Farah kamal

Dear friends and supporters, Born from the depths of pain and suffering, this book emerges to tell the world the story exactly as we lived it. It is not merely words penned on paper, but a piece of the soul forged amidst agony and a yearning for justice. The Land I Live On This is a living testament that reveals the reality of Palestinian life and the injustice that has shadowed us since childhood. It vividly recounts every situation and every moment of anguish, chronicling three long years of war and existence under the weight of dispossession and genocide. Today, I proudly announce that the book is officially published! I chose the English language specifically to serve as a bridge across borders, ensuring our voice reaches every heart and conscience around the world, clear and direct. None of this would have been possible without your unwavering support, encouragement, and kindness along this journey. You can now order your copy in both digital and paperback formats: Digital Edition (eBook): Available for instant download here: https://payhip.com/b/b5iYd Paperback Edition: Available on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HL27G9FJ It is my deepest hope that this voice travels far and wide, and that the entire world learns the truth of what we are living and enduring. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for standing with me and helping me bring our story to the world. Please feel free to share these links with your friends and family! With all my gratitude, Farah Kamal

We Are Still Here… Still Waiting Sometimes I look at the sky and feel as though a thousand voices are dying inside my chest. I am still torn between a grief that silently destroys me, tears I struggle to hide, and a faint glimmer of hope that I keep reaching for in the darkness. We are still trapped in the same cycle of displacement and suffering, standing in the same place, with no idea what the coming days will bring. We feel imprisoned inside Gaza, while restrictions on the entry of essential supplies continue to tighten. Even things we desperately need, including those shown in the attached photo, are being prevented from entering. Sometimes I feel as though our lives are hanging by a thread. I may be here today, writing to you and trying to hold on to hope, but I cannot guarantee that I will still be here tomorrow. And that is what frightens me the most… that one day I may no longer be able to write to you, and I may become just another number in a news story about someone lost in Gaza. No matter how hard I try to describe the suffocation we are living through, I will never be able to give it the weight it deserves. Waking up every day not knowing what will happen to you, living between displacement, fear, and loss… is something words cannot truly carry. We are exhausted… but we are still here. Still waiting, still holding on to the smallest glimmer of hope that this nightmare will end before it takes more from us. I am Farah, and I am still here… and I still have a footprint.