move again.

One night in the North, we heard the sound of intense, close shelling. Flames and smoke erupted where neighbors were staying. One day, the upper floor of the building we stayed in was bombed. My children all had serious injuries, much bleeding, and were so brave as we took the risk to go outside. Someone got ambulances that took us all to the hospital, where they could still do X-rays and stitch up our injuries.

My son Muayyad was in critical condition with injuries to his head, eye, neck, chest, and arms. Thankfully, the hospital still had anesthesia and an operating room, but also so many people needing help. They stopped the bleeding, and he survived, but doctors were so busy they had to leave the shrapnel in his body, even though it was so painful and caused ongoing bleeding and infections.

My 15-year-old son Muayyad's's injuries

I used to volunteer at the tents around us, providing aid and assistance to those dressing wounds and offering any other services. However, my injuries made it impossible for me to be helpful for very long.

We became homeless, like so many others, so we decided to sleep in the Kamal Edwan hospital garden. We miraculously survived, often without blankets, medicines, or food. Disease, distress, and the smell of death -everywhere. We have been directed to leave so many places, each destroyed. Everything we’ve known is gone, and in front of us is destruction. Gaza is unlivable.

My daughter, Malak, is in the tent after we lost our home.

But today holds hope. There is a truce and a chance to ask for help. We have survived to see this hope. We are thankful for this great relief.

Our destroyed house