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Between the past and the present there was life🇵🇸

This is our home in Gaza, there was life and there was hope👈

I got married and had children in the dream house, but the wars exhausted us. We were rebuilding our homes when they were bombed in 2008. The house, the workplace, and even the cars were bombed. But after the war, we rebuilt them and didn’t need anyone. We had determination and hope. This is a picture of the house after the 2008 war.👇

In the 2014 war, my daughter Walaa was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a result of extreme fear and terror. My daughter became the focus of my great interest in providing a decent and peaceful life for her and her siblings.

Before the war, my wife and I traveled to Egypt for treatment at my own expense, and my children were alone in the house with their older sister Diana. The war broke out and we could not return. I tried repeatedly to get them out, but to no avail. I contacted the leaders of Ireland, Canada, Australia, Belgium and Qatar, but to no avail. The house and workplace were destroyed, all the money was spent, and I could not get anyone out. This is a picture of the house between the 2008/2023 war.👇

I am now trying to save money to buy treatment and life necessities for my children. Life in Gaza has become dreamless. Please ask for your help.

My campaign is verified but the old page has been removed from Tlumber

My daughter, Walaa, is appealing to Al Jazeera to provide treatment or travel, but to no avail. Has humanity become non-existent?

I will not take much of your time. I am very sad. If you do not donate, please contact me on WhatsApp. My number is 00201098178061.

@kyra45-helping-others

@lindigoh-blog

@kyra45 @commissions4aid

-international @occupationsurfer

@ibtisams @sayruq

@evelyn-art-05 @sar-soor @90

-ghost @lady-raziel @helppeople

@helppmefindawaytobreathee

@manrota66

@communistchilchuck

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@nikoco11

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@palestinegenocide

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@bibyebae

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@raelyn

-dreams @troythecatfisn

@the

-bastard-king

@4ft10tvlandfangirl

@awetistic-things-main

@gentl3m4n@

@nikoco11

@humanvictim

@7amaspayrollmanager

@kaapstadgirly

@palestinegenocide

@palestinesfinest

@bibyebae

annoyinggiantfestivaluniver-blog

@manrota66

@toughknit

@flower-tea-fairies

@thetitancurse

@vivisectionv

@communistchameleon

@raelyn

-dreams @troythecatfish

@the

-bastard-king

@4ft10tvlandfangirl

@awetistic-things-main

@gentl3m4n@

awetistic-things

@baby-girl-aaron-dessner

@northgazaupdates

@northgazaupdates2

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt

@nabulsi

#palestine donation#support palestine

#palestine aid#help palestine

#free palestine#save palestine

#all eyes on palestine#palestine news

#i stand with palestine#from the river to the sea

palestine will be free

#palestinian genocide

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🇵🇸🙏 don't scroll ‼️

Hello dear people

I am Nabila from Gaza,, I am 64 years old ,,

speaking to you with a heavy and painful heart. I am sorry that I had to ask for help from you, but what we are living is what pushed me to do this. I was living a beautiful, quiet life, enjoying the time I spend with my grandchildren and seven daughters.

Imagine waking up to find that your world has changed in a moment, and you have lost your security and peace, and your home has been destroyed, and you have become homeless and living in conditions that no human being can bear. I suffer from chronic diseases, high blood pressure and diabetes. My medication has run out for some time and I am facing difficulty in obtaining it in light of the lack of treatment in hospitals and health centers. Most of the time I cannot feel my limbs, but I am trying to resist. I do not want to die in such circumstances. I still have hope that this war will end and we will rebuild our beautiful and beloved country again and live in safety. I believe in divine power and justice and that all this pain will go away.

I am trying to endure these difficult conditions that I live in inside a small tent and a bathroom a few meters away from my tent and you know the conditions of diabetics in this case but once again there is still hope. I used to live at the expense of my daughters but with all sadness and regret they have all lost their homes and places of work and they have no source of income left and their situation is like that of any Gazan who is still inside Gaza struggling with death, hunger, diseases and extreme heat each one struggling to feed his children I cannot ask them for help so I have resorted to you and I am fully confident in your humanity to help me so that I can provide food and treatment and provide a better tent than the one I live in because it is torn and the place is full of insects. If I can provide treatment, I want to continue my life and see my grandchildren grow up around me. I don’t want to go now. I know that I don’t have as much life left as I have, but I have the right to live and enjoy this. Please don’t hesitate to help your mother who has come to you with a heavy and sad heart. Every dollar will make a difference in my life. Don’t leave me to live this pain. I appreciate what you are doing for every Palestinian inside and outside Gaza. I pray to God that you don’t go through what we are going through, my beloved.

