Having lived in Palestine, made long-time friends there, and worked as a journalist for ten years, I have seen first-hand the devastation that Israel has left behind with each brutal attack on the defenseless population of Gaza. The impact on civilians, especially children, in this densely populated territory has always been disturbing to anyone who cares to read the news about Israeli attacks. But I could never have imagined that Israel would engage in such a level of destruction and mass extermination since October 7.
The official death toll in Gaza is approaching 40,000. According to a June article in the medical journal The Lancet, the figure could be as high as 186,000, or 8 percent of Gaza’s population. In addition, more than 90,000 people have been injured, many with serious injuries. The majority of the victims are women and children.
Seeing the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza is heartbreaking and, like so many others, I feel helpless and guilty.
No amount of shocking images of dead Palestinian children or reports of Israeli war crimes have convinced world leaders to do anything to stop Israel. Protests and pleas have apparently done nothing to convince governments to act. Our leaders’ utter disregard for Palestinian lives is frustrating.
Meanwhile, like millions of others in the West, I don’t have to worry about war or occupation in my daily life. I feel guilty about being safe here in the United States, while my government funds and arms a genocidal Israel.
Seeing images and videos of parents picking up their dead children from the rubble of their homes and schools broke my heart. I have a young daughter and I cannot imagine the helplessness and rage I would feel if I were a Palestinian parent in Gaza.
I did my best to fight against this paralysis caused by helplessness and guilt. I regularly reached out to friends in the West Bank and tried to help them as best I could. Through them, I often heard heartbreaking stories about people they knew in Gaza.
But there is one story that stuck with me. An old friend from Ramallah told me about Ahmed*, a father from Gaza who found himself stuck in the occupied West Bank after October 7, while his entire family remained in the Gaza Strip. Ahmed had come to the West Bank to seek treatment for a medical problem. When the war started, he wanted to return but could not find a solution.
He lived with the constant pain of separation and the fear that something might happen to his family. The stress of not being able to protect his wife and children worsened his health.
Ahmed had heard about GoFundMe campaigns that raise money to help evacuate Palestinian families from Gaza by paying the fees charged by Egyptian intermediaries, which is about $5,000 per person. Some examples of successful fundraising gave him hope that he could also get his loved ones to safety.
Ahmed brought the idea up with a friend of mine in the West Bank, who thought I might be able to help him set up this campaign, since I have a bank account that allows for a GoFundMe campaign. I was more than willing to help. I started the campaign in April and have been trying to raise money ever since.
I spoke to Ahmed and reached out to his children in Gaza. Their poignant story gave me even more motivation to do everything I can to make this campaign a success.
Ahmed’s son Karam, 20, told me in detail about the horrors he and his siblings – Mahmoud, 18; Amneh, 15; Saja, 12; Zaina, 9; and Mohammed, 6 – as well as their mother and aunt – Aman and Zaina – experienced. At the beginning of the Israeli invasion of Gaza, they had to flee their home in the Athe at-Twam district, north of Gaza City, with little more than the clothes on their backs, as it was indiscriminately bombed. They first went to an uncle’s house in Tal al-Hawa, south of Gaza City, and then to another relative’s house in Jabalia refugee camp. There, in December, the house where they were staying was bombed while they were all inside.
“The walls of the house started to collapse around us, and shrapnel was flying in all directions,” Karam said. “It was a moment of absolute chaos and destruction.”
Karam suffered a broken right leg and third-degree burns in the bombing. Six-year-old Mohamad suffered burns to his face and hands. Other family members also suffered burns. Due to Israeli attacks on hospitals, they were unable to receive proper medical care. The family heard that there was a functioning hospital in Deir el-Balah, so that’s when they decided to travel to southern Gaza to receive medical care.
Karam described the apocalyptic scenes they witnessed as they headed south on the last day of Israel’s “safe passage” for Palestinians seeking to evacuate northern Gaza. It was, of course, not safe passage at all.
“The road was full of charred corpses and burning ambulances… I saw entire families martyred in their cars,” Karam said. “And on our way, Israeli military boats were shooting at us all the time.”
The family managed to reach Deir el-Balah in central Gaza, where they set up a makeshift tent.
“The tent is five meters by four meters. The girls sleep side by side, my mother and my younger brothers sleep side by side. I sleep at the door because of the limited space,” Karam explains.
Karam said that when they arrived, they had nothing to sleep in or cover themselves with and it was still cold. In the summer, conditions worsened, with the heat, flies and mosquitoes becoming unbearable.
Karam and his brother are still suffering from their injuries, as they have been unable to obtain the necessary medication to treat their third-degree burns. Their younger sister, Zaina, now suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and panics to the point of having convulsions when she hears Israeli planes flying overhead, especially when they fly low and make sonic booms. All three boys have contracted hepatitis from the dirty water and their eyes and skin have started to turn yellow. There is no treatment for the disease in Gaza.
To survive, the family relies heavily on canned goods provided by aid organizations. Fresh food is too expensive and firewood is increasingly unaffordable. Cooking fuel has all but disappeared.
Karam and his siblings spend most of the day searching for water, both seawater and fresh water – the latter being particularly hard to come by.
The family lives in constant fear that their tent will be bombed.
“They don’t 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 piece of a body in an apartment.”
The family had been through so much that when I spoke to them, the despair was palpable. With everything that has happened since October, it is hard to feel hopeful. But even if hope seems impossible in light of the 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. This has put an end to Egyptian-organized evacuations for the time being. Ahmed’s family hopes to be able to evacuate as soon as the border reopens, regardless of whether a ceasefire is reached. Their home and everything they owned are destroyed, and the medical problems they suffer from cannot be reliably treated in Gaza. They also want to be reunited with Ahmed as soon as possible. If they cannot evacuate, the money will be used to pay for medical care and rebuild their lives in Gaza.
I have to believe that taking action, any action, could change things for the better. None of us can stop the Israeli genocide, but each of us can make a huge difference for Palestinian families like Ahmad’s. Fundraising campaigns – even if they take time – give these families hope. They show them that the rest of the world cares, that Palestinian lives matter.
*The father’s name has been changed to protect his identity, as Palestinians in Gaza have been targeted by Israeli forces in the occupied West Bank.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.
