Help Ibrahim and his family survive in Gaza

Hello to everyone with humanity in this world,

I speak to you from Gaza, a place that has been utterly destroyed by the occupation. Will we, the citizens, survive this death and destruction? By God's will, I survived the previous four wars on Gaza, but this war is completely different. In the coming days, we may no longer be among you; death may take us, just as it has taken my friends and relatives.

My name is Ibrahim Hamad, a 30-year-old from Beit Hanoun in Gaza. I am married with three daughters: Tulin, Mariam, and Juwan.



I have never had a permanent job and have struggled a lot to learn and start my own business to secure a decent life for my family. I began working as a plumber, putting in a lot of effort to live without any shortages. A year before the war, our lives settled in the house that I worked so hard to build in 2019. It cost me $50,000 to build and furnish, and my work was my source of income. But the war has deprived us of that, leaving us unable to enjoy even the simplest of lives, which is a basic human right.

This world has become a desolate place, watching us die every day, unable even to save our children. I wish the children could ascend to heaven during the war and return when it's over. I am powerless, watching them die before my eyes with my hands tied. So, to the world, with all my despair, I beg you to help us survive, to live at least a simple, safe life without death, without destruction, without bloodshed, without harsh, grueling, deadly daily suffering.

On the first day of the second month of the war, my neighborhood was bombed, and my house, along with the houses of my brothers nearby, was damaged. This marks the end of the dreams we built with our own hands over the long years we lived. We worked so hard for what we achieved, only for everything to be destroyed with the push of a button. Our dreams ended, and the beautiful moments we shared with our siblings and family were shattered. Afterward, tears flowed from our eyes from the intense crying, and the pain in our hearts did not go away.

I belong to a loving and close-knit family. I live with my elderly parents, my father, who is 79 years old, and my mother, who is 70, as well as my children and my loving wife. I haven't even mentioned our displacement from Beit Hanoun. We fled to an area called Jabalya Camp, staying at my niece's house for five days. On our last day there, the occupation heavily bombed the area, injuring women and children, and they lost their lives, becoming fragments before our eyes. By a great miracle, we were saved. I couldn't leave the bombing site for a safer place because of my elderly parents, who are unable to flee quickly from such intense destruction. I had to send my wife and children away in the middle of the night, alone. They went to a nearby hospital, and I couldn't communicate with them due to the poor network in the area. I left them that day in extreme fear and tears because of my helplessness, and I couldn't leave my parents alone. When morning came and things calmed down a bit, I went to find my wife and children and took them to southern Gaza.

Despite all the sorrow that has filled our hearts, we still have a positive outlook on the coming days of our lives. The occupation forced us to flee from the northern part of Gaza to the south with their heavy bombing and aggression. We went to Deir al-Balah in the south and headed to a shelter, which is a school. We stayed in one of the classrooms.

(This school was originally meant for educating children, but due to the occupation, it has become a shelter for thousands of displaced people, and children have been left without education.)

We suffered greatly from this brutal aggression. On the day we arrived at the shelter to live in safety, we found ourselves in a place with nothing, and I had nothing to live on. My children were crying in fear, and my entire family was struggling without anything, except for heavy hearts, troubled minds, empty stomachs, dense fog, and very long nights filled with sadness, the loss of loved ones, wind, rain, and bone-piercing cold. We had no blankets, no warmth, no flooring—this is how we wait for death.

We all need medical and psychological care to at least alleviate some of this pain. This is also due to the spread of diseases, lack of clean water, limited food, and unsanitary conditions because of the overcrowding in the shelter. My children contracted contagious hepatitis, and I struggled greatly to treat them due to the lack of medicine and medical supplies.

To the world, do we deserve all this, or do we deserve a dignified life like any other human being in this world? We don't want to live just to survive; we don't want to live like animals that only think about food and drink. We want to live with dignity and freedom, and I am full of hope and optimism that your support and help will show that we deserve a better life.

So, I ask you to help us with this campaign, which aims to raise $50,000. This will cover the necessary permits and crossing fees required to leave Gaza after the opening of the Rafah border crossing, which was closed by the occupation. The cost is approximately $5,000 per person, and we are seven people, totaling $35,000. Additionally, $5,000 is needed to secure housing, buy clean clothes, and ensure food and drink for at least the first few days.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read and listen to my story. You are not obligated to help, but we are full of hope that you will help us, and we hope to live a life free from bombing, death, destruction, and also free from constant hunger and thirst, and to secure a clean life for my young children who have suffered from psychological disorders and autism. Therefore, we need to live in peace and tranquility.

Thank you for listening.

Ibrahim Hamad