As someone who lived in Palestine, made lifelong friends there and spent a decade working as a journalist, I had seen the devastation Israel left behind with each brutal attack on the defenceless people of Gaza. The impact on civilians, especially children, in the densely populated territory, was always disturbing for anyone who cared to read about Israel’s attacks. But I could not have ever imagined Israel would carry out the level of destruction and mass extermination it has since October 7.
The official death toll in Gaza has come close to 40,000 by now. An article published by medical journal The Lancet in June estimates that it could reach at least 186,000 – that is 8 percent of Gaza’s population. In addition, more than 90,000 people have been wounded, many with life-altering injuries. The majority of casualties are women and children.
Watching the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza has been soul-wrenching and I, like so many other people, have felt helpless and guilty.
No amount of shocking images of dead Palestinian children, and no amount of reports about war crimes being committed by Israel have managed to sway world leaders to actually do something to stop Israel. Protesting and pleading have seemingly done nothing to convince governments to act. The complete disregard for Palestinian lives by our leaders has been frustrating.
Meanwhile, I – like millions of other people in the West – have no worries about war or occupation in my daily life. I feel guilty I am safe here in the United States, while my government is funding and arming genocidal Israel.
Seeing images and videos of parents picking up their dead children from the rubble of homes and schools has been heart-wrenching. I have a little daughter and I can’t image the helplessness and rage I would feel if I were a Palestinian parent in Gaza.
I have tried my best to fight this paralysis of helplessness and guilt. I have checked regularly with friends in the West Bank and tried to help with whatever I can. Through them, I have often heard heartbreaking stories about people they know in Gaza.
But there has been one story that stuck with me. An old friend in Ramallah told me about Ahmed*, a father from Gaza, who got stuck in the occupied West Bank after October 7, while his whole family remained in the Strip. Ahmed had come to the West Bank to seek treatment for a medical problem he had. When the war started, he wanted to go back but could not find a way.
He was living with the constant pain of separation and dread that something could happen to his family. The stress of not being able to protect his wife and kids was worsening his health condition.
Ahmed had heard about GoFundMe campaigns that raise money to help evacuate Palestinian families from Gaza by paying the fees required by Egyptian brokers – about $5,000 per person. There were some success stories of fundraising that had given him hope that he could get his loved ones to safety, as well.
Ahmed mentioned the idea to one of my friends in the West Bank, who thought I might be able to help set it up since I have a bank account eligible to set up a GoFundMe campaign. I was more than willing to help. I set up the campaign in April and have been trying to fundraise since then.
I have spoken to Ahmed and reached out to his children in Gaza. Their harrowing story has made me that much more motivated to do everything I could to make this campaign successful.
Ahmed’s 20-year-old son Karam gave me a detailed account of the horrors he and his siblings – Mahmoud, 18; Amneh, 15; Saja, 12; Zaina, 9 and Mohammed, 6 – and their mother and aunt – Aman and Zaina – had been through. At the start of the Israeli invasion of Gaza, they had to flee their home in Athe at-Twam district, north of Gaza City with almost nothing but the clothes on their back, as it was indiscriminately bombed. They first headed to an uncle’s home in Tal al-Hawa in southern Gaza City, then to another relative in Jabalia refugee camp. There, in December, the house where they were staying got bombed while they were all inside.
“The walls in the house started to fall around us, with shrapnel flying in all directions,” Karam described. “It was a moment of sheer chaos and destruction.”
Karam’s right leg was broken and he got third-degree burns in the bombing. Six-year-old Mohamad was burned on the face and hands. Other family members also suffered from burns. Because of Israel’s attacks on hospitals, they could not get proper medical treatment. The family heard that there was a functioning hospital in Deir el-Balah, so that’s when they decided to start the journey south to central Gaza to find medical treatment.
Karam described the apocalyptic scenes they witnessed as they travelled south on the last day of Israel’s “safe passage corridor” for Palestinians who wanted to evacuate from Gaza’s north. It was, of course, not a safe passage at all.
“The road was filled with burned dead bodies and burning ambulances … I saw entire families martyred in their cars,” Karam said. “And on our way, the Israeli military boats were firing at us the entire time.”
The family made it to Deir el-Balah in central Gaza where they set up a makeshift tent.
“The size of the tent is five metres by four metres. The girls sleep next to each other and my mother and my younger brothers sleep next to each other. I sleep at the door due to the small area,” Karam said.
Karam described having nothing to sleep on or cover themselves with when they first got there and the weather was still cold. In the summer, conditions worsened, as the heat, flies and mosquitos became unbearable.
Karam and his brother still suffer from their wounds, as they were unable to get the correct medicine necessary to treat their third-degree burns. Their youngest sister Zaina now suffers from PTSD, and panics to the point of having convulsions when she hears Israeli planes flying over – especially when they fly low and make sonic booms. All three of the boys have contracted hepatitis from dirty water and their eyes and skin have started to turn yellow. There is no treatment for this available in Gaza.
The family relies heavily on canned food from aid organisations to survive. Fresh food is too expensive and firewood is increasingly unaffordable. Fuel for cooking has virtually disappeared.
Karam and his siblings spend most of the day searching for water, both seawater and freshwater – the latter being especially difficult to find.
The family lives in constant dread that their tent will be bombed.
“They do not care about children or women, death is the easiest thing in Gaza,” Karam said. “We have reached the point where at any time you can find any kind of body part in an apartment.”
The family had been through so much that when I talked to them the despair was palpable. With everything that has happened since October, it is hard to feel hopeful. But as impossible as hope feels given the ongoing, horrific crimes committed against innocent Palestinians, it is truly the only way forward.
The Rafah border has been closed since Israeli forces attacked it in May. That has put a stop on Egypt-brokered evacuations for now. Ahmed’s family hopes to evacuate once it is reopened whether or not a ceasefire happens. That is because their home and everything they had is destroyed, and the medical problems they have cannot be reliably treated in Gaza. They also want to reunite with Ahmed as soon as possible. If they cannot evacuate, the money would be used for whatever medical treatment they can get and for rebuilding their life in Gaza.
I have to believe that taking some action, any action, could change things for the better. None of us individually can put a stop to Israel’s genocide, but each of us individually can make a huge difference for Palestinian families like Ahmad’s. Fundraising campaigns – even if they take long – give these families hope. It proves to them that the rest of the world cares, that Palestinian lives matter.
*The name of the family’s father has been changed to protect his identity, as Palestinians from Gaza have been targeted by Israeli forces in the occupied West Bank.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
