Help Ahmed and his family survive Genocide

Hello,

My name is Ahmed Abed. I completed my Master's degree in Archaeology from Durham University in the United Kingdom during 2004-2005.

Before October 7th, we had so many plans. I was working on my doctoral degree at Kocaeli University in Turkey, and my son had already completed two years of medical school, an endeavor that required great effort and endurance. My daughter was preparing for her final year of high school, filled with energy and ambition as she planned her future and considered which college she wanted to attend. Both my son and daughter are incredibly talented. They play basketball and volleyball at the Gaza Sports Club, and my daughter was even part of the dabke team at the Qattan Centre.

On the morning of October 7th, our lives were completely upended when we received an evacuation order. We moved several times, desperately searching for safety, but the constant bombing made the situation unbearable. It was terrifying. Three days later, we were ordered to evacuate again, this time from the north to the south of the Gaza Strip. We tried to stay at our home, but after it was bombed and we narrowly escaped death, we fled into the streets, gripped by fear and panic. People were running in terror, and there were no cars to take us south. We walked from the north of Gaza to the central region-a journey filled with fear and unimaginable loss.

The decision to leave our home, our belongings, and all our memories behind was anything but easy. I wished I could carry my memories accompanied with my home on my back. I will never forget the moment I closed the door not knowing it will be the last time. I promised my home I would return, but I couldn't keep that promise. Who says houses aren’t alive? They shared us with our souls, and they carry the same memories we hold dear.

After we arrived in Deir al-Balah, a completely different era of our lives began-one filled with hunger, displacement, thirst, and deprivation. There is no essentials, no food, and no water. Every day is spent in a relentless struggle to find the basic necessities of life. We survive on canned food, we weren’t eating we were consuming the worst forms of whatever can fill our hunger. And when the real edible food appears, they are scarce and extremely expensive, beyond our reach after losing everything we owned in our bombed home.

Searching for water became a major ordeal. We are forced to reuse water multiple times, and with no electricity, laundry has to be done by hand, also we drink contaminated water because we have no other choice. One day, my son went out to look for water, and a bombing happened nearby. Terrified, I rushed to find him, searching through the chaos. I will never forget sitting and crying with relief when I found him alive. This type of reality nightmares happened quite often. Nowhere is safe as you can be injured or killed at any moment.

We rely on wood, leaves, and even garbage to make fires for cooking and baking bread. Risking my family and I to several COPDs or even god forbid lung cancer.

Nightfall brings its own misery, with total darkness and the constant fear of bombings. We've lost so close friends, neighbors, relatives, and the childhood friends of my children during nighttime and many others during days. My daughter lost her best friend and still struggles to cope, and my son has lost many of his friends as well. My wife suffer from Crohn’s disease, and with the lack of medication and food, her condition has worsened.

I don't understand why I'm enduring all of this suffering. I never planned for my life to turn out this way. This pain was forced upon me. My children are trying to continue their studies through e-schools, but they can’t because their laptops were left behind in our bombed home. We lost our money and everything we had. I don’t know which will be faster the end of this fear and suffering or our own end of our life story.

Thank you,