I-D, September 1998.

Wild Blackberries - Lucy Clayton

British , b. 1970s

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.

Helen Frankenthaler, Concerto, 1982,

Acrylic on canvas,

53 x 39¼ in (134.6 x 99.7 cm)

This time, if the missile is late and does not kill us, hunger will come and kill us.

The crossing has been closed for more than three months and nothing has entered our country.

My children go to bed hungry, there is nothing for them to eat.

Now we and the animals share their food. We eat animal feed.

Please have mercy on my children, have mercy on us. Please help me get better food for my children. They are now suffering from severe malnutrition.

I am no longer able to stand on my feet due to lack of food. I feel constantly dizzy. My hands are no longer strong enough to hold anything, so what about my children?

Please donate to save us. But this time from hunger before the missile

Death is very close, save us

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION: Hammad and his family are friends with Safaa [VETTED BY 90-GHOST]

$2,940 / $20,000

The last post about Hammad’s campaign is LOSING TRACTION FAST and DONATIONS ARE DWINDLING.

We need YOUR HELP to BOOST THIS POST: PLEASE REBLOG & SHARE ACROSS ALL OF YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA.

[DM FOR READY-TO-POST PICTURES & WORDS FOR HAMMAD’S CAMPAIGN SO ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS HIT POST]

Meet Hammad A.

Hammad is one out of 9 members of his family. He is the eldest boy and the sole provider of his family at the young age of 24 since his father has been battling heart disease, and consequently suffered a debilitating heart attack.

[TW: Close by sounds of heavy artillery shelling and bombing.]

Months ago, at the start of the war, the neighborhood that Hammad and his family grew up in, where they created and held so many cherished memories and bonds, was besieged.

For days, Hammad and his family were trapped, terrified, between the once stable, now crumbling, walls of his home that once brought comfort and privacy to him now threatened to crush him beneath the rubble and the violent shelling of bullets and bombs whistling past their ears through the air and decimating anything it came in contact with.

His family sat, hungry, terrified, praying to live, watching the sun make its rounds past the plumes of black smoke rising from crumpled homes that once lined their block. This is only a fraction of what Hammad has been forced to endure for the over 550 days.

He watched his beautiful home be destroyed — the memories of his childhood, destroyed; the hard work he and his family put into creating their home, destroyed; the pride he and his family had of their home, destroyed; comfort and security, destroyed.

So Hammad pitched a tent. In the face of exposure to harsh elements, forced conditions of unsanitary environments where disease and sickness spreads rapidly, and deprived of the most basic necessities with skyrocketing costs for flour, clothes, and shelter, Hammad persevered to keep his family alive and as safe as he could. He cared for his father as best he could, but his heart disease requires an operation that none of the besieged or otherwise destroyed hospitals of Gaza can do.

But a day came where deafening and core shaking sounds of shelling and bombardment shook the nearby area as they prepared food. Terrified, they ran for their lives. And when they were able to return, their tent has caught fire and burnt down, along with the few items in their tent that they were able to grab from their home before it was destroyed.

Faced with extreme hunger, thirst, displacement, and now the tent burnt down leading to more exposure to the harsh elements, Hammad’s father’s condition has only worsened. The resilience and strength Hammad has constantly and consistently shown only goes so far in the face of the lifeblood of his family suffering under such dire conditions, and I cannot bear for Hammad to have to endure the heartbreak of losing his father.

There is no more room for any more tragedy in his life. We cannot allow it.

While there is a lot of notes on the last post about Hammad’s campaign, traction has been dwindling fast and donations have been slowing down. I cannot emphasize enough the urgency of this campaign and how critically Hammad needs your help.

‼️ STAND IN SOLIDARITY WITH GAZA AND DONATE TODAY ‼️

Chuffed has a waiting period for processing and transferring funds. If you want your donation to IMMEDIATELY be sent to Hammad, paypal is linked below.