Medical visits and insulin: $5000

Travel and transportation to hospital, coordination with Egypt's border: $5000

My campaing vetted by

@90-ghost

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🔴can you help me 🇵🇸🍉

This is my home Which was destroyed by the accursed occupation yesterday I'm not sad about the stones I'm sad about the memories I hope this damned war ends 💔💔😔 🍉🇵🇸

vetted by @90-ghost

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I am from Gaza, the place where every time they say the war is over, it comes back again... as if it never left, as if it just took a short break to return and finish us off.

I went back to my studies when the war ended. I tried to refocus on my future. I was hopeful that maybe this time, we could start over… but everything collapsed again.

Yesterday at 2:15 AM, the pain was beyond words. At dawn, I lost my uncle, my cousin, and my friends. They were with me, talking, laughing, making plans for life… and now they’re gone.

And I buried them with my own hands. I dug the earth, laid them in their graves, and covered them… They were supposed to be here with me today, not under the ground.

I am from Gaza. The war ended, and it came back again… but the people who left will never return.

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The war has returned, and the smell of death is everywhere.

The bombing and missiles never stop, There is no more food, drink, or even a safe place to sleep.

Even the internet connection has been cut off, and I am no longer able to share my story with you.

My loyal friends, please donate even a small amount and share my posts to reach donors.

I need you by my side. You are my only hope, Help me save my family from death and get out of Gaza to live in a safe place.

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☁️ I Share My Pain Every Day… But Is There Any Humanity Left?

Every day, I post photos of my family.

My children. Our broken home.

Not because I want to.

But because I’m forced to.

Because silence kills us faster than bombs😓💔.

This is Hamoud, my little boy🥹🫂.

He used to dream of becoming a doctor.

Now, he just dreams of a meal… a bed… a safe night without crying😭💔.

“Mama, will we eat today?”

“Mama, can we go back home?”

He whispers this with big teary eyes…

And I lie to him — because that’s all I can give him.

Gaza is bleeding

Chickens have vanished.

Sugar, oil, bread — unaffordable luxuries.

Prices have gone mad.

Borders are closed. Aid is gone.

We are told to leave our homes over and over. Where to? No one knows.

But the world?

The world just watches.

And keeps scrolling.

I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m begging for action.

If you see this, don’t turn away.

Share this. Speak about it.

Help me save Hamoud.

His life depends on people like you — people with hearts.

"Silence is a choice. And it's killing us"

Donation link

Or PayPal

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As you sit behind your screen, frustrated with boredom or slow contact, 😶😐

My child and I in Gaza are trying to survive.

But my child and I need the necessary medicines because my child was born with a caesarean section.

My child and I need the necessary treatment 💉💊

Especially my child needs healthy milk 🍼

My friend, I can't move because of the caesarean section with which I gave birth to my child while she was in a tent ⛺️

We live under a relentless bombardment, and we sleep in fear, 😰

And we wake up counting who is still alive. For a year and a half, we were killed, displaced and forgotten. Please - don't look away. Share our story.

Donate if you can.

Helping you can mean survival for a family like mine.

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Source

Source

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https://www.instagram.com/stories/samah_familial/3605620005412053949?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igsh=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

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https://www.instagram.com/stories/matw_projectamerica/3600501391648617308?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igsh=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

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Source

Source

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Eid is tough for Umm Muhammad, tough enough to remember the morning of a year ago when she used to gather around the breakfast table with feseekh and lots of fun and laughter with four of her sons: “Ahmed,” a doctor who was killed while treating the wounded; “Salah,” a policeman who was killed at his door; “Amjad,” as he was returning home with bread; and “Ibrahim,” as he was returning from the south. The mother remembers the story of five young men who died one after the other, within days of each other: “Every two days they would bring me news of one of them until they were finished.” She gathered them all in one grave with their father.

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‏Today's vetted fundraisers

My name is Mohammed Zaqout, a Palestinian living in the USA, and I am organizing this fundraiser to help my family in Gaza, who are facing a severe humanitarian crisis. My siblings and their young children are trapped in desperate conditions, suffering from starvation, lack of clean water, electricity, internet, and medical care. They have lost everything, witnessing constant bombings and even white phosphorus attacks. Aid is limited, and the situation is worsening, especially with winter approaching. I feel powerless, as I cannot abandon them and fear losing them at any moment. Any support to help reunite me with my family would be deeply appreciated.

