My name is Hamdan Obaid, a husband and a father of a humble family that once lived a simple but peaceful life in our small village. We didn’t have much, but we had stability, dignity, and hope. Every day, I worked hard to provide for my family and to keep them safe and warm.

Then, the war changed everything. It forced us to leave our home, our memories, and everything we once knew behind. Today, we are displaced and homeless, living in a broken and unsafe place with no clean water, no electricity, and no proper toilets.

My family sleeps on the cold floor. Many nights, my children go to bed hungry and shivering. We survive on one meal a day—if we are lucky. Their health is weakening because of hunger and the lack of medicine.

Every day, I go out searching for work, hoping to earn enough to buy a little food. But opportunities are rare, and most days I return empty-handed. No one asks how we live, or whether my family is still holding on.

Yet, despite the hardship, I cling to hope. I dream of a day when my family will live in a safe place, with enough food to ease their hunger and clean water to drink. I dream of seeing smiles return to my children’s faces.

This is my story. I share it with an open heart, hoping that someone will hear our cry and extend a helping hand.

May compassion find us, and may humanity unite us once again.