Help evacuate Shaimaa and her parents from Gaza

I'm Safiya Cherfi and I am facilitating this fundraiser for Shaimaa Abulebda (who I know through 'Bookstagram' and our shared love of literature) and her parents. There are a limited number of countries that are allowed to set up fundraisers so that's why I'm helping Shaimaa, and the money that is raised I will then wire to her via Western Union as there are still some shops left in Rafah with Western Union. Read in Shaimaa's own words here:

I'm Shaimaa Abulebda from East Khan Younis, the Gaza Strip. I'm a scholar, writer, and translator. I am an English Literature lecturer at the Islamic University of Gaza (IUG).

After I got my master's in Comparative Literature from Doha Institute for Graduate Studies in 2021, I returned to Gaza. I wanted to be home for a while and do something for my community before applying for a PhD.

My father, 58 years old, worked in trade, and my mother, 56 years old, is a housewife. I have 6 sisters and 2 brothers, all of them married, so I was the only person living with my parents when everything changed.

Until the 6th of October, I was still making plans for my future, trying to make my academic dreams come true. I want to get a PhD in literature. I had two conditional offers from UK universities, and I felt so close to realise my dreams at last. I was sure my life was progressing to where I wanted it to be. I had never imagined I'd lose dreaming about my future to only attempting to survive. This is what we all want right now. To survive the atrocities and feel safe. Our priorities have changed.

Our family home in east Khan Younis brings together my 8 married siblings. To my nieces and nephews, it is the grandparents’ house. It has a garden where kids play creatively.

Because of the israeli occupation forces, I lived through the second intifada, and all the aggressions on Gaza since 2008 until this ongoing genocide. This is one way to sum up my whole life.

We had to evacuate our house on the first day of this ongoing aggression due to its proximity to the east Khan Younis borders. We didn't feel safe in the place that is meant to make us feel secure, safe, and peaceful.

My parents and I, stayed with one of my sisters, before we had to evacuate yet again. We were displaced from my sister's house to an UNRWA school near Bani Suhaila roundabout.

The return to the house was only possible during the temporary truce, 49 days later. When we stepped into the house, we found that an airstrike near our house damaged our doors and windows, in addition to leaving some walls cracked. This is my bedroom's window.

In the guest room, it was even worse, the broken glass flew everywhere. If one of us had been there at the time of the airstrike, they might have been killed or at least severely injured.

The truce fell on day 56. Hell broke on the 59th night of the genocidal war in east Khan Younis when the IOF launched a land invasion in Bani Suhaila and al-Zannah.

On the morning of day 60, we were displaced yet again, however, this time from Khan Younis to Rafah. We had to flee amid airstrikes, artillery shelling, and gunshots.

We pitched a tent for 23 people—five of my sisters, their husbands and kids—all in one tent.

Life in displacement is harrowing. We struggle to acquire every single thing, even drinking water. Everything is either unavailable or too expensive. We stand in lines for everything. We mostly eat canned food. When we find vegetables, they are insanely expensive.

We hear airstrikes and artillery shelling daily. Sometimes they are terrifyingly close. Drones, quadcaptors, F16s, F35s, and all kinds of warplanes fly over us, particularly at night, at low altitudes. We are bone-deep exhausted and scared.

Media tells you numbers. They are inaccurate. The ongoing aggression is destroying our buildings and infrastructure. It is leaving its mark on every aspect of our lives. We are perpetually traumatised. Our mental and psychological health is deteriorating. My memory is weakening, particularly my short-term memory. It is intolerable to witness the effects of the genocidal assault on my parents. They had never looked old.

In addition, what pushed me to set up this fundraiser, is the current state of the education system in Gaza. As a lecturer at IUG, which was completely demolished by the israeli occupation forces, I am now left with no future vocational prospects. IOF destroyed every university in the Gaza Strip. [Source]

IOF keeps threatening to launch a full-scale assault (land invasion) on Rafah, our last refuge. We are left with nowhere to go.

To survive, we have to make the hard choice of temporarily evacuating from Gaza to Egypt, seeking safety first and foremost.

I have been financially independent for almost a decade, so the decision to setup this fundraiser was a hard one. I have been hesitant about this.

Thinking about the cost of this journey can bring one to hopelessness. To relocate only the three of us, my parents and I, we anticipate the need for paying between $5,000 and $6,000 per person just for permits and crossing, which amounts to around $18,000. [The New Arab. The Guardian] Please note that we are not including travel expenses, and rent and initial settling-in expenses. I am planning to spend money from my savings account.

This campaign is not only about financial assistance; it is a call for solidarity and empathy.

Every donation, no matter how small, will make a significant difference to our safety.

We are deeply grateful for your support and any assistance you may be able to provide during this unprecedented time. Please share this campaign with your friends, family, and colleagues so that we can reach our goal and provide safety for my family.