@el-shab-hussein @irhabiya @nabulsi @appsa @wellwaterhysteria

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⚠️‼️PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE⚠️‼️

We have collected $15,337 raised of $20,000 !🇵🇸

🇵🇸 save family lost their home ,dreams and everything in Gaza 🇵🇸

This is my home before the war and after the war how it became💔💔💔

Before: After:

We have been through many wars before, but this war was not like the ones before it. Our lives were turned upside down. We became displaced from one place to another. We are the Anas family, residents of northern Gaza, specifically in the Shujaiya area. In the first week of the war, we fled our home because everyone considered our home to be in a dangerous area. We moved to the Rimal area, specifically in the middle of Gaza. There, we received the news that our home, which contained all our beautiful memories, was bombed. Suddenly, it was gone!!! Just thinking that your home, which you worked hard on and built from scratch and took a lot of your life, was gone in less than a second ! After a while, we left the sands to the Al-Zawaida area because of the heavy shelling. We stayed there for about two weeks, and then the terrorist army asked us to go to Rafah. We actually fled for the fourth time to Rafah and stayed there for two months, some of the most difficult days of our lives, as there was no way or means to live a normal life. 😔😔 After that, because of the invasion of Rafah, we moved to Deir al-Balah. Now, we are in very difficult and oppressive circumstances.

We are asking you with all shame to support and stand by us in these difficult circumstances that everyone knows because we lost our home, our work and any stable source of income. Thank you all.

🔗 🔗 Gofundme link for donations 👇👇👇👇🔗 🔗

Please, we are in dire need of you and your support. If you cannot donate, you can share☹️❤️🥹

Even $5 will make a big difference and save us!

Verified by : @nabulsi

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⚠️‼️PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE⚠️‼️

We have collected $15,337 raised of $20,000 !🇵🇸

🇵🇸 save family lost their home ,dreams and everything in Gaza 🇵🇸

This is my home before the war and after the war how it became💔💔💔

Before: After:

We have been through many wars before, but this war was not like the ones before it. Our lives were turned upside down. We became displaced from one place to another. We are the Anas family, residents of northern Gaza, specifically in the Shujaiya area. In the first week of the war, we fled our home because everyone considered our home to be in a dangerous area. We moved to the Rimal area, specifically in the middle of Gaza. There, we received the news that our home, which contained all our beautiful memories, was bombed. Suddenly, it was gone!!! Just thinking that your home, which you worked hard on and built from scratch and took a lot of your life, was gone in less than a second ! After a while, we left the sands to the Al-Zawaida area because of the heavy shelling. We stayed there for about two weeks, and then the terrorist army asked us to go to Rafah. We actually fled for the fourth time to Rafah and stayed there for two months, some of the most difficult days of our lives, as there was no way or means to live a normal life. 😔😔 After that, because of the invasion of Rafah, we moved to Deir al-Balah. Now, we are in very difficult and oppressive circumstances.

We are asking you with all shame to support and stand by us in these difficult circumstances that everyone knows because we lost our home, our work and any stable source of income. Thank you all.

🔗 🔗 Gofundme link for donations 👇👇👇👇🔗 🔗

Please, we are in dire need of you and your support. If you cannot donate, you can share☹️❤️🥹

Even $5 will make a big difference and save us!

Verified by : @nabulsi

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My child is dying in my arms.. and I'm powerless to save him 🍉🍉💔

How does a father write an obituary for his son while he's still in his arms? How can I describe the feeling of helplessness as I watch my child suffocate, tremble, and groan in pain, and I can do nothing but cry?

Mohammed, my soul, my heartbeat, faces death right in front of me. He looks at me with eyes filled with pain, as if asking, "Dad, why don't you save me?" And I have no answer. I have nothing but my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of protecting him.

My son is dying, and his days are slipping away from me like water through my fingers. He suffers from severe lung infections, and his small body can't take any more. The doctors told me in cold voices, "The only solution is urgent surgery, or else...!" They didn't finish their sentence, but I heard it all in their deadly silence.

But how can I save him when I can't afford a life? How can I accept that money be the barrier between me and seeing my child grow up? The amount demanded is huge, and I stand before it, penniless except for my hope in God and my supplications to you.

I am not asking for help, I am asking for life... a life for my child before he departs... before I bury him, knowing I did not do enough to save him.

Please... do not let him die... do not leave me to carry his shroud and carry him to his grave, knowing I could have saved him had a merciful hand reached out to me.

Any support, any assistance, even if it is simply sharing this appeal, could be the difference between life and death... it could be the miracle by which I save my child from the death that creeps closer to him every minute.

