shahaddahlan0

[shahaddahlan0]

Today marks the third day of our weekly activity with the children.

I had previously shared an update, accompanied by photos, from the first day of this event through GoFundMe.. and now, our friend Ahmad Ibsais has also shared my story, specifically about this activity.

And I thank him for this beautiful gesture so that the world may see that we are trying, and still trying, to live despite all that we are enduring.

In short, we are like a miracle creating life out of death.

And this is the very mystery that infuriates them a thought I had mentioned before in my writings, if you’ve been following them regularly…

Today, we did not open the F* aid bags in search of food we opened them to create something that resembles life… or what’s left of it.

Do you know what we did?

From the sacks of death you sent us in the name of ((relief)) !!!!

we built homes out of imagination shelters from the remnants of humiliation, roofs patched with crumbs of hope.. and walls that shield us not from bombardment.. but from breaking apart on the inside.

We tore those bags apart not to take what’s inside,

but to reject what they stand for.

We no longer want the scraps of your charity wrapped in pity,

nor the aid that falls on us like bombs soulless and stripped of dignity.

We do not need your food that tastes of humiliation,

nor your flour laced with plastic and mold.

What we need is a homeland. 𓂆 🇵🇸

What we long for is peace. ☮️

What we deserve is safety. 🫂

We are not begging for life.

We are demanding it in full the dignity to live, a sky that does not terrify us,

and a land that does not swallow our children.

These bags you drop from the skies do not feed hunger they deepen disgrace.

So keep your aid huh!!!

if it does not come with dignity, justice, and rights.

Give us a homeland… and we will build life within it.

Leave us alone, filthy world.

We will continue to resist Even the children who infuriate you will resist you.

And generation after generation, until PALESTINE IS FREE. 𓂆 ✌️

___________________________

My plan was to leave Gaza in search of survival to escape and preserve my life.

But the closure of the crossings changed everything, forcing me to reconsider my choices deeply.

That’s when I realized that I couldn’t abandon my homeland,

couldn’t turn my back on it and leave it behind.

In fact, I once wrote an article about that titled: “I Will Not Say Goodbye to This Land.”

Anyway…

I thought long and hard…

And I came to understand that my life is not more precious than the lives of those children the children of my devastated city,

who fall apart into pieces before my eyes every single day.

So instead of leaving, I chose to stay.

To offer whatever I can within my field of work,

alongside my eldest brother an art education teacher in an effort to ease the pain we live with in Gaza, especially the suffering endured by persecuted children.

I found that I'm able even with simple means to draw a few smiles on their faces,

through sports and artistic recreational activities

that offer them a small window of escape from their pain, and give us all a moment to breathe amid all this rubble.

Today marked our third activity.

We regularly dedicate an entire week to the children,

giving them the space to express themselves freely,

to release what has built up in their small chests

from the constant pressure of fear, hunger, bombings, and relentless death.

We begin with light physical exercises that’s my role now.

We play energetically, shout together at the top of our lungs, sing national songs,

and then move on to art sessions and handicrafts of all kinds that’s now my brother’s part.

Believe me… the joy I feel in those moments is indescribable.

It’s not just the children who enjoy it I, too, feel overwhelming happiness.

I don’t know… maybe there’s still a child inside me struggling to survive,

and this war has stripped us of our childhoods,

adding years to our age,

and tons of grief to our hearts.

Here are the details of this beautiful day, written in the article I prepared this afternoon.

And tomorrow InshaAllah will be even better.

________________________

90% of these children had their homes bombed by the Israeli occupation.

They were deprived of their rooms, their beds, their toys, their school bags, notebooks, and colors... of the painted walls, the pictures, and the memories.

They were stripped of the simplest thing that gives a person a sense of safety a shelter.

Today, my brother Yasser (an art teacher) organized an activity for the neighborhood children and the displaced kids who had taken refuge on Abu Arif Street in Dair al Balah.

As usual, the children and I begin our activities with the most joyful physical exercises, small games, and fun competitions.

We run and play with all our energy, shout together, and sing national songs with enthusiasm.

We celebrate and plant moments of joy in our hearts despite everything around us.

After that, we move on to the drawing session,

where the children’s imaginations and colors are set free to create a world far more beautiful than the one they’re living in.

By the way, we hold these activities in my family’s humble garden...

It may not be perfect, but it’s far better than the heat of the tent.

For me, it’s enough that it offers the children a small space for comfort and joy.

He explained to them some basics of drawing proportions, texture, colors, shading, and more.

As always, I was there with him, helping with the art and craft activities. I immersed myself in watching the children and taking memorable photos of them.

