The Struggle for Safety and Survival: Your Help is Our Only

My name is Fayez Al-Kafarna, and I am from northern Gaza, Palestine.

I am 28 years old, and I am a computer engineer. I studied at the Islamic University of Gaza.

Before the war, I lived a normal life with my dear wife, Amal, who is 27, and our three children—Zain-Aldeen, who is 7, Mohammad, who is 5, and Alma, our little girl who is not yet two.

I owned a small business and we had a beautiful home.

‎‏But that all changed one dark morning.

‎‏ On the morning of October 7, 2023 The sound of explosions shattered the quiet of northern Gaza. In the midst of the chaos and the deafening blasts surrounding us, my family and I tried to escape from the brutal reality we were facing.

‎‏We struggled to walk through streets filled with rubble, desperately seeking shelter as we moved south.

‎‏During our harrowing journey, we met another family—samar, a 26-year-old girl, her 16-year-old sister Ghazal, and her young brother , not even five years old. They had been separated from their parents in the chaos of the bombardment.

Together, we continued our trek southward, hoping to find some form of safety.

‎‏When we arrived in the southern part of Gaza, we were left in the open—no homes, no shelters, no safety. I did my best to gather any cloths I could find and built a makeshift tent for both families.

‎‏This "tent" offered no protection from the heat or the cold, and was overrun with insects and flies.

‎‏And so, I became the sole provider for both families, a caretaker for the children in the absence of their parents.

‎‏One day, as was often the case, I took my son Mohammad with me to the market to buy some food. In that moment, the sound of drones overhead was followed by the sudden burst of gunfire. The next thing I knew, shrapnel struck my head, and Mohammad was injured in his legs.

‎‏We were rushed to the field hospital set up by the International Medical Commission, where we were immediately taken into surgery. The doctors did their best to save us, but Mohammad's injuries were severe. He now urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

‎‏Since then, we have been receiving treatment, but the pain and trauma we are enduring are far from over.

‎‏Meanwhile, the new family I am responsible for continues to face unimaginable challenges.

We are suffering from a severe shortage of food, clean water, clothing, hygiene supplies, and medical care.

‎‏My story is not just about displacement—it is a story of hope and resilience, filled with pain and struggle, and the relentless fight for survival.

Two displaced families have come together under one roof, trying to cope with our sorrow and grief while supporting each other.

We are bound together not just by our hardships, but by the belief that one day, a brighter dawn will come.

‎‏Meeting our basic needs—food, shelter, medical care—is not a matter of charity. It is a matter of survival and dignity.

‎‏So, I humbly ask you to think of us, and to share our story with your friends and family.

Raise awareness, and encourage them to help in whatever way they can.

‎‏Your donation—no matter how small—will make a meaningful difference in our lives and restore hope to our hearts in these exhausting times.

‎‏Thank you for your kindness and support. ❤