Hello, my name is Ghada, and I’m originally from Gaza but living in the Uk for several years now. I am writing with a heart full of grief and hope. I am asking for your compassion to help my family in Gaza survive the devastation of this war.

My family — my mother Noha, my father Mohamed, my sisters Rana, Rania, Raghad, and my youngest brother Yousef — are living through unbearable conditions that no human being should endure.

My father is gravely ill. He suffers from heart disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure. Each day without proper medicine and care puts his life at greater risk. My mother, despite her cartilage damage in her back and neck and unbearable pain in her knees and hands, has been the pillar of strength, caring for my father and my siblings even as her own body fails her.

Before the war, our life was simple and filled with hope. Rana, my eldest sister, carries the warmest heart. She is a teacher, a nurturer of children, a shaper of young minds, and a builder of generations. Rania, my other sister, is brilliant. She graduated in renewable energy engineering, always ranking first in her class. She dreamed of building a future where clean energy could bring light to people’s homes. And then there is Raghad, my youngest sister, who should now be preparing for university. Instead, after breaking her leg, she was denied proper treatment because of the severe shortage of medicine. For weeks she remained without care, until doctors finally agreed to place her leg in a cast.

My little brother Youssef should be in school, learning how to read, write, and explore history. Instead, Israel has stolen his childhood, forcing him into child labor. He spends his days carrying sacks of flour and heavy goods, returning home exhausted at ten at night.

But since October 7, everything has changed. Their world collapsed overnight.

They were forced to flee their home and everything they had built, evacuating again and again — first to the south of Gaza, then to Rafah, and later to Deir Al Balah. Each time they left behind the little stability they managed to cling to, carrying nothing but fear and exhaustion. They found themselves living in tents, exposed to the cold, the rain, and the hunger.

I cannot describe to you the pain of hearing my mother’s voice, trembling as she speaks of the nights spent under a thin sheet of plastic while bombs thundered in the distance. Of the days where clean water was more precious than gold, when my brother Yousef would stand in endless lines, carrying heavy gallons for miles, until his young body broke down and he suffered a prolapsed disc. He is only a boy, yet he has had to become the “man” of the family, working when he can, carrying burdens no child should ever have to bear.

When a short ceasefire allowed them to return to Gaza City, what they found was not a home, but ruins. Their house stood as only a shell of what it once was — bare walls, empty rooms, memories buried under rubble. And yet, they chose to stay, clinging to dignity, clinging to life. They endured starvation, freezing nights, and bombs falling terrifyingly close, telling themselves that as long as they were together, they could withstand it.

But now, the situation is unbearable. The war grows more violent, food is almost impossible to find, and the cost of fleeing to a safer area is unimaginable. Rent for a single room in a safer area can reach $1,000 a month, not including transport or food. For my family, who have lost everything, this is simply impossible.

I am desperate to keep them alive. I am desperate to give them a chance to survive, to breathe, to eat, to find safety.

Your support will go directly toward giving my family what they need most:

• A roof over their heads.

• Food to eat.

• Clean water to drink.

• Medicine for my father and my mother.

• A chance for my siblings to survive this nightmare.

My family are not just numbers in the news. They are parents who gave everything for their children, sisters with bright futures ahead of them, and a young brother who has been forced to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Please, if you can, help me protect them. Every donation, no matter how small, is life-saving. Even sharing this campaign will give us hope.

From the depths of my heart, thank you for reading, for caring, and for standing with us in this moment of despair. Your compassion may be the reason my family survives this war.

With endless gratitude,

Ghada