u/Mo7ammed_2001

Escaping the sweltering heat of the tents, this woman was on the Gaza beach, simply trying to find a place to breathe and escape the oppressive heat. The occupation forces targeted her directly, and the surrounding area was also targeted!

When I told you about our suffering inside the tents, some doubted our words, some complained about publishing such things, and some didn't believe what we were saying.

We live here in a true hell. If you try to find relief and seek a safer, more comfortable place, you might pay with your life. If you express your opinion or speak about your suffering, you are accused of lying. If you ask for help, you might be accused of fraud.

So how can we go on? How can we resist in order to survive under all this?

We ask only to live, to be safe, and to find a place where we don't fear death simply for trying to escape the heat of our tents.

Escaping the sweltering heat of the tents, this woman was on the Gaza beach, simply trying to find a place to breathe and escape the oppressive heat. The occupation forces targeted her directly, and the surrounding area was also targeted!

When I told you about our suffering inside the tents, some doubted our words, some complained about publishing such things, and some didn't believe what we were saying.

We live here in a true hell. If you try to find relief and seek a safer, more comfortable place, you might pay with your life. If you express your opinion or speak about your suffering, you are accused of lying. If you ask for help, you might be accused of fraud.

So how can we go on? How can we resist in order to survive under all this?

We ask only to live, to be safe, and to find a place where we don't fear death simply for trying to escape the heat of our tents.

Escaping the sweltering heat of the tents, this woman was on the Gaza beach, simply trying to find a place to breathe and escape the oppressive heat. The occupation forces targeted her directly, and the surrounding area was also targeted!

When I told you about our suffering inside the tents, some doubted our words, some complained about publishing such things, and some didn't believe what we were saying.

We live here in a true hell. If you try to find relief and seek a safer, more comfortable place, you might pay with your life. If you express your opinion or speak about your suffering, you are accused of lying. If you ask for help, you might be accused of fraud.

So how can we go on? How can we resist in order to survive under all this?

We ask only to live, to be safe, and to find a place where we don't fear death simply for trying to escape the heat of our tents.

Escaping the sweltering heat of the tents, this woman was on the Gaza beach, simply trying to find a place to breathe and escape the oppressive heat. The occupation forces targeted her directly, and the surrounding area was also targeted!

When I told you about our suffering inside the tents, some doubted our words, some complained about publishing such things, and some didn't believe what we were saying.

We live here in a true hell. If you try to find relief and seek a safer, more comfortable place, you might pay with your life. If you express your opinion or speak about your suffering, you are accused of lying. If you ask for help, you might be accused of fraud.

So how can we go on? How can we resist in order to survive under all this?

We ask only to live, to be safe, and to find a place where we don't fear death simply for trying to escape the heat of our tents.

Oh my God… how much longer will we have to wait? How much longer are we expected to endure this? 💔

We are dying every day because of the conditions we are living in. We live with worry, fear, and suffering that no human being can endure forever. Life has become unbearable for us, and we no longer have the strength to endure any more.

We live inside a tent where the temperature exceeds 45°C. Even the water we drink becomes hot, not because we want it to be, but because we have no choice; the water heats up inside the tent, and we cannot find anything that truly quenches our thirst.

We cannot sleep during the day because of the heat, nor at night because of bedbugs, mosquitoes, flies, and all kinds of insects surrounding us. We wake up with the sunrise because the heat becomes unbearable, while the flies continue to surround us throughout the day.

At midday, we pour water over our heads and clothes just to reduce the heat in our bodies a little. Are we really forced to live through all this suffering?

What makes it even harder is that we have to light a fire to cook our food. Imagine standing next to a fire and cooking in this suffocating heat… How can anyone endure this every single day?

But what hurts me the most is our children and my elderly parents. How can they possibly endure all of this?

I have photos and videos of our children with flies covering their faces, and hundreds of flies surrounding my father. What we are living through is beyond words, and I don't believe anyone could endure these conditions for a long time. 💔

I have an idea that could help solve part of this problem, but I cannot carry it out on my own because we have no income to help us solve it. I will share my idea in the first comment, and I hope you will read it and help me find a way to make it happen.