Then he taught them how to draw a house from their imagination.

He named this activity: (A House from My Imagination)

And the children took off, soaring in their imagination, lost in their sketchbooks and colors.

All of them were skilled at drawing.. I was truly surprised by that.

The strange thing is, these children haven’t received any formal education in two, maybe even three years.

Yet I saw determination shining in their pupils, as if they were truly building real houses with their little hands.

I hope this foolish war ends soon, so we can return, rebuild our homes again,

and restore the beauty to our lives just as it once was… if not even more beautiful.

VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED ✅️ by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

[shahaddahlan0]

To everyone from around the world.. An important issue that the world must know about...

I just woke up to a question from my American friend asking about the issue of cash and money withdrawals and this is a matter that truly needs to be addressed.

Honestly, I believe that one single person is behind all this pressure we're experiencing here as citizens in Gaza.. And we have no doubt that this is the work of the occupation, aiming to intensify pressure on the population here more and more.

Take, for example, some of the cash denominations that were suddenly banned or (phased out) without warning. The (10shekel) note, for instance, caused a major disruption in the market.. And the old (100 shekel) note we used to trade with it normally, and suddenly it was canceled!

And now, they’re trying to cancel the (20 shekel) note as well!

Can you imagine?

There’s also new tightening regarding cash notes under the pretext that they’re “old” or their color is (faded) even though we used to use these very same notes before the war even when they were torn as long as the serial number was visible. Now suddenly, they’re no longer acceptable? What nonsense.

As I said, this is clearly a Zionist move.. The clearest proof is their refusal to mint new cash or open the banks. Can you imagine that we are still using the same physical money since the beginning of the war?

Where are we supposed to get new cash from?

As for the issue of cash withdrawal or as we now call it, buying money with money.. huh that’s what it has come to!

The situation here has deteriorated and worsened, especially regarding cash. Sellers have started refusing to accept payments through banking apps they now insist on cash only.

And in order to get cash, you have to buy it with money through cash commission traders.

These traders raise their commission rates constantly, and I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said the rates go up almost every hour.

Just two weeks ago, the commission was 45%. Now it has reached 52%!

In other words, the commission traders are not merely sharing our money they’re taking more than half, as if they’re giving us an allowance from our own funds!

I still see no logical reason for banning sales through the banking app.

Honestly, not a single shekel remains in my pocket.. so where are we expected to get all this cash from?

There are accumulating pressures weighing down on the poor Gazan citizen, layer upon layer, and I don’t know when or ifthey will ever end.!!!!

These are also critical issues that must be highlighted and shared, so the world can see just how vile, sick, and mentally deranged this Zionist occupier truly is.

[shahaddahlan0]

I think it's now the turn for the Canadian airdrops..

but the chaos still reigns, and death, as always, shows no hesitation.

I just captured it from my family’s window...

The place where this airdrop landed, unfortunately, lies within the red zones…!!!

What choice do you have, people?

Death... or death?

@gazavetters @bilal-sala7 @hassanshahad @virovac @kordeliiius

[shahaddahlan0]

Wietkoff stated after visiting the aid distribution center in Gaza that (there is no famine in Gaza) huh!!!!

Well then, dear sir, if there’s no famine kindly deposit our salaries so we can buy food… otherwise, we will die of hunger :/

Are we doomed to live like beggars, relying on donations just to survive?

Is this what you offer us death or begging?!!!

I firmly reject this humiliating reality and this utter nonsense.

All we want is for this absurd war to end, to return to our lives as before, and to be able to access food with dignity and safety.

[shahaddahlan0]

I am here, from the heart of Gaza...

From amidst the pain, the killing, and the hunger,

I write to you with a spark of hope still glowing in my heart.

I believe that life despite everything will become more beautiful, InshaAllah.

As long as I stay connected to my breathtaking sky, I share my conversations with her, and take pictures of her as I always used to.

And turn my eyes, as much as I can, away from the rubble and destruction,

I will be okay, inshaAllah... and I will try to bloom through the cracks.

You are kind people, always surrounding us with your warmth.

We love you all, from the depths of our hearts.

Dair al Balah

28 July 2025

5:05 p.m.

[shahaddahlan0]

In the bird’s mouth,

a broken song pecking at the wind… hiding in the pale light,

The light of my city's crumbled ruins...

Children made of story clay

run without shadows,

laugh with teeth of air...

Hunger? huh !!!!

It is nothing...

They dream of crumbs,

loaves of silence.

But they vanished,

just like their delicate features…

Have you seen their faces?

