Help Us Escape Gaza: A Mother's Plea for Safety

My name is Nada Saftawi, a dedicated teacher, artist, and proud Palestinian mother of three beautiful children: Hala, Reema, and Zuhdi. I used to live in the heart of Gaza, in the serene Reema neighborhood, known for its elegance and cherished by its residents. Our lives were full of dreams and ambitions, especially after I completed my master's degree. My daughter Hala, who shares my zest for life, and I often dreamed of achieving great things together. Reema, with her brilliant mind and love for physics and English, was destined to be a scientist. And my mischievous son Zuhdi, who holds my heart, was my constant source of joy.

But on the morning of October 7th, our world was turned upside down. Our dreams were shattered as the news of war and destruction in Gaza spread across the globe. The Rimal neighborhood, once a haven, became a target of relentless bombing. We were forced to flee our home, clutching onto each other as we sought refuge. We found temporary shelter at Al-Shifa Hospital, but soon even that sanctuary was compromised. The hospital became a place of chaos and danger, forcing us to flee once more.

With no other options, we joined countless others, making the arduous journey on foot to southern Gaza, walking nearly 10 kilometers to reach Khaldiya School in Khan Younis. Our path was fraught with terror as we faced Israeli military checkpoints, their guns pointed at us, our hearts pounding with fear. We clung to each other, trying to protect my children from the terrifying reality around us.

There, we found temporary shelter, and I volunteered to help other displaced families, trying to bring a bit of hope and smiles to the children, including my own. But even Khan Younis was not safe. The bombing followed us, and we were forced to flee again, this time to Rafah, where we huddled in tents, exposed to the elements, and struggling to survive.

In Rafah, we faced hunger and desperation, competing with animals for scraps of food. Just as we thought it couldn’t get worse, Rafah too came under attack. We had no choice but to move again, now finding ourselves in Al-Mawasi, living under the scorching sun in makeshift tents, praying for mercy and a way out. Tragically, my son Zuhdi contracted hepatitis from the contaminated water, adding to our unimaginable suffering.

I have started this campaign out of sheer desperation, hoping to escape this relentless cycle of war and start anew in Egypt. The cost of evacuating through the Rafah border is exorbitant—$5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child. I can barely provide for my children’s daily needs, let alone afford such a staggering sum. This is why I am reaching out to the world, to the kind-hearted people who can help us find safety and a chance to rebuild our lives.

Attached are photos of my children and some of my artworks. Your generosity could give us the chance to live in peace, to dream again, and to start over. Please, help us escape the horrors of war and find a new beginning.

With deepest gratitude,

Nada Saftawi