u/Amr_Abu_Ouda

I don't know if I'll be alive in 2 years

I'm not saying that for sympathy. It's just the thought that lives with me now. Every morning. Like a shadow that followed me into the tent and never left.

My name is Qusay. I'm 23. I live in Gaza. I wake up and the first thing I feel is weight. Not tiredness but weight. I get up anyway. Put on one of my 3 shirts. Don't eat because there's nothing to eat. Step outside and start walking.

Two hours. Every day. On foot.

The streets I walk through don't look like streets anymore. Buildings cut open like they were nothing. Children sitting on rubble with nowhere to go. I used to feel something every time I saw them. Now I just walk past. That's what months of this does to you, it doesn't make you cruel, it makes you numb. And the numbness scares me more than anything. I volunteer as an English teacher. Over 400 students. When I arrive and see them waiting, something in me shifts. That tent classroom is the one hour of the day that still feels human.

But my students are not okay. The light behind their eyes is dim. They're not kids right now. They're survivors who happen to be sitting in a classroom. So am I. Before the war I had a home. A bed that was mine. My mother's voice in the kitchen. My father in his chair. Small things I didn't know I was collecting as memories until they were gone.

Now we are five people in a tent. We eat when there's something to eat. We sleep when the night lets us. We wake up and do it again. I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty. I'm writing this because I am a real person and this is my real life and sometimes you just need someone outside of all this to know that it's still happening.

That we are still here.

I'm posting this here because I think people in this sub actually get what Sheffield means, more than a general sub would. Sorry if it's not the right place, mods, feel free to remove it.

My name is Qusay, I'm 23, from Gaza. I studied English Language and Teaching Methods and since I graduated I've been teaching English to over 400 students in grades 8 to 10, six days a week. It's through a program partnered with UNICEF. Alongside that I also volunteer teaching English to secondary students, it's not part of the paid work, I just do it because I want more of them to have access to it.

Earlier this year I got into the MA in Applied Linguistics and TESOL at Sheffield, starting this September. I never had a scholarship for it, I was trying to find one this whole time, applying to different ones, emailing organisations, asking around, writing more emails than I can count at this point. Some never replied. Some replied and said no. A couple looked promising for a while and then just stopped responding.

So right now I have the acceptance letter but not a way to actually get there. Visa costs, the travel itself, all the first steps before you even start the degree, that's the part I'm stuck on. Not because I didn't try to find another way, I tried basically everything I could think of, I just ran out of things to try.

I put some of my certificates below from over the years. I want to show them not to prove anything but because they're what's left to show for the effort, studying and teaching through everything that's been happening here.

A friend of my family, Ege, from Germany, saw how stuck I was on this and decided to set up a campaign on his own, without me asking him to, just to try and get me past this last part. We're a bit past halfway now. It's verified through lifeline4gaza and radiowatermelon. Happy to verify anything else if needed, whatever people want to see.

Every morning, my brother Ahmed and I pick up empty containers and start walking.

Not to school. Not to work. Just to look for water.

We walk for kilometers under the burning summer sun, carrying heavy jugs that get harder to lift with every step. This isn't clean drinking water. It isn't safe. It's simply the only water we can find.

This video shows the whole journey, from the moment we leave our tent until we finally fill the containers and make the long walk back. It looks simple on camera, but no video can show how exhausting it really is. No words can make you feel what it's like when something as basic as water becomes a daily struggle.

This isn't something you see on the news. You might hear that there's a ceasefire, but our reality never stopped being a fight for survival.

Why are we still living like this?

Why does finding water have to take half the day?

Why has this become normal for us?

Sometimes I wonder if this is what the rest of our lives will look like. Walking under the sun for water that isn't even clean, then returning to a tent and doing it all again the next morning.

We are not asking for luxury. We are trying to reach the most basic thing a human being needs to stay alive.

I'm sharing this because I want people outside Gaza to see what life actually looks like here. Not the headlines. Not the numbers.

Just one ordinary day in our lives.

This is the journey you don't see.

This is our reality.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I opened the University of Sheffield website again today.

I hadn’t done that in a while.

When I first got my acceptance, I was on there almost every day. I’d look at the campus, student accommodation, even just wandering around nearby streets on Google Maps. It was like… an escape I guess. A way to imagine something outside of everything happening here.

Then I stopped.

At some point it just started hurting too much. Because getting accepted wasn’t the hard part. Leaving Gaza, covering the costs, actually making it there… that part was still impossible. So I just stopped opening it.

Then I posted here.

I didn’t really know what would happen. I just felt like I had run out of options.

And over the past few days… things changed more than I expected.

We’re now more than halfway to the first goal. From complete strangers.

Today I opened the website again.

It felt different this time. I can’t really explain it properly. Just… less heavy.

I’m still scared. I don’t want to believe it too early. There’s still a long way to go before anything actually becomes real.

But I wanted to come back and say thank you.

To everyone who donated, shared, or even just read the post and cared for a second.

It really did change things for me.

If anyone else is able to help push this a bit further, the link is still there.

I don’t really know how to end this. I just didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.

