"Under the rubble, I live — help Hassan."

"I’m Hassan... Telling You My Story from Under the Rubble"

My name is Hassan Sheikh Khalil, I’m 22 years old, and I’m from Gaza.

Maybe my voice doesn’t reach far, but today, I want to share my story — hoping it reaches someone with a kind heart.

I used to live with my family in a small home — full of love and warmth.

My older brother, Zuhdi, may God have mercy on him, was my strength.

He supported the family. He was the one I turned to when I was tired or broken.

But the war took him from us...

He was martyred, and I never even got to say goodbye — not the way people should say goodbye to those they love.

After Zuhdi died, everything fell on my shoulders.

Our house was partially destroyed. The walls that once protected us are cracked and broken.

The neighborhood I used to play in is now filled with ash and silence.

But I didn’t leave — because we have nowhere else to go.

And because now... I have to be the one who stays standing.

Today, I’m responsible for my sick mother and my little sister, who asks me every night,

“Why didn’t Zuhdi come back?”

I run around every day looking for any kind of work.

Sometimes I find nothing.

Sometimes I come home with empty hands — but a heart full of pain.

Hunger has become part of our daily life.

Exhaustion is the new normal.

I often don’t eat, just to leave more food for my mother and sister.

But honestly? I’m tired. Really tired.

Every day, I walk through the rubble and speak to myself,

“Zuhdi... if only you were still here, everything would be easier.

But you’re gone... and I have to keep going alone.”

I’m not sharing this for pity.

I’m sharing it because we’re human.

We’re not just numbers or headlines on the news.

I’m a young man with a dream — but no opportunity.

With a heart — full of pain.

I’m Hassan Sheikh Khalil, from Gaza.

Living under siege, under rubble...

But still trying to stand tall — even if it’s just me.

Please help me and my family.

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