Known By Many Names

Since doing professional research with academic training, I've realized that what I thought I knew was dependent on biased, outdated, and generally wrong historiography. Those books I read are incorrect in multiple ways, and I didn't know how badly until I was doing the research myself.

The point is: having a special interest may (and doesn't have to) make you read everything there is about something. But that might lead you to read old things or outdated things or things that are debated without necessarily having the ability to parse what is and isn't good information because you're just glad that it's about Your Thing. It does not make you an expert or even necessarily a discerning reader because the good feelings while reading a Wiki or an old book can make you less critical.

A good example is that of lobotomies. Experts have always insisted that it is healthy, to the point of some being psychotic enough to believe that stabbing someone's head should be paid for by the government, but food shouldn't. I really do know that they're just trying to save people, so maybe getting firsthand experience with themselves would be the fastest way of teaching experts that the brain should not be stabbed. But usually, scholarship teaches what is popular, which is usually hiding something.

For example, Einstein's descendent was sliced because it was too perfect. But we all pretend that he was appreciated by Americans. But they even lowered his known IQ. and some hospitals intentionally do awake brain surgery, and they pretend that they're healing them.

I lost my children to murderers who aborted them, multiple times, but I can still appreciate a doctor who risks himself for the choices and ability to choose of his patients.

Rest peacefully, Doctor.

Last night was a very difficult night. There was bombing everywhere. We never imagined that we would be alive in the morning.

80% of the residents of Khan Yunis are now being asked to evacuate their homes and head towards the coast New evacuation areas are shaded in red.

We are now in Square 111, very close to the evacuation areas that are being bombed and annihilated from now on, and sooner or later we will be asked to evacuate our areas and head to the sea coast.

My friends, I may be able to contact you today, but it seems that I will not be able to reach you in the next few days, so please share our post on my behalf and donate to us if you can.

Please pray for our safety. I promise to keep fighting to keep my family and I alive. I hope that God grants us safety.

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.