I didn’t really plan to write this.

A few weeks ago I got accepted to the University of Sheffield. After years of studying through war, instability, and constant disruption in Gaza, it honestly felt like something finally went right.

Since then I’ve been trying everything to make it possible: scholarships, emails, organisations, anyone I could reach out to.

Most replies never came, and the few that did didn’t lead anywhere.

The acceptance is real. The problem is everything around it.

Right now I don’t have a way to cover the costs needed to leave Gaza and actually take the place. So the offer I worked years for is just… stuck there, out of reach.

It’s hard to explain what that feels like. You reach something you’ve been working toward for years, but you still can’t actually get there.

I’m still looking for any possible way forward, but at the moment I’m stuck at the part where effort isn’t enough anymore.

I’ve attached my offer letter and certificates for context.

I don't know if I'll be alive in 2 years

I'm not saying that for sympathy. It's just the thought that lives with me now. Every morning. Like a shadow that followed me into the tent and never left.

My name is Qusay. I'm 23. I live in Gaza. I wake up and the first thing I feel is weight. Not tiredness but weight. I get up anyway. Put on one of my 3 shirts. Don't eat because there's nothing to eat. Step outside and start walking.

Two hours. Every day. On foot.

The streets I walk through don't look like streets anymore. Buildings cut open like they were nothing. Children sitting on rubble with nowhere to go. I used to feel something every time I saw them. Now I just walk past. That's what months of this does to you, it doesn't make you cruel, it makes you numb. And the numbness scares me more than anything. I volunteer as an English teacher. Over 400 students. When I arrive and see them waiting, something in me shifts. That tent classroom is the one hour of the day that still feels human.

But my students are not okay. The light behind their eyes is dim. They're not kids right now. They're survivors who happen to be sitting in a classroom. So am I. Before the war I had a home. A bed that was mine. My mother's voice in the kitchen. My father in his chair. Small things I didn't know I was collecting as memories until they were gone.

Now we are five people in a tent. We eat when there's something to eat. We sleep when the night lets us. We wake up and do it again. I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty. I'm writing this because I am a real person and this is my real life and sometimes you just need someone outside of all this to know that it's still happening.

That we are still here.

I don't know if I'll be alive in 2 years

I'm not saying that for sympathy. It's just the thought that lives with me now. Every morning. Like a shadow that followed me into the tent and never left.

My name is Qusay. I'm 23. I live in Gaza. I wake up and the first thing I feel is weight. Not tiredness but weight. I get up anyway. Put on one of my 3 shirts. Don't eat because there's nothing to eat. Step outside and start walking.

Two hours. Every day. On foot.

The streets I walk through don't look like streets anymore. Buildings cut open like they were nothing. Children sitting on rubble with nowhere to go. I used to feel something every time I saw them. Now I just walk past. That's what months of this does to you, it doesn't make you cruel, it makes you numb. And the numbness scares me more than anything. I volunteer as an English teacher. Over 400 students. When I arrive and see them waiting, something in me shifts. That tent classroom is the one hour of the day that still feels human.

But my students are not okay. The light behind their eyes is dim. They're not kids right now. They're survivors who happen to be sitting in a classroom. So am I. Before the war I had a home. A bed that was mine. My mother's voice in the kitchen. My father in his chair. Small things I didn't know I was collecting as memories until they were gone.

Now we are five people in a tent. We eat when there's something to eat. We sleep when the night lets us. We wake up and do it again. I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty. I'm writing this because I am a real person and this is my real life and sometimes you just need someone outside of all this to know that it's still happening.

That we are still here.

I filmed this video of my little brother today.

He was running around smiling and playing, and for a second it looked like such a normal childhood moment. But when I looked at what he was actually playing with, it broke me.

He had taken a cola can and turned it into something like a little fan, then stuck it onto an empty water bottle. He runs while holding the bottle, and because of the air, the fan spins. That became his toy. That became his game.

And the worst part is that he genuinely loves it.

I keep watching him and thinking: how did it come to this? How did children in Gaza get reduced to making toys out of trash and ruins just to have one small moment of fun? Why does my little brother have to search for happiness in an empty bottle and a cola can instead of having real toys, a safe playground, and a normal life like any child anywhere else?

He doesn’t have parks to run in. He doesn’t have safe streets. The streets around us are destroyed. Childhood here has been stripped down to survival, and even play has become something children have to invent from whatever they can find around them.

It hurts me in a way I can’t fully explain. Because he is still just a child. He should be worrying about cartoons, toys, and games. Not growing up surrounded by destruction. Not learning how to make a toy out of scraps because there is nothing else.

People always talk about the numbers coming out of Gaza, but behind every number is a child like my brother. A child trying to create joy with almost nothing. A child who still deserves softness, safety, laughter, and a real childhood.

I’m sharing this because I want people to see what this war has done, even to the smallest details of life. Not only the deaths, not only the hunger, not only the destruction. But also what it steals from children day by day is their normal lives, their innocence, and the simple things that should never have been taken from them in the first place.

My little brother deserved better than this. Every child here does.