💔 Please.. save Muhammad before his name is written among the departed.. before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

Verified : @90-ghost

Vetted by @bilal-salah0

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#ADesperateFather'sCall

#MyChildNeedsYou

@variouscontent @ohmuqueen @phantomofthetacobell-blog @robotclownindulgence @chocxy-prince @scrunchyharry @silkwaterlilies @cloxwork @geekydragonyt @reduxskullduggerry @mahoumisfit @crazy-lazy-elder-sims @nightows @tumbler-dot-com-user @raffaelaferrante @calcyx @i-dont-like-orange-juice @kosi-annec @reblogging-random-stuff @jun-xunie @collaberal-damage @yellingaboutmasseffect

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An Open Letter to Donald Trump

I am not you. You are not me.

I believe in human rights—and in the radical notion that every human being has value. Whether they’re privileged, wealthy white men like yourself, or the rest of us—regular people trying to make it in the world with whatever mix of gifts, grit, or luck we were handed.

We, your constituency, matter. Every single one of us. Documented or undocumented, gay or straight, rich or poor, PhD or high school dropout, Democrat or Republican—we matter. And we will not be discarded.

For starters: we see you.

We see the ruthless slashing of the federal workforce. The gutting of public service infrastructure like it's a bloated carcass in your way. We see you starving universities and civil society organizations—those pesky pillars of democracy—of funding, or holding their futures hostage like a third-rate mob boss.

We see the “drill, baby, drill” smirk as you drain the lifeblood from the environment. The way you bully public servants, LGBTQ+ citizens, judges, Black and brown people, journalists—mocking them for sport, or worse, ruining their lives. We see you naming entire bodies of water, like a toddler with a Sharpie and no sense of scale.

We see all of it—for what it is. A grotesque attempt to consolidate power and control the narrative in ways this country has never seen—and never signed up for.

And we think: how narcissistic. How vile. How contrary to every decency we were ever taught—about dignity, integrity, and treating people like they matter.

And yes, we’re angry.

Do you know—really know—that tens of thousands of federal public servants show up every day with the same sense of duty and courage as any soldier? That researchers at the NIH, park rangers, humanitarian workers—they all serve this country with quiet valor?

Thanks to you, many now face a crisis they didn’t create. Laid off in an economy teetering on recession, they’re left scrambling to pay rent, cover healthcare, and put food on the table.

This is the carnage. Not the one you promised to end—the one you gleefully unleashed.

A USAID staffer you sent packing—someone who spent a career saving lives on the front lines of global crises—told me they felt like trash. Like a Vietnam vet coming home. Spat on. Shamed. Forgotten.

You might be wondering—who am I to write this? Just a nameless, middle-class civilian. One of the millions living under your gilded thumb. Who am I to address you—the self-anointed most powerful man on Earth?

I’m the great-granddaughter of a Jewish immigrant who fled Lithuania before World War II. One of the lucky ones. The rest of our family? Murdered in the Holocaust.

I’m the granddaughter of a man who grew up on food stamps in Depression-era Brooklyn, scraping by in a city that only valued the wealthy and well-fed. And on my mother’s side? My great-great-great-grandparents packed their belongings into wooden wagons and crossed the prairie to Nebraska, armed with grit, stubborn hope, and maybe a cow or two.

I’m a former journalist—sickened as you wage war on the press, eroding public trust with every lie, every sneer, every “fake news” jab, until truth itself is bleeding out on the floor.

And I’m an adjunct professor who struggles to look her students in the eye and promise them there’s still a future worth fighting for.

You look at people like me and see weakness. You slap labels on us—radical left lunatics, traitors, threats. You dream of jailing us, silencing us, bending us to your will.

But here’s the thing: we’re not going anywhere.

Because people like me—and everyone like me—we come from fighters. From survivors. From generations who stood up to tyranny, to hunger, to hopelessness, and kept going. My mothers, because I've been lucky enough to have two, taught me how to use my voice to help others.

And we will keep going.

You may think you’ve broken something in us. But all you’ve done is awaken what was always there: the will to resist, to speak, to rise. And rise we will.

I write to you today to affirm my place in the resistance. In the streets. In the courts. And in the hearts and minds of the people.

This is a call to action. A cry for solidarity from someone who wants to be part of the movement for democracy—not the vanity project you’re dressing up as one.

And I get it—it’s hard to show up. It’s easier to be lulled into a stupor by Netflix, or football, or Pilates. To believe the myth that democracy runs on autopilot. Many of us grew up in the richest, freest country on Earth—and for too long, we mistook that freedom for permanence. We took that freedom for granted. I'll own that I've been too tired. Too busy. Too afraid to speak out. 

No more.

Because now we see what’s at stake.

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

And we are alive with the spirit of our ancestors, whispering across generations: Never forget.

Source: An Open Letter to Donald Trump