A Human from Gaza

My friends on X, I need ur help For two years, I've given everything I have to other people's children, building schools, keeping classrooms running, making sure Gaza's students still had someone showing up for them. I would do it all again. But I've never asked for anything for my own family until now, and that hasn't been easy to sit with. We've been displaced more than once. We've lost people. And right now, the work I do for others doesn't cover what my own wife and children need, a roof, mainly, something steady in the middle of everything that isn't. I'm not asking out of despair. I'm asking because after two years of carrying this for my community, I've learned that asking for help isn't a failure, it's what makes the rest of it possible. This is for my family: chuffed.org/project/193426-g… If you can give, thank you. If you can only share it, that matters too, it's one more way of saying we're not carrying this alone.

For those who care: Gaza’s markets are still stocked with calorie-dense foods of little nutritional value, such as soft drinks, chocolates, sweets, and crisps. While these items remain visible on market stalls, they do nothing to address the population's core dietary needs. The acute shortage centers entirely on basic staples: wheat flour and bread. Because shipments of wheat flour have been blocked from entering the strip for several days, bakeries are now on the verge of shutting down completely.

Today at @gazagreatminds , we gathered the students for cinema day and watched Tangled. Hearing their laughter, seeing their wide eyes glued to the screen, and feeling the room fill with pure, unbothered joy made my heart so full. Sometimes, the simplest moments, sitting together, sharing stories, and laughing until your cheeks hurt,are the ones that matter most. An unforgettable, truly wonderful day with these bright souls.

⭕️Sleepy world|| Israel burned alive a Palestinian mother in front of her daughter in Gaza last night. RIP Reem Awad

No man is like a father, and no father is like my dad. He was there every time I needed a hand, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like a full moon deep in the dark sky. I miss you, my dad. I miss your jokes and your smile; I miss your touch and your voice. I miss you waking me up every morning for school and getting me ready. I miss sharing secrets with you that no one else knew. I miss the times you brought me special chocolate during exams. I miss your care when I was sick. I miss the taste of the lemonade you made just for me. It is the second year without you, habibi, since an Israeli sniper shot you and the moon vanished. There are so many things I want to share with you. I wish you were here so I could tell you how Omar has grown, heading off to KG2 all by himself. I wish you could hear him speaking his first English words, and yes, he struggles with the "r" sound just like you and me. I think it’s in our DNA. I want to tell you that Kenan jumps around all day; now I finally understand why you were so worried about me doing parkour when I was a kid. And yes, Ibrahim looks just like you. He even gets nosebleeds like you did. I see you every time I look at him and call his name. We are fine, Dad, don't worry. Mom misses you so much; she tries to hide it, but so many nights her tears give her away. Your children are men and fathers now. Dad, I am so sorry I couldn't see you on the last day of your life. Wallahi, I did everything I could to reach the hospital, but the drones were shooting anyone who moved in the neighborhood. Please forgive me.

The landscape has been shattered over the last three years, but our existence has not. We still here despite everything 🇵🇸🇵🇸

Heavily strikes by IOF hit Gaza city at the moment.