The smallest act of love softens my heart

In my life, I've drowned in oceans of suffering, climbed mountains of despair, and been strangled by skies that rain death.

And still, the smallest act of love softens my heart. Even a fleeting moment of peace makes me feel safe. Please, tell our story. Don't let them erase us from the memory of the world!

A stranger contacted me just moments ago, asking about a girl who was injured at the American aid point. He told me that the girl had been shot in the head and martyred; and that this is the only information her family knows.

Her family is from the north, and they were standing next to the young man who spoke to me. They were describing their daughter to me, hoping I might be able to find her.

They said she was 17 years old, blonde, wearing a green blouse and blue pants.

They've been searching for her since yesterday, not knowing where to even begin.

The call ended, and I promised to share the details in the hospital group.

I look up at the sky, press my head in my hands, and ask: Where could she be? And where are the thousands of others who are missing?

Humanitarian aid? What the hell is humanitarian about it? Fuck their twisted, distorted, disfigured, pathetic excuse for humanity.

This morning, one of the most dehumanizing things I've seen is planes dropping aid boxes, not a single one landed anywhere near my area. Not even one. It's deliberate.

We haven't received a single food package in six months. The few trucks that do get in are looted, openly, under the watchful eyes of the IDF. They even target the guards meant to protect the aid, creating chaos so the theft can thrive. Then the stolen food is sold in markets at unreachable prices.

Don't be fooled. Gaza is still starving. People are still dying of hunger.

They show you aid drops and trucks, just to quiet your outrage, to convince the world that the famine has paused. But it hasn't. This isn't humanitarian. It's theater. A cover-up for ethnic cleansing.

Today, I had a break from work and finally found the time to go to the beach for some fresh air. While there, I went through the messages I received over the past few days. They were filled with love, compassion, and words of support. And I appreciate it! The question I hear most often is: 'How can we help? How can we support you?' So tonight, I'm sharing a post to answer that; and I hope you'll consider engaging with it.

The answer can’t fit in two lines; it needs a whole book. But if we were to write just the first two lines, they would be:

Line one: Read our stories. Watch the videos. Bear witness. Share them with your friends, your families, your neighbors, and your colleagues; so that the oppressed don’t die in silence, without a story, and without being seen.

Line two: Financial support; which every single family in Gaza needs urgently and continuously. Food and water should never be the greatest concern for someone facing annihilation; someone struggling to survive the cruelest campaign of dehumanization, by the most shameless of enemies.

So many families reach out to me, asking to share their stories; just so they can be seen, just so the world can look into their shattered humanity. And I feel the unbearable weight of their needs, and the urgent call to help them all. If you believe you can offer support; by donating, sharing their stories, or simply amplifying their voices, then start now. It may seem like a small act, but it will mean everything to those who had almost everything, and all of the sudden nothing; and it may help them survive one more day of this man-made famine, far from the American death points.

Mothers who spend their days in front of the fire, cooking for their families, shouldn't have to worry about whether there's any food to cook. Children should find bread when they ask their parents for something to eat

The following are four families; in addition to mine and 15 others, who reached out to me. Some are relatives, others are colleagues from work. All of them have children and are in urgent need of every kind of support. Kind note: Donations sent to my family’s PayPal link (in my bio) will be divided between my family and 15 other families who have already received your support twice, through me.

My niece, Ciela, who's just two, tells the world she wants milk juice that she loves with a straw. Then she screams: Open the crossing. Open the crossing. Open the crossing. Open the crossing!!!

Ciela’s father has lost both his job and his home, leaving the family in urgent need, of financial support. Support Ciela HERE.

Mahmood is my cousin. He has lost his brother, his arm, and his home. He now has three beautiful daughters who need your support.

Nedal is a sweet little boy, battling chronic liver disease. He needs proper medical care and a special diet to survive; but his family has lost both their home and their source of income.

Ahmad is my colleague at the emergency department. Help Ahmed Maher Mezeid family from Gaza.

Kind note: Donations sent to my family’s PayPal link (in my bio) will be divided between my family and 15 other families who have already received your support twice, through me.