"I Had To Kill Him!"

CWs: graphic descriptions (not illustrations!) of violence/torture, illustrations of blood, bruises, fresh stitches. for the first one, please refer to this clip from poker night at the inventory if you need a preview.

The genocide of Palestinians has been ongoing since the 1948 Nakba began. Genocide is not only an event of mass death, but mass disabling.

The Israeli military fired a phosphorus bomb in 2008, and a woman in a house nearby was exposed to these gasses through her pregnancy. When her son was born, he had already been harmed and disabled by the occupation.

Ahmad Aldany is this son. He lives with a lifelong health condition that effects his bones and teeth. This disability requires specialized healthcare, which is hard to afford in the best of times.

Two years ago, his home was completely destroyed, and his family was displaced, like so many other Palestinians, moving from place to place in search of safety. He witnessed horrific scenes no child should ever see: destruction, and constant fear.

Ahmed is now suffering from a very difficult psychological condition. He wakes up at night to the sound of explosions and screams at the top of his voice because he is afraid. The healthcare infrastructure was decimated, leaving him unable to receive the treatment he needs for his disability. Now, the famine has become so severe that he goes long days without eating.

I was introduced to Ahmed @ahmedaldani333 through our mutual friend Fadel @fadel-dani. Fadel has been worried about Ahmed, as they are both disabled, traumatized, and in need of urgent medical care.

Two days ago, on Eid al-Adha, Ahmed woke up to the sound of bullets and shells falling. His family fled, abandoning their tent with all their food, blankets, and pillows. They are traumatized, exhausted, starving, and in need of safety and health care.

Ahmed created a fundraiser (vetted by gazavetters #198) to try to travel with his family to a safe country where he can rebuild his life, continue his education, and build a better future for himself.

Ahmed has raised €4,152 so far, but he needs much more to be able to secure safety for his family and get the treatment he needs.

He needs visibility on his campaign. Please donate what you can, share this message, and if you can, offer to write him a post now and then to share his story with others.

We’re still starving… Please don’t look away.

This is not just a photo. This is Gaza. This is our reality.

The girl in this image is one of thousands of children in Gaza suffering from severe malnutrition. Her fragile body is a silent scream — a reflection of the hunger, fear, and pain that haunt every corner of our lives.

She could be my daughter. She could be yours.

My name is Fayez, a father of three beautiful children. I live in Gaza, under the unrelenting siege and devastation of war.

Every day, we wake up not knowing if we’ll have food — not even bread or clean water.

The fear of bombs has been replaced by a greater fear: starvation.

I am not afraid to die from the airstrikes anymore. But I am terrified to watch my children die slowly from hunger. To hear them cry at night from empty stomachs, and have nothing to give them — that is a pain no parent should ever bear.

Please, I am begging you — if you are reading this, help me feed my children. Help save their lives. Any donation, no matter how small, can mean a meal, a lifeline, a moment of hope.

Please Donate now:👇👇 👇

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #521 )✅️

Share, donate, help us survive. 🕊️❤️

In a corner of Gaza, my family and I are drowning in destruction, with the echoes of suffering surrounding us. I sat beside my modest tent, hastily erected after losing my home in the latest bombing. The faces of my family tell stories of patience and resilience, with lines of time etched upon them, as if they were records of unforgettable events. 🇵🇸⏳🍉

I once lived in a small home, filled with the laughter and voices of my children. Today, I have become a witness to the agony of displacement. The bombing forced me to flee with my children after a shell struck our home, leaving behind years of memories and simple belongings I never imagined would become unreachable. 🏚️💨

Every morning, I leave my tent and go to work, using a clay oven to provide food for my children. Meanwhile, my youngest son heads to the charity kitchens that offer aid, waiting for long hours under Gaza’s scorching sun. Despite the exhaustion that weighs down his frail body, he carries the food mixed with his tears and returns with a fake smile, hiding behind it the burdens of his struggles. 🍞🥀

At night, when everyone else is asleep, I remain seated at the entrance of my tent, gazing at the dark sky, reminiscing about days gone by… about my home that was once filled with warmth. Yet, I still find remnants of hope in my heart—a hope that one day peace will return, and my children and I will live in a new home, filled with joy. 🌙🏡✨

In moments of solitude, I find peace in prayer and supplication. I plead to God to protect Gaza and its people, to wipe away the dust of sorrow from our hearts. I always repeat🇵🇸🍉🌿

"We are here to remind the world that we are stronger than war, and we will rebuild our lives anew, no matter the cost!" 🙏

No safety. No food. No aid. No water. No healthcare. No education. Is this what it means to live? Is this what world accept as life?

If a group of animals were trapped, starved, and cut off from the world like this, people would be outraged.

But because it's us—human beings—somehow, the world looks away.

These are unbearable days. Everything feels heavy. Each hour presses on my chest like I’m being suffocated.

My family needs urgent help.

Basic survival has become nearly impossible. Bread—just bread—now costs over $25 a day to make. We are not asking for luxury. We are begging for life.

Please, if you’re reading this: help. Reblog this post. Talk about us. Donate if you can. Even a small act can mean everything right now.

My name is Musab. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I’m one of the survivors of the war here, and in a moment, I lost everything — my home, my safety, and my community. 🏚️💔

I’m a father to three young daughters: twin girls, Alaa and Lama, who are 4 years old, and my eldest, Lina, who is 6. 👧👧👧 Lama had to undergo surgery after being injured in an airstrike — she now has metal plates in her arm. We don't even have bread to eat, and when we do find it, the prices are impossibly high. 🍞❌💸

The war has turned Gaza into rubble. Everything is destroyed. No safety. No stability. No hope. 🕊️💣🏚️ Food and clean water have become luxuries. Hospitals are overwhelmed, and medicine is nearly nonexistent. 🚫💊🚑

I am also injured — my shoulder was severely damaged, and I had surgery, but I still need a second operation. The pain is constant, but the greatest pain is seeing my children hungry and afraid. 🤕❤️‍🩹😢

Escaping Gaza is my only hope, but I can’t do it alone. The cost of evacuation is overwhelming, and I simply can’t afford it. I write to you now with hope that my words will reach a compassionate heart. 🙏🌍

I’m not asking for much — just a chance at life for me and my children. A chance to escape fear and destruction, and to begin again in a safe place. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a huge difference. And if you can’t donate, please share my story. It may reach someone who can help. 🕊️💖📢

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Verified by: @gazavetters #520