Save Marah and Her Family From Genocide In Gaza
United States
months left
My Name is Marah Fojo. I’m 18 years old, and I’m reaching out with a heavy heart. My family and I are victims of the ongoing genocide in Gaza. We’ve lost nearly everything—and now we’re struggling just to survive.
Our Story:
We were a family of six in Rafah: my parents, my sister Angham, and my brothers Muhammad and Ibrahim.
On September 19, 2024, my brother Muhammad went missing. A year later, we discovered that he had been brutally killed by occupation forces, and his body had been hidden. The pain of losing him this way is indescribable.
My father lost his leg due to the violence. Our home was destroyed—along with every memory it held.
Now, we live in a tent with no protection from the weather, no clean water, little food, and no medical care. My father’s condition continues to worsen.
-How You Can Help:
We urgently need support to:
Find safe shelter
Access food, water, and clothing
Treat my father’s injuries
Honor Muhammad’s memory and keep our family together
Every Bit Helps
Your donation brings us closer to safety, dignity, and healing. Every share spreads our story. Every kind word gives us strength.
Thank you for your compassion. Together, we can make a difference.
The genocide is still ongoing here in Gaza, and my family is still suffering the horrors of war—hunger, siege, destruction, and bombardment.
It’s as if the whole world has united to betray the people of Gaza.
As if the sight of our children and women dying has become normal.
As if the conscience of the entire world has died.
Today, I am here to scream and scream, hoping I might awaken your conscience,
hoping I might awaken your humanity.
Tell me, what crime did my little brother Ibrahim commit to be deprived of the most basic necessities of life—food and water?
What did he do to be denied a home to shelter him, or a school to educate him?
What did Ibrahim do to be stripped of the innocence of his childhood?
Save Ibrahim’s childhood, all of you with living consciences,
all of you whose hearts still carry humanity.
The genocide has returned to Gaza once again, but this time it is different — as if it were the horrors of the Day of Judgment. A never-ending stream of the martyrs’ blood. Children killed in their Eid clothes, medics executed in cold blood, journalists burned alive in front of TV cameras.
And the world remains in a terrifying silence. We are being exterminated in Gaza, and the world does nothing.
At the beginning of the war, I lost my eldest brother, Mohammed. My father lost his left leg. Our home was completely destroyed. For a full year, my family and I have been displaced, living in a tent — a tent that tears when the winter wind blows and turns into an oven under the summer sun.
We have been displaced several times in search of safety, but never found it.
Yes, the war returned. A new evacuation order came to our devastated city of Rafah. We were displaced once again, and the journey of suffering began again. We fled under bombing, under relentless death. We fled knowing there is no safe place in Gaza.
Then came the terrible night when tents around us were bombed. The scattered body parts — it was an unbearably painful moment that will never be forgotten.
Since that night, my younger brother Ibrahim can only fall asleep trembling in my arms, whispering to me: “Marah, I don’t want to die. Hide me.”
For the sake of Ibrahim’s survival, and for the sake of my family — be by our side. Donate, even a little.
Because even a little can be a lifeline for my family, who are enduring hunger, oppression, and genocide in Gaza.
Paul Waleryszek
-
$30,000.00
Funding Goal -
$0.00
Funds Raised -
0
Days to go -
Campaign Never Ends
Campaign End Method
Product Description
United States
months left
My Name is Marah Fojo. I’m 18 years old, and I’m reaching out with a heavy heart. My family and I are victims of the ongoing genocide in Gaza. We’ve lost nearly everything—and now we’re struggling just to survive.
Our Story:
We were a family of six in Rafah: my parents, my sister Angham, and my brothers Muhammad and Ibrahim.
On September 19, 2024, my brother Muhammad went missing. A year later, we discovered that he had been brutally killed by occupation forces, and his body had been hidden. The pain of losing him this way is indescribable.
My father lost his leg due to the violence. Our home was destroyed—along with every memory it held.
Now, we live in a tent with no protection from the weather, no clean water, little food, and no medical care. My father’s condition continues to worsen.
-How You Can Help:
We urgently need support to:
Find safe shelter
Access food, water, and clothing
Treat my father’s injuries
Honor Muhammad’s memory and keep our family together
Every Bit Helps
Your donation brings us closer to safety, dignity, and healing. Every share spreads our story. Every kind word gives us strength.
Thank you for your compassion. Together, we can make a difference.
The genocide is still ongoing here in Gaza, and my family is still suffering the horrors of war—hunger, siege, destruction, and bombardment.
It’s as if the whole world has united to betray the people of Gaza.
As if the sight of our children and women dying has become normal.
As if the conscience of the entire world has died.
Today, I am here to scream and scream, hoping I might awaken your conscience,
hoping I might awaken your humanity.
Tell me, what crime did my little brother Ibrahim commit to be deprived of the most basic necessities of life—food and water?
What did he do to be denied a home to shelter him, or a school to educate him?
What did Ibrahim do to be stripped of the innocence of his childhood?
Save Ibrahim’s childhood, all of you with living consciences,
all of you whose hearts still carry humanity.
The genocide has returned to Gaza once again, but this time it is different — as if it were the horrors of the Day of Judgment. A never-ending stream of the martyrs’ blood. Children killed in their Eid clothes, medics executed in cold blood, journalists burned alive in front of TV cameras.
And the world remains in a terrifying silence. We are being exterminated in Gaza, and the world does nothing.
At the beginning of the war, I lost my eldest brother, Mohammed. My father lost his left leg. Our home was completely destroyed. For a full year, my family and I have been displaced, living in a tent — a tent that tears when the winter wind blows and turns into an oven under the summer sun.
We have been displaced several times in search of safety, but never found it.
Yes, the war returned. A new evacuation order came to our devastated city of Rafah. We were displaced once again, and the journey of suffering began again. We fled under bombing, under relentless death. We fled knowing there is no safe place in Gaza.
Then came the terrible night when tents around us were bombed. The scattered body parts — it was an unbearably painful moment that will never be forgotten.
Since that night, my younger brother Ibrahim can only fall asleep trembling in my arms, whispering to me: “Marah, I don’t want to die. Hide me.”
For the sake of Ibrahim’s survival, and for the sake of my family — be by our side. Donate, even a little.
Because even a little can be a lifeline for my family, who are enduring hunger, oppression, and genocide in Gaza.
Paul Waleryszek
| ID | Name | Amount | |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1244 | Listing Agent | [email protected] | |
| 1215 | Listing Agent | [email protected] |
