Tired

My name is Mosab, and I’m writing this with honesty and humility.

I live in Gaza, where war has taken nearly everything from me — my home, my safety, and 25 members of my family, including my beloved mother, siblings, and their children. I’ve been displaced multiple times. Every day here is a struggle to survive.

In the face of this, I turned to the internet — not because I wanted to beg, but because I truly had no other way.

🧭 What Happened

A few months ago, a friend helped me create a GoFundMe campaign: 🔗 https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-me-saving-whos-left-of-my-family

Unfortunately, I could not continue working with the person who set it up. As a result, it was closed — and I had to start over again, this time on Chuffed, where I could manage everything myself.

I am the same person behind both campaigns — same story, same face, same truth. I only changed platforms to regain control and transparency.

💔 Why I Created Multiple Campaigns

I didn’t just make one campaign. I also helped create campaigns for my loved ones:

My wife Nadin, who’s caring for our 11-month-old daughter in these terrible conditions

My brother Abedmajed, and his wife Saja

My nephew Naser lost his mother (my sister) and his sister in a missile strike that hit our family home. That same strike also killed:

My mother

My other sister

My older brother, his wife and their daughters - all gone

My uncle, his wife, their sons, and grandchildren — all erased as well

That home was the heart of our family. And in one moment, it was gone — along with so many people I loved.

Naser, still a teenager, now takes care of his three younger brothers alone. His life — like mine — was shattered in an instant.

We are all in Gaza. We are all real. And we are all trying to rise, together.

⚠️ My Mistake

At the beginning, I made a big mistake.

I was so desperate to get our stories seen that I created multiple Tumblr accounts to send messages and reach more people. I didn’t understand that this would upset users or lead to the campaigns being flagged as spam.

I see now how that felt for others. And I am deeply sorry.

I never meant to deceive or annoy anyone. I was simply trying to survive — and to help my family survive. But I know now that good intentions don’t excuse bad methods.

🔁 What I’m Doing Now

I’ve spoken directly with Chuffed.

I’ve closed all old campaigns.

I’m keeping this account — @mosabsdr — moving forward.

I will be creating new, respectful, honest campaigns for myself and my loved ones.

I will reach out to GazaVetters again to explain and hopefully clear any misunderstandings.

🌱 Moving Forward

From this point on, everything I share will come from the heart — no pressure, no spamming, no noise. Just our truth, told with honesty and dignity.

If you’ve followed me, donated, or shared anything in the past: thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you were hurt or bothered by how I reached out before — I truly understand. I hope you can see that I’m learning, and trying to do better.

This war has destroyed so much — but we are still here, and we are still rising.

If you wish to stay with us on this journey, I welcome you with deep gratitude. If not, I still thank you for reading and giving me your time.

I was there with my mother, my sister, and my three younger brothers.

When the missile hit, everything turned to smoke, blood, and silence.

My mother and sister were killed instantly.

My brothers and I were pulled from the rubble, injured — but alive.

Moments later, my father arrived at the hospital.

He didn’t know if any of us had survived. He ran through the halls, searching.

Al Jazeera Mubasher filmed that exact moment — the moment he found us.

This video isn’t easy to watch. But it’s the truth.

It’s the moment my father found his sons alive…

and learned that his wife and daughter were gone.

source:

https://www.instagram.com/share/_qqk5pMrz

I’m sharing this not to cause pain, but because I want people to understand what we’ve lived through.

This isn’t just a story. It’s our life.

It’s the moment that changed everything.

I’m still here. I’m trying to raise my brothers now.

We are trying to rebuild something from what was taken.

If you can help — even with a share — thank you

Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.

Then the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home. 25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.

We were displaced twice after that. Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.

But she came into the world quietly and beautifully. And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.

We don’t know what comes next. There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.

🧡 How You Can Help

This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival. To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.

If you can spare anything, it will help us:

Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal

Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none

My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account. Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza. The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 245 shekels — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.

🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me

I want to share more than my need. Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war. They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.

They may not be perfect, but they hold something real: my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.

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.

the friend who received this is too nice to say something about it but i have reached a point now where i have seen them receive so many messages like this that i just can't keep my mouth shut anymore

this is straight up evil behaviour. whatever lighthearted tone this anon thought they were sending this with, i don't care. it's gross in every sense.

i'm speaking directly to whoever sent this now and frankly, if you follow me, non, unfollow me right fucking now because i don't want this energy anywhere near my blog. it hurts enough that you've targeted my friends with it.

listen up because apparently it bears repeating for the millionth fucking time -

FANFICTION AUTHORS ARE HUMAN BEINGS. they have lives and jobs and school and things they struggle with. maybe they've even spoken publicly about their struggles in the hopes their readers would understand them a bit better because at the end of the day this is a community and they have every right to use this space however they fucking want to.

"don't start a fic you can't finish" - literally shut up. shut up! we are not paid to do this, i will start and not finish whatever the fuck i want.

and holy shit, anon. as if this message wasn't disgusting enough, please let me state plainly something you "desperately" need to hear: no robot can give you what a human writer can. and the fact that you even threatened to just go to AI at this point shows how little you care about storytellers and all they provide for you.

again, i don't care if every word of this message was sent in jest or meant to be read playfully. it's not fucking cute. this shit hurts writers and ya'll need to realize that.

if you take time out of your life to send messages like this, you're a bad person. period. this is not how fanfic works, it's not how the world works. if you can wait two-three years for a movie or a new season of your favourite tv show, you can wait a few months for a fanfic to update. or you can wait forever. we literally owe you nothing.

i'm done sugarcoating it, ya'll. disrespectfully, grow up. grow up! enough is enough.

Yeahhh, I’m not doing that.

First of all this book costed me $25 (twenty five) dollars, I am not writing anything on it.

Second, I am black!! So no! :D

I’m very new here and I wanted to share how much I love your work, I’ve just recently followed you and I’m just done stalking you on most of your socials haha! I love your writing and your artwork is gorgeous; I’m still trying to find my own style (with both my hands and mind), and you’ll definitely be one of my inspirations :) (if you don’t mind, of course)

I was curious of the process of making your comics ? Do you usually start with the poem and then get to the illustration, or is it kinda the opposite?

I plan on saving a bit before grabbing copies of your two comics, but I also saw you mention another anthropology that I can’t seem to find ^^’, if it’s a Patreon exclusive I would be more than happy to join! Anyway, thank you for your time, I hope you have a good one! :)

hello! good day to you too! there's a couple of points here you mentioned, and I'll try to get to them all.

i definitely don't mind being used as an inspiration! it's genuinely an honour, and I hope the style that you end up settling on serves you well.

my comic process always starts with the poem itself. most of the time I write my poems after getting out of the shower and just chilling in bed. The hardest step of the process is almost always just fiddling with the poem/concept itself - i hold myself to a high standard for what I make so if the visual isn't strong enough or I don't like the poem enough I just don't do anything with it (the notes app on my phone is a graveyard of abandoned ideas). after that, I'll thumbnail the entire comic either in my notebook or in clip studio paint (my art program). then it's a matter of lineart, colours, shading and any extra touches i think is necessary.

the anthropology i think you're talking about at the end is the one i'm working on at the moment called hearteaters. it's not done yet since i want to make it my longest comic anthology so far (i've planned 15 comics, so i'm about a third of the way done). after it's all finished, I'll post about it on all my socials and put it up for sale on my store. thank you for expressing interest in it!