Rebuild Hope: Support Our Teachers in GAZA
Mr. Rabah
After getting married in 2017, my dream of building a home began. The first seven years of marriage were spent in a room within the family house, where three children were born. During that time, I worked tirelessly to build an independent home. Finally, in July 2023, I managed to move into my new house, which had gone through difficult stages of struggle and determination. Despite the burden of installments and debts caused by the house (approximately $14,000 in debts and installments), the joy of owning a home was greater and more encompassing.
Two months after moving into my new home, the war broke out. Seven months into the war, I left my home as a displaced person. Its image remains in my eyes and heart, and I constantly think about the details of building it, how to pay off its installments and debts, and how to repair and renovate the damages it has suffered.
Ms. Hala
Hello, I am Hala from the heart of Gaza. I want to share my story with you.
I am 26 years old, a mother to a little girl who is one year and three months old. She has spent nine months of her life in fear of the sounds of bombings and swarms of warplanes. Our lives used to be filled with joy and laught, but our dreams turned into nightmares with the onset of the war on Gaza nine months ago. Everything changed. The occupation destroyed our home, which was our safe haven. We were injured, as were some of our relatives, but by God's grace, we are still alive, and we thank Him for that.
I lost my job as a remote teacher, and my husband lost his source of income when the occupation destroyed his office. We were forced to flee and live in tents, searching for a place to protect us from the bombings, even though the bombings reach every place in Gaza, and even the tents are not safe. In addition to the harsh conditions we suffer here, with water shortages, power outages, cooking gas, medicines, and basic life necessities, the days have become darker, and we count the days one after another.
Despite all the challenges we have been forced to endure due to the ongoing war, we still have a glimmer of hope and pray to God that this pain will end and peace will return.
Every night, I tell my daughter about my big dreams and create a beautiful imagination for her to distract her a little from all this destruction. My daughter will grow up to be strong, brave, and blooming, just like her name (Tolin).
Every night, we hope that the dawn will bring new hope and that better days will come. With every prayer, we feel that there are those who stand with us and support us in our darkest times.
Mr. Muhammed
The place is very quiet, without chaos, without my child.
My wife decided to take our child with her mother to visit her aunt in the east of Khan Younis. This means a rough road, a long distance, and a lengthy trip. They wouldn’t risk this journey for a short stay, so they planned to stay longer at her aunt’s house.
On the same day, Zionist tanks advanced east of Khan Younis. Terrified, I rushed from my family’s place in Mawasi Khan Younis to reach them. Thankfully, God protected them, and my worst fears didn’t come true.
My sweet child loves his aunt. Oh, and he adores her chickens. Do you remember when I mentioned the chickens her aunt brought from Khan Younis during their displacement? They were housed at my wife’s family’s place.
My wife's father has three sons. The eldest is studying a specialized medical field in Egypt. The second and third are at home, one in high school and the other in sixth grade, carrying twelve years of wisdom in his young mind. Like all fathers, he wanted to provide for his sons. Their house was initially one floor, so he built two more, making it a three-story building. He constructed it brick by brick, incurring significant costs and years of installments. I witnessed the daily progress until it became a skeleton. My wife's parents explained their plans, pointing to empty spaces, and saying, "Here’s the bathroom," "Here’s the kitchen," "Here’s the bedroom," and so on. They included me in discussions because my father-in-law values my perspective, even if it's not always implemented. It broadens horizons. They meticulously planned everything for their three sons just before the tragedies began.
When my wife's aunt came, she put the chickens in a room on the third floor. After a series of events, both good and bad, it was decided that the displaced from Gaza would move to the second floor, where there was only one room, a yard, and water, offering them some comfort and privacy.
Those chickens were displaced for months, and my child developed an endless love for them. He wakes up saying, "Papa...Dada," meaning chicken. Throughout the day, he repeats, "Dada," wanting to see the chicken. "Papa, Coco, take me to the rooster, I want to see the rooster."
It was a sad day for him when my wife’s aunt took her chickens back to Khan Younis. For days, my child was in shock, saying, "Dada...gone! Dada...gone!"
I was fortunate to be displaced at their house. My apartment in a rental building was closer to the east, in a more dangerous area. Unable to pay the rent, I stayed, or rather, was displaced, at my wife’s family’s house, where five families lived together. We all left the house that sheltered us, which now stands in ruins.
With all the plans and construction my wife’s family undertook step by step for their future and their children, my mother-in-law often shared her plans to stay on the ground floor near the garden, intending to change some walls and stairs. They hadn’t finished paying the installments for the new construction when everything vanished! The Zionists bombed it until it was reduced to rubble, like crushed biscuits under a mighty hand.
I can’t describe their loss. Building for 27 years, only to see it disappear in the blink of an eye. How can they regain those lost years?
We are now without shelter, living a hard life, suffering from heat, cramped spaces, and lack of money. The tents are unbearable during the day. From seven in the morning until six in the evening, it’s impossible to stay inside. No matter how scorching the sun is, it’s kinder than the tent. So, we sit in the tent’s shade, hoping for some relief from the heat.
Adding to it, my fear for my wife and child. The missiles and explosions are heard daily, the ground shakes repeatedly, and the helicopters and reconnaissance planes never stop making noise. It’s a harsh life!