If you have any other ideas or suggestions that could help us, please share them in the comments. Perhaps together we can find the best solution to ease this suffering for us and our children.

We are not looking for a luxurious life. We are simply looking for a way to make life easier and bearable, because we have lost all our strength. 💔🇵🇸

Please share your thoughts. Your idea might be the one that helps us. 🙏

On this day last year, a bag of flour was worth a life in Gaza.

We were eating one meal a day, and sometimes days would pass without us eating anything.

There were food aid distribution points, including points associated with American aid, as well as the Zikim area. People would go there searching for a bag of flour, knowing that their lives could be the price.

Thousands of Gazans died while trying to provide food for their families, and I was one of those who went to those points.

The army was sweeping the area with gunfire over our heads, and movement was forbidden. Anyone who made a move was putting their life at risk.

I remember a young man who tried to cross the road to reach the other side, but he couldn't make it. He was shot in the head in front of thousands of Gazans.

No one could approach him or try to save him because the shooting continued for more than an hour. His blood was pouring onto the ground before our eyes, while we stood helpless, unable to do anything.

There are so many other things I witnessed with my own eyes, but I cannot talk about all of them.

We would go to those places without telling our families because they were not willing to risk our lives for food. But as young men, we could not bear to watch our mothers and children starve in front of our eyes and simply stand by doing nothing.

That was what drove us to go.

On one occasion, after an incredibly difficult journey, I managed to get a bag of flour. I returned to my family with my clothes covered in blood.

I entered the tent and found my family members lying in different corners. My sister had lost consciousness from severe hunger and lack of food.

When I entered carrying the bag of flour, they were happy for a moment, but their happiness did not last. They began checking on me and asking about the blood covering my clothes.

The truth was, I didn't even know it was there.

I only saw the blood after they pointed it out to me.

I was unharmed. I hadn't even suffered a scratch.

That was when I realized that someone who had been near me had been shot, and that the blood on my clothes belonged to him.

I watched with my own eyes as many people fell because of gunfire.

And yet, at that moment, your goal was painfully simple and harsh:

To get out of there alive and return to your family with a bag of flour.

I saw so many people fall, and I couldn't do anything to save them. And I wasn't the only one. There were thousands of us there, each one trying to survive and return to their families with food.

There were families losing their children, their sons, and their fathers for the sake of food.

Yes, this was the famine in Gaza.

A famine we will never be able to forget as long as we live.

While the world was eating and sleeping safely, we were risking our lives for a handful of flour.

A bag of flour was more than just food to us; it meant that your family might eat for another day, while at the same time, it meant that you might never make it home.

This is not a story we heard from someone else.

This is a story we lived through with our bodies and our memories, and we will carry its scars with us for the rest of our lives.

I previously spoke about our struggle to drink water in Gaza, but unfortunately I was met with hurtful and mocking comments. Some people said, "If you can charge your phone, why can't you cool your water?" As if our suffering is something to be questioned or laughed at.

Those words are deeply painful, but this is not a life we chose. It is a reality that has been forced upon us.

In this video, published by Al Jazeera, you will see children in Gaza explaining how they try to cool their drinking water so they can have something refreshing during the day. They place bottles of water on top of their tent overnight and bring them inside before sunrise. It may sound like a clever idea, but unfortunately it is not a practical solution. By midday, the temperature inside the tents rises so much that the water reaches around 40–45°C (104–113°F)—almost the same temperature as the tent itself. That is why, most days, we are forced to drink hot water.

I sincerely hope people will stop minimizing what we are going through or making fun of it. Everyone in Gaza is living through the same hardship, and we have the right to speak about our reality, especially to those who have never experienced these conditions.