Such innocence, carved in stillness time drips from them,

drop by drop…

But do you realize something?

That time.. it never arrives…

Sleep now, ya habibi, beneath the sighs of the sun,

waiting for crumbs of bread...

Perhaps the end of the world is near.

Dair al Balah

28 July 2025

4:20 a.m.

VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) &VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

[shahaddahlan0]

What kindness…

This morning, I woke up to a flood of beautiful messages from all around the world even from across the seas..

My heart is grateful for all this love and care.. Just knowing that you believe in me and in my cause is enough to give me a deep sense of meaning.. It makes me feel like I have a voice, and that I have rights I will claim, despite the world..

From my heart here in Gaza, I send peace and greetings on an olive branch to your hearts across the distance.🌿🫶

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸✌️

[shahaddahlan0]

Virovac 🥹🫶🫂

Life here is always teetering on the edge of nothingness…! 💔

Today, I arrived at my family’s home in Dair Al Balah with my husband. Barely moments had passed since we stepped inside when a massive explosion thundered nearby. It was terrifyingly close... as if the earth itself shook beneath our feet as if we were living through a real earthquake.

But worse than the sound of the explosion were the shards that followed…

A tiny piece of shrapnel flew right past my young nephew.. the same child you might remember if you’ve followed my posts… the one who once cried over a piece of candy.

What a strange life this is.

A fragment so small it could be missed by the eye, yet it almost took his life. Only a few centimeters.. maybe even less.. separated it from his fragile body. I saw smoke rising from it… it was still burning, intensely hot, as if just one more degree would’ve melted it completely.

Hours later, I went out to take care of something, and by coincidence, I passed by the area that had been struck. I couldn’t believe what I saw. A place once full of life and people had become nothing but rubble. Complete destruction. A living, breathing heart silenced in an instant.

And the truly terrifying part?

This location was in the middle of a densely populated area.

Thankfully and by "Allah mercy" a warning had been issued beforehand. People had a moment, however brief, to escape. If not for that, the massacre would have been unimaginable.

We survived today… and many others did too.

But the chilling truth still hangs in the air:

Life here constantly sways on the edge of nothingness.

And do you want to know the strangest part?

Everyone tells us that coming back home is a foolish, even insane decision…

But I swear to you, there is no safe place in this entire strip.

We are all standing at the edge of the abyss

The abyss of farewell.

A farewell to a life that was never truly given to us as it should have been.

VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED ✅️ by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

[shahaddahlan0]

Damn the aid trucks...

Damn the hunger...

Damn this entire world!

I lived through the worst, most terrifying night of my life.

It wasn’t fear for myself it was for my husband and my brothers.

The trucks came loaded with death, not food.

The place boiled with fear, and the sky rained fire.

I was trembling, my heart about to explode from anxiety.

Every passing moment carried the possibility of loss.

I saw red bullets flying wildly through the air,

passing right behind my brother as I screamed his name but he couldn’t hear me.

How cruel it is to be trapped by fear, to stand completely powerless in the face of a merciless fate,

to feel that life could be ripped away in a second just because you were searching for a loaf of bread!

What have they done to us?

How did we reach this humiliating point?

Running through horror for a piece of bread...

When we were once the rulers of the world?

I tried to document a small part of this horror for you, but I was trembling… I just couldn’t.💔

VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

Please, I don't want to lose my brother and my husband. We will buy flour even if it costs a million dollars, and not go to death. That's why I need your support.🫶🤦🏼‍♂️

[shahaddahlan0]

Two Left Feet | A Drarry Microfic Duet

@drarrymicrofic | words: 735 | prompt: welcome

Part I: The Punishment Fits the Crime

Part II: The Dancer's Dilemma

“Well… come in then,” Draco tittered, tapping his foot impatiently as Harry awkwardly hovered in the doorway. 

He stepped into the empty classroom, noting the record player in the corner. 

“I don’t have all day,” Draco grumbled, arms crossed firmly, looking him up and down with disdain. 

Harry rolled his eyes, tossing his bookbag down at a nearby desk and cautiously approaching the grimacing blonde. He supposed this was progress for them, seeing as they weren’t exchanging hexes or snarky remarks. 

In fact, they had managed to remain civil with each other for the past forty-eight hours, ever since McGonagall decreed they would be practice partners for the yule ball.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Harry groaned. 

“Very well,” Draco sniffed, straightening his tie. “We’ll start with a simple waltz. Assume your position.”

He poised his slender body elegantly, elongating through the arms. 

Harry let his gaze drift down Draco’s sculpted dancer’s frame. He had never been this close without having a wand pointed in his face. Had he always been this fit? 

