We die every day... just for a bag of flour
In Gaza, hunger is no longer our only pain—every aspect of life has become a battle for survival.
Yesterday, we left our tent at 2:00 PM, searching for hope... searching for a single bag of flour.
We waited until 7:00 AM the next day, without a morsel of food or a drop of water.
We slept in the streets, on sand and gravel, without shelter, without blankets—only a cold sky and the sound of bombing all around us.
It was the worst night of our lives.
Airstrikes rained down on us, tanks opened fire, gunboats fired at us...
All this—just because we were trying to survive, trying to bring a bag of flour.
Back home, my family couldn't sleep all night.
They were afraid for us, praying we would return safely, praying we would bring back that bag of flour—a treasure in these dark days, their only hope.
But when we returned empty-handed, I felt something breaking inside me.
I felt broken, defeated... How could I return with nothing?
After all that fear, all that waiting, all that hope—and still, I had no flour in my hand.
A bag of flour that cost only $10 before the war now costs more than $600, and even when it's available, it's almost impossible to obtain.
We went to the coastal road—the only place aid is allowed in.
But the occupation prevents aid from reaching the warehouses or being distributed fairly.
They want us to starve, to fight, to collapse from within.
Every few hours they would tell us, "Aid is coming!" We ran with hope... but bullets chased us, our hearts shattered again and again.
We're not living; we're dying every day. We're dying of hunger, exhaustion, fear, humiliation, and despair.
Please... help us. Help us survive. Help us bring something to our families.
Even the smallest donation can change everything.
gofundme.com/f/help-my-famil…
@SanaSaeed @Louis_Allday @Lowkey0nline