If you have doubts about what we say, please don't accuse us of fraud or of inventing our suffering. Simply ask us to document what we are living through, and we will gladly do so with complete transparency. But please, do not let suspicion and mockery be your first response to people who have lost even the most basic necessities of life.

Today we witnessed one of the most heartbreaking scenes imaginable. Hundreds of people came out to mourn 112 martyrs from the Abu Sharia and Al-Hasayna families, whose bodies had lain under the rubble since November 2023. Only now, after arduous efforts and with very limited resources, were the families and rescue teams able to recover them.

I cannot describe the immense pain we feel as we witness this scene. These are not just numbers in the news; these are people who lived among us, with homes, dreams, children, and futures, whose lives were transformed in an instant into names written on shrouds.

Even today, dozens of bodies remain under the rubble, waiting to be recovered for a dignified burial. Even the right to a final farewell has become a distant dream for many families.

When you see this vast number of coffins lined up before you, you realize that Gaza is not just losing individuals, but entire families, entire memories, and generations that should have grown up and lived. We are not asking for the impossible... we simply want people to live with dignity, and to be buried with dignity if they die.

This is the Gaza we live in every day... and what you see today is not just a funeral, but further proof of the magnitude of the tragedy we continue to endure.

Today, the heat was not just a number on the weather screen… it was a suffering that we lived through in every detail.

The heat and humidity were suffocating to the point that we could no longer move normally. We were pouring water over our heads and our clothes while still wearing them, just to try to lower our body temperature for a few minutes. But the water would dry quickly, and the same feeling would return… as if we were standing inside a closed oven.

Every day, sleep has become a battle. At night, we struggle to sleep because of the extreme heat, and as soon as the sun rises, we wake up because of the heat inside the tent. We constantly ask ourselves: How can our children and the elderly endure all of this?

The hardest moment of the day is when the water arrives. It may sound strange to say that we hate the arrival of water, because it is our only source of life and we cannot live without it, but what makes it painful is the way we have to get it.

We carry water in buckets over long distances under the scorching sun, and it often only arrives at midday, when the heat is at its most intense. After returning with the water, we try to relieve ourselves by pouring it over our bodies, but at that moment the heat has already exhausted us, and sweat covers our entire bodies.

We remember how we used to face this weather before the war. In our homes, we could not endure this heat without air conditioners or fans and cold drinks. Today, all of that has become a distant dream.

Here in Gaza, we drink hot water, and there is not even a cool breeze to ease our suffering. The sun makes the tents extremely hot, and inside them the air becomes still and heavy, making even breathing feel exhausting. Sitting is tiring, standing is tiring, and even sleeping has become almost impossible.

As for our children, the most heartbreaking thing is seeing them wanting only to go outside and play, but we are forced to stop them out of fear that they will suffer heatstroke or heat exhaustion. One of the hardest moments is seeing a child asking for the simplest right to play and move freely but you have to keep them inside a hot tent because there is no other choice.

The most painful thing is seeing children and the elderly trying to endure this harsh heat without any means of cooling. Simple things that many people consider normal, such as electricity, a fan, or a cup of cold water, have become distant wishes for us.

We are not asking for luxury… we are only trying to survive one more day in this unbearable heat.

Today, the heat was not just a number on the weather screen… it was a suffering that we lived through in every detail.

The heat and humidity were suffocating to the point that we could no longer move normally. We were pouring water over our heads and our clothes while still wearing them, just to try to lower our body temperature for a few minutes. But the water would dry quickly, and the same feeling would return… as if we were standing inside a closed oven.

Every day, sleep has become a battle. At night, we struggle to sleep because of the extreme heat, and as soon as the sun rises, we wake up because of the heat inside the tent. We constantly ask ourselves: How can our children and the elderly endure all of this?

The hardest moment of the day is when the water arrives. It may sound strange to say that we hate the arrival of water, because it is our only source of life and we cannot live without it, but what makes it painful is the way we have to get it.

We carry water in buckets over long distances under the scorching sun, and it often only arrives at midday, when the heat is at its most intense. After returning with the water, we try to relieve ourselves by pouring it over our bodies, but at that moment the heat has already exhausted us, and sweat covers our entire bodies.