Draco waited stiffly, a dusting of pink creeping across his cheeks under the scrutinizing gaze. 

Finally, Harry approached, placing his left hand softly in Draco’s right, and resting the other on Draco’s lower back. 

Draco turned pink up to his ears, then grabbed Harry’s wrist and firmly moved his hand just below his shoulder blade before returning it to rest on top of Harry’s bicep. 

It was surprisingly firm. He would’ve never guessed it beneath all of the baggy clothes he wore.  

“You hold your partner here—Potter—when dancing the waltz,” he gritted out, trying not to think about what else was underneath those baggy clothes. 

“Er, right, sorry,” Harry gulped. 

Draco suppressed a shiver, continuing his instructions. 

“Okay we’re essentially making a box. The count goes one, two, three, one, two three. On one you’re going to take a step forward with your left foot—yep, just like that. On two, step right with your right foot, and carry your left foot over on three so your feet are together—yes, very good.”

He found himself slipping easily into the role of instructor, something he had been doing for years and quite enjoyed. He was admittedly surprised how well Harry followed instructions, not stepping on Draco’s toes once. 

The usual bumbling oaf moved surprisingly nimbly, carrying Draco through the soft turns with ease. 

“Beautiful job, H—Potter. Now let’s try it with music.”

Draco pulled away, leaving Harry cold. 

With Draco’s back to him as he chose a record, Harry quickly wiped off the sweat from his hands against his trousers. He straightened back up just as Draco lowered the needle onto the record. When Draco turned, Harry stood composed—albeit a bit flushed.

Soft lilting orchestral music filled the room. 

As they resumed their position, Draco tightened their stance so they were standing nearly chest to chest. Harry’s heart thrummed in his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. 

Tuning into the rhythm of the music, Draco began his count. 

“One, two, three, one, two, three.”

The music pulled them along as they swept across the floor in tight circles. 

“Good, Harry, very good!” Draco commended, a laugh bubbling from his chest before he could think better of it. 

He cleared his throat and resumed his count, trying to ignore the way Harry’s eyes sparkled at the praise.   

But as a soft ray of sunlight caught the shimmering emerald, Draco couldn’t resist the draw he felt towards his gaze. 

Perhaps it was a great cosmic joke. 

Perhaps it was the way his heart fluttered in his chest. 

Draco stumbled—tripping over his own feet and falling into Harry’s arms. 

They stood frozen. 

Chest to chest, cheek to cheek. 

He staggered backwards at once, mouth agape and face burning red. 

“Right, well, that’s quite enough for today. I should really get going.”

He hastily retreated, turning on his heel as he made a beeline for the door, but Harry stopped him, hand wrapped gently around Draco’s wrist.

“Draco, wait—” he blurted, pausing to compose himself as Draco glanced over his shoulder with a stony face and a raised brow. “Same time next week?”

He cocked his head, a lopsided grin sliding across his lips hopefully. 

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and sighed.  

“Yeah. See you next week, Potter,” he murmured, gently pulling his wrist free.

This was going to be a long month. 

[shahaddahlan0]

Habibiiii 🥹🫶

I Promised Her I Wouldn't Go...

I promised my wife that I would no longer go to the aid distribution areas where stray bullets, shelling, and death are constant threats.

She is deeply afraid… and I am all she has left in this world.

That’s why I’m pleading with you please don’t forget me in your generous donations.

I am in desperate need of your support, just to buy a few kilograms of flour and some basic vitamins to help us survive this brutal famine.

Please…

Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave my small family and our cats struggling in the midst of this hunger, weakness, and fear.

Your presence, your support, means life to us.

You can donate here, even if it's just a little.🫶👇

Vetted by @gazavetters ✅️ (#502) & VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

[shahaddahlan0]

Kordelius

My friend who shares with me love, emotional and even financial support and songs. Lol 🫶💙

Your prayers for Hassan’s father and mother, whom he has lost. 🙏

[shahaddahlan0]

Day 27th to Day 39th, June 15th to June 27th:

This won't be too long. Not much happened during this stretch. My symptoms just increased in intensity. I was extremely lethargic. I hurt all of the time. I wasn't very capable of much useful thought. I broke my fast on the evening of the 27th. I'm finished. I can't tell you how grateful I am to eat again. To be honest, I feel a little shame as well, but that's my personal hangup. During this time, Israel has continued its genocide of the Palestinian people. Two of my friends in Palestine have had loved ones murdered by the fascist, Israeli regime. Two of these martyrs were murdered by a drone. Food has come in for both of them but you must know, if you've followed events at all, that whatever is received does so at great personal risk. That whatever is received does not begin to address the nutritional needs of my friends, their families, or any of the people in Palestine. This is intentional; this is the point. Over the last month, the Israeli fascists and their (our) paid mercenaries have murdered more than 500 people they're charged to provide humanitarian aid to. Children and the elderly have continued dying from hunger and exposure to the elements. It's a combination of the two factors that takes them. Israel has also begun a war with Iran; the US saw fit to participate directly, bombing Iranian sites as well. The actions of the US and fascist, Israeli swine have brought embarrassment to both nations because they were unsuccessful. But, I only bring this up to point out that the media has used this as a distraction from the ongoing genocide. Don't forget, I beg you. Don't get distracted. Finally, I'm appealing to your shared sense of humanity. Could you please donate to my friend Shahad's GoFundMe? Her and her husband are seeking to flee Palestine. Thank you for your aid.

[shahaddahlan0]

Omg.. Finally, I found the video that captures what I've imagined so many times within me...

That silent longing I could never quite explain.

Let gravity vanish and disappear forever...

I just want to fly beyond all limits.

I want to be free, just as a person imagines themselves to be before reality teaches them the meaning of falling.

Free from everything… from the earth, from time, from the laws that bind the body...

I want to fly.. not to escape, but to return to myself.

I will always dream of being a bird, soaring through the sky. 🩵🦋

[shahaddahlan0]

My cousin was martyred last week when he went to get a bag of flour. The artillery hit them, killing nearly 100 people. This isn't aid. They treat us like they're hunting rats.

I was saying we were living a nightmare... but it seems like a joke.

To this extent, our blood is cheap. Aren't we human beings?!

This is my cousin, a young man who is not yet twenty years old. He was killed by hunger.

Please, I don't want to lose my brother and my husband. We will buy flour even if it costs a million dollars, and not go to death. That's why I need your support.🫶🤦🏼‍♂️

VETTED by @gazavetters ✅️ (#502) & VETTED by @bilal-sala7 (#3)

[shahaddahlan0]

Just moments ago, I saw a video of a young man eating sand, crying out in anguish:

"Tell me, what is left for us to eat? Who do we complain to? Who will listen?"

No one truly feels our pain...

We are living through an absolute famine,

yet the world remains silent.

We survive on a meal a day if we're lucky.

Today, we might manage to buy a little,

but tomorrow? We don’t know.

Perhaps there will be money,

but nothing left to buy.

Nothing left to eat.

They follow foolish, senseless policies when it comes to aid

methods that don’t save, but destroy.

I swear, “Wallah” I would rather starve,

than send my brother or husband to retrieve aid..

that leads only to death.

Can anyone tell me when this madness will end?

How long will I keep asking this question?

How long must we live in this hunger, this humiliation, this forgotten pain?

Is there anyone still listening?

Is there anyone still watching?

[shahaddahlan0]

Life here is always teetering on the edge of nothingness…! 💔

Today, I arrived at my family’s home in Dair Al Balah with my husband. Barely moments had passed since we stepped inside when a massive explosion thundered nearby. It was terrifyingly close... as if the earth itself shook beneath our feet as if we were living through a real earthquake.

But worse than the sound of the explosion were the shards that followed…

A tiny piece of shrapnel flew right past my young nephew.. the same child you might remember if you’ve followed my posts… the one who once cried over a piece of candy.

What a strange life this is.

A fragment so small it could be missed by the eye, yet it almost took his life. Only a few centimeters.. maybe even less.. separated it from his fragile body. I saw smoke rising from it… it was still burning, intensely hot, as if just one more degree would’ve melted it completely.

Hours later, I went out to take care of something, and by coincidence, I passed by the area that had been struck. I couldn’t believe what I saw. A place once full of life and people had become nothing but rubble. Complete destruction. A living, breathing heart silenced in an instant.

And the truly terrifying part?

This location was in the middle of a densely populated area.

Thankfully and by "Allah mercy" a warning had been issued beforehand. People had a moment, however brief, to escape. If not for that, the massacre would have been unimaginable.

We survived today… and many others did too.

But the chilling truth still hangs in the air:

Life here constantly sways on the edge of nothingness.

And do you want to know the strangest part?

Everyone tells us that coming back home is a foolish, even insane decision…

But I swear to you, there is no safe place in this entire strip.

We are all standing at the edge of the abyss

The abyss of farewell.

A farewell to a life that was never truly given to us as it should have been.

VETTED ✅️ by @gazavetters (#502) & VETTED ✅️ by @bilal-sala7 (#3)