r/International

When the war began, this child had a family, a bed, and a refrigerator stocked with food. He had a life, a neighborhood, a school, and a future.

Today, this child stands in a long queue, not waiting for a toy or an outing, but for a simple meal from a charity kitchen. He clutches a small plate as if it holds the whole world in his hand.

He looks around with a silence that belies his age, as if his childhood has been gradually taken away, giving way to something no child should ever know. Yet, he still stands… still trying to cling to what remains of an ordinary day amidst all this cruelty.

This plate is not just food; it is a sign that life hasn't ended, that there are still those who are trying to keep some humanity alive amidst all this collapse.

And though the war has taken so much, it hasn't been able to completely erase this child's desire to eat, to live, and to one day return to the home that was his, and to a childhood that should have been so much simpler.

In Gaza, we are exhausted. Three years of war have drained us mentally and physically.

My name is Osama. I’m a university student in my final year. During this war, my family and I lost our home and everything we had. We also lost many relatives and friends, and since then we have been living without any real stability.

My mother and I went back to our city more than once, trying to recover anything from under the rubble, but without success.

We left our home at night under the bombing without taking anything with us. That’s why today we need almost everything. We have no gas, no refrigerator, no proper kitchen tools, and only very few belongings left.

Life in Gaza has become unbelievably expensive, and we can barely afford basic things like food and water. For the third year, even drinking cold water has become something we miss. Especially with summer coming and the heat getting worse, sometimes we just wish for a cold drink of water.

For three years we have struggled every day just to secure basic needs. There is barely any electricity, cooking gas is extremely expensive, and prices are far beyond what people can afford. One kilogram of cooking gas costs around $35, so my mother often cooks using wood and fire. My father used to work as an electrician, but now he has no work and spends his time trying to get food aid from humanitarian organizations whenever he can.

The hardest part is not only surviving. My younger siblings grew up surrounded by war, fear, and deprivation. Now Eid Al-Adha is coming, and I cannot even provide simple things that once felt normal, like new clothes, sweets, or a good meal.

Despite all the pain, I still try to put a smile on my younger siblings’ faces, and on my mother’s and father’s faces too, even through small things that might make them happy for a little while.

In Gaza, we no longer live thinking about the future. We only try to get through one more day.

That is why I am asking for help. Any donation, even a small one, can help me bring some happiness to my family, even if only for a few days.

And if you cannot donate, sharing our story would still mean a lot to us.

Thank you to everyone who helps or even shares our story .

Donation link in the comments.

I am a mother from Gaza, 43 years old, carrying a heart full of pain that words can hardly describe. Every single day, I live holding onto a small hope that this suffering will one day end. I have four children. Before the war, we lived a simple but peaceful life filled with warmth, safety, and love. Our home was not luxurious, but it was full of laughter, comfort, and beautiful memories. My children were very ambitious and full of dreams. Each of them had hopes for a bright future, and despite the simplicity of our life, we were happy and grateful because we had peace. Then the war came… and with it came destruction that took everything from us. In one moment, our entire life changed. Our home, the place that carried all our memories and dreams, was destroyed. Schools and universities stopped, education disappeared, and years of hard work and hope were suddenly lost. We were forced to flee again and again from one place to another, carrying our fear, our children, and the little that remained of our broken lives. We experienced hunger in the cruelest way. We learned what it means for children to wait for hours just to get a piece of bread or clean water. We lived through nights of bombing, terror, and sleepless fear, never knowing if we would survive until morning. I saw fear in my children’s eyes every single day, and I tried to appear strong for them while my heart was breaking silently inside. We lost our home, our work, our stability, and the life we once knew. I became unable to provide even the most basic necessities for my children food, clean water, clothes, and medicine. The most painful feeling for me as a mother is not being able to protect my children or give them the life they deserve. That is why, with deep hesitation and heartbreak, I created a support link asking for help. I never imagined I would one day need to ask others for assistance, but the circumstances forced us into survival mode. Every single dollar donated is withdrawn immediately to provide food, water, and basic needs so my children and I can survive another day. For two long years, I have been asking for help and knocking on every door I can, carrying both shame and desperation in my heart. But I do this only for my children so they do not sleep hungry, and so they can still hold onto hope that life may become kinder one day. From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply grateful to every person who supported us, whether through a donation, sharing our story, or even a kind word and prayer. You cannot imagine how much your support means to us or how much strength it gives us to keep going despite everything. To everyone reading my story, I ask you kindly not to scroll past our pain. We are not asking for luxury or comfort we are simply trying to survive, to live with dignity, safety, and peace like every other human being. After God, you are our only hope. 🤍

Footage shows two injured sheep trapped beneath the vehicle before the settlers drove away. This is how they abuse Palestinians that have signed peace deals this is supposed to be PLO governed territory which they have signed "peace" deals with Israel decades ago.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DYegl5aExTO/

Land defendors blocked both lanes of the highway until law enforcement was dispatched to the area to clear the highway. Checkpoints were also opened on the highway leading to the uranium mine by law enforcement. After the rally was ended, law enforcement and unmarked vehicles were seen entering the site.

Source: The Anti–Uranium Mapping Project

Ig: antiuraniummappingproject

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DYdR4hjvtEj/OHY1YWVnbzY0Y2l3

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DYdi2CNsojq/MXE4YndlOGFyZDVrcA==

​

Today, the temperature reached 35°C, and the sun was beating directly onto the tents. We woke up early in the morning because of the intense heat, and by noon the weather had become unbearable, to the point that we were forced to leave the tents and sit outside.

I went and sat under a tree inside the camp, but while carrying water I suffered from heatstroke, and my head is still hurting badly from the front and back.

How long will our situation remain like this? And when will we finally live a dignified life? Our youth is being drained before our eyes, and every day we grow older surrounded by pain and endless suffering. How long will we keep talking about this agony? I used to post every single day, yet nothing changes in our reality. We are exhausted from complaining, exhausted from this life that has become an indescribable hell.

Every day we live the same routine: carrying water, lighting fires, and searching for the most basic necessities of life. Even fire itself has become another form of suffering beyond words.

Today, my mother spent long hours cooking over fire while we could barely endure the heat of the weather itself. I suffered heatstroke from the extreme temperature, so how about my mother, who sat beside the fire all that time?

I swear to God, Gaza has become the greatest prison of suffering in the world. If we were given the choice between what we are living through now and staying inside a prison, prison would feel easier. At least there is water, food, and a place that protects a person far better than a tent. Perhaps there is electricity and bathrooms too. Most importantly, a prisoner lives knowing that one day the sentence will end, counting the days while waiting for freedom.

But we live in continuous torment with no clear horizon and no known future. We live in uncertainty, and death can come at any moment. Bombings and assassinations never stop, and you may die while simply walking down the street without having done anything wrong.

And this is only a small part of the hell we live in, without even speaking about the flies, mosquitoes, rats, bedbugs, and the diseases spreading in ways that cannot be described.

What sin did we commit to deserve this life? Since October 7, we have been living in a real hell.

Will there ever come a day when we are free from all this suffering? Will there come a day when we tell you that we are finally living a dignified life, just as we once told you about this hell?