We remember how we used to face this weather before the war. In our homes, we could not endure this heat without air conditioners or fans and cold drinks. Today, all of that has become a distant dream.

Here in Gaza, we drink hot water, and there is not even a cool breeze to ease our suffering. The sun makes the tents extremely hot, and inside them the air becomes still and heavy, making even breathing feel exhausting. Sitting is tiring, standing is tiring, and even sleeping has become almost impossible.

As for our children, the most heartbreaking thing is seeing them wanting only to go outside and play, but we are forced to stop them out of fear that they will suffer heatstroke or heat exhaustion. One of the hardest moments is seeing a child asking for the simplest right to play and move freely but you have to keep them inside a hot tent because there is no other choice.

The most painful thing is seeing children and the elderly trying to endure this harsh heat without any means of cooling. Simple things that many people consider normal, such as electricity, a fan, or a cup of cold water, have become distant wishes for us.

We are not asking for luxury… we are only trying to survive one more day in this unbearable heat.

Today, the heat was not just a number on the weather screen… it was a suffering that we lived through in every detail.

The heat and humidity were suffocating to the point that we could no longer move normally. We were pouring water over our heads and our clothes while still wearing them, just to try to lower our body temperature for a few minutes. But the water would dry quickly, and the same feeling would return… as if we were standing inside a closed oven.

Every day, sleep has become a battle. At night, we struggle to sleep because of the extreme heat, and as soon as the sun rises, we wake up because of the heat inside the tent. We constantly ask ourselves: How can our children and the elderly endure all of this?

The hardest moment of the day is when the water arrives. It may sound strange to say that we hate the arrival of water, because it is our only source of life and we cannot live without it, but what makes it painful is the way we have to get it.

We carry water in buckets over long distances under the scorching sun, and it often only arrives at midday, when the heat is at its most intense. After returning with the water, we try to relieve ourselves by pouring it over our bodies, but at that moment the heat has already exhausted us, and sweat covers our entire bodies.

We remember how we used to face this weather before the war. In our homes, we could not endure this heat without air conditioners or fans and cold drinks. Today, all of that has become a distant dream.

Here in Gaza, we drink hot water, and there is not even a cool breeze to ease our suffering. The sun makes the tents extremely hot, and inside them the air becomes still and heavy, making even breathing feel exhausting. Sitting is tiring, standing is tiring, and even sleeping has become almost impossible.

As for our children, the most heartbreaking thing is seeing them wanting only to go outside and play, but we are forced to stop them out of fear that they will suffer heatstroke or heat exhaustion. One of the hardest moments is seeing a child asking for the simplest right to play and move freely but you have to keep them inside a hot tent because there is no other choice.

The most painful thing is seeing children and the elderly trying to endure this harsh heat without any means of cooling. Simple things that many people consider normal, such as electricity, a fan, or a cup of cold water, have become distant wishes for us.

We are not asking for luxury… we are only trying to survive one more day in this unbearable heat.

Today, the heat was not just a number on the weather screen… it was a suffering that we lived through in every detail.

The heat and humidity were suffocating to the point that we could no longer move normally. We were pouring water over our heads and our clothes while still wearing them, just to try to lower our body temperature for a few minutes. But the water would dry quickly, and the same feeling would return… as if we were standing inside a closed oven.

Every day, sleep has become a battle. At night, we struggle to sleep because of the extreme heat, and as soon as the sun rises, we wake up because of the heat inside the tent. We constantly ask ourselves: How can our children and the elderly endure all of this?

The hardest moment of the day is when the water arrives. It may sound strange to say that we hate the arrival of water, because it is our only source of life and we cannot live without it, but what makes it painful is the way we have to get it.

We carry water in buckets over long distances under the scorching sun, and it often only arrives at midday, when the heat is at its most intense. After returning with the water, we try to relieve ourselves by pouring it over our bodies, but at that moment the heat has already exhausted us, and sweat covers our entire bodies.

We remember how we used to face this weather before the war. In our homes, we could not endure this heat without air conditioners or fans and cold drinks. Today, all of that has become a distant dream.

Here in Gaza, we drink hot water, and there is not even a cool breeze to ease our suffering. The sun makes the tents extremely hot, and inside them the air becomes still and heavy, making even breathing feel exhausting. Sitting is tiring, standing is tiring, and even sleeping has become almost impossible.

As for our children, the most heartbreaking thing is seeing them wanting only to go outside and play, but we are forced to stop them out of fear that they will suffer heatstroke or heat exhaustion. One of the hardest moments is seeing a child asking for the simplest right to play and move freely but you have to keep them inside a hot tent because there is no other choice.

The most painful thing is seeing children and the elderly trying to endure this harsh heat without any means of cooling. Simple things that many people consider normal, such as electricity, a fan, or a cup of cold water, have become distant wishes for us.

We are not asking for luxury… we are only trying to survive one more day in this unbearable heat.

Every day before I go to sleep, I start thinking about how I'm going to be able to sleep in this heat.

And every morning I wake up drenched in sweat, as if I've been sleeping inside an oven, not a tent.

If I go outside the tent, the sun's heat is even worse.

And if I stay inside, the tent turns into a ball of fire.

So… where do I go?

I'm not asking for a car, or a fancy house, or a life of luxury.

I swear to God, all I'm asking for is the most basic human right: a place to live with dignity, and to sleep peacefully without waking up every hour from the intense heat.

Has asking for a normal life become a miracle?

Has the dream of sleeping comfortably, eating in peace, and living an ordinary day like everyone else become… an impossible dream?

I'm exhausted.

I'm exhausted from the heat, exhausted from waiting, and exhausted from the feeling that life goes on everywhere except here.

Perhaps some people will say: "Be patient."

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

Every day before I go to sleep, I start thinking about how I'm going to be able to sleep in this heat.

And every morning I wake up drenched in sweat, as if I've been sleeping inside an oven, not a tent.

If I go outside the tent, the sun's heat is even worse.

And if I stay inside, the tent turns into a ball of fire.

So… where do I go?

I'm not asking for a car, or a fancy house, or a life of luxury.

I swear to God, all I'm asking for is the most basic human right: a place to live with dignity, and to sleep peacefully without waking up every hour from the intense heat.

Has asking for a normal life become a miracle?

Has the dream of sleeping comfortably, eating in peace, and living an ordinary day like everyone else become… an impossible dream?

I'm exhausted.

I'm exhausted from the heat, exhausted from waiting, and exhausted from the feeling that life goes on everywhere except here.

Perhaps some people will say: "Be patient."

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

Every day before I go to sleep, I start thinking about how I'm going to be able to sleep in this heat.

And every morning I wake up drenched in sweat, as if I've been sleeping inside an oven, not a tent.

If I go outside the tent, the sun's heat is even worse.

And if I stay inside, the tent turns into a ball of fire.

So… where do I go?

I'm not asking for a car, or a fancy house, or a life of luxury.

I swear to God, all I'm asking for is the most basic human right: a place to live with dignity, and to sleep peacefully without waking up every hour from the intense heat.

Has asking for a normal life become a miracle?

Has the dream of sleeping comfortably, eating in peace, and living an ordinary day like everyone else become… an impossible dream?

I'm exhausted.

I'm exhausted from the heat, exhausted from waiting, and exhausted from the feeling that life goes on everywhere except here.

Perhaps some people will say: "Be patient."

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

I am patient… but even patience has its limits.

There are alarming indicators on the ground regarding what the coming period may hold in the Gaza Strip.

The arrival of military vehicles at the State Junction and the placement of yellow concrete blocks there raise serious concerns about the evolving situation in the Zeitoun neighborhood. Residents now face the prospect of further pressure and forced displacement if the escalation continues.

If this advance continues, the concerns are not limited to the Zeitoun neighborhood alone, but could extend to other areas such as the Shuja'iyya neighborhood and the neighborhoods east of Salah al-Din Street, including the Tuffah neighborhood and other areas in the eastern part of the Strip.

What is happening requires urgent monitoring by Arab and international media, because any expansion of military operations could create a new reality that exacerbates the suffering of civilians and increases the number of displaced people who are already living in dire humanitarian conditions.

Reports indicate contact has been made with the administration of the Abu Murheil camp in the Zeitoun neighborhood, east of Gaza City, requesting the evacuation of the area under the pretext of carrying out a limited operation, coinciding with the placement of the yellow line near Salah al-Din Street. The past period has witnessed the displacement of thousands of residents through evacuation orders, communications and threats, and today there is a need for serious international action to follow up on what is happening and prevent the expansion of the circle of displacement and human suffering.

A thousand congratulations to Spain, its people, government, and king! You truly deserve this victory.

Spain triumphed first and foremost with its principled, humane, and free stance in support of oppressed peoples, even before its World Cup victory.

Lamine Yamal, you are a hero, you are free, and you will forever live in our hearts for raising the flag of beloved Palestine.

A thousand congratulations to the Spanish people for their victory, achieved through their principled stance in support of Palestine, the Palestinian cause, and the Palestinian people.

The blood of our martyrs and our love for Palestine are greater than anything else, but our position is with Spain, its football team, its brilliant star Lamine Yamal, its Prime Minister, and its free and noble people.

Your political stances, your refusal to support the Zionist enemy in its war on Gaza, and your recognition of the State of Palestine—these are what compelled us to love and support you. Football, and specifically the World Cup matches, unites peoples and cultivates love and respect among the nations of the world. Our enemies, however, do not understand these values and principles; they know only the language of blood, destruction, and genocide.

A thousand congratulations to Spain, its people, government, and king! You truly deserve this victory.

Spain triumphed first and foremost with its principled, humane, and principled stance in support of oppressed peoples, even before its victory in the World Cup.

Lamine Yamal, you are a hero, you are free, and you will forever live in our hearts for raising the flag of beloved Palestine.

A thousand congratulations to the Spanish people for their victory, achieved through their principled stance in support of Palestine, the Palestinian cause, and the Palestinian people.

The blood of our martyrs and our love for Palestine are greater than anything else, but our position is with Spain, its football team, its brilliant star Lamine Yamal, its Prime Minister, and its free and noble people.

Your political stances, your refusal to support the Zionist enemy in its war on Gaza, and your recognition of the State of Palestine these are what compelled us to love and support you. Football, and specifically the World Cup matches, unites peoples and cultivates love and respect among the nations of the world. Our enemies, however, do not understand these values and principles; they know only the language of blood, destruction, and genocide.

Every day in Gaza, a lone survivor emerges from the rubble, and entire families are wiped off the map.

They said the war is over... but how can it be over when the bloodshed continues daily? How can it be over when we wake and sleep to the sounds of shelling, bidding farewell to our loved ones one by one?

Every day we lose a father, a mother, a child, or a friend. Every day the number of orphans grows, and the pain intensifies, a pain that words cannot describe.

How long will this train of death keep rolling? Has our life become worthless? Even animals in the wild show mercy to their young, but who will have mercy on the children of Gaza?

What is the sin of a child who wakes up to find his entire family gone in an instant? Yesterday he had a mother to hold him, a father to protect him, and siblings to share his dreams... and today all that remains are memories and tears.

How will this child face life alone? And how will we answer when he asks, "Where is my mother? Where is my father? Where is my sister? I want to go to them."

This is not the story of one child, but the story of thousands of children who have lost everything. They are victims of a war that has robbed them of their families, their safety, and their future.

Gaza continues to bleed. And we die every day.

Do not forget the children of Gaza. Do not let their suffering become just another news item.

Raise your voices for humanity, and for every child's right to live in safety.