Short Story
United Kingdom
I’m an NGO worker based in London and I have set up this page to support my friend Wafa to leave Gaza. I met Wafa through a good friend and hearing about her situation has had a huge impact on me. Wafa recently made the very difficult decision to start plans to leave the place she has always called home.
We estimate that the costs will be:
Given the current situation it is very hard to know exact amounts so these are approximate figures and we will share more specific details as we are able to get them.
Now, in her own words…
My name is Wafa. I’m a mother living in Gaza with my husband and our two children — Hamoud, who is 4, and Mira, our baby. We once had a third child — Khaled — but we lost him during the war. There was no shelter, no medicine, only fear. His absence is a wound that never heals. His name is still whispered in the silence of the night.
Today, we live in a tent. There are no walls to protect us — just a thin sheet of fabric between us and the sky. Sometimes I find myself wishing for something as simple as leaning against a wall. Instead, I sit on the ground, holding Mira, with my back against a metal pole wrapped in cloth.
We cook over firewood, the smoke stinging our eyes as we try to make a small meal stretch to feed us all. When it rains, everything floods. When it’s cold, we shiver together under one blanket. At night, I lie awake listening to the sound of drones overhead and wondering if we’ll see the morning. In those moments, I hold Hamoud tighter and whisper to him that everything will be okay — even when I’m not sure myself.
And still, I hold on to one thing: hope.
I’m currently studying Business Administration at university. I study while Mira sleeps on my chest and Hamoud flips through my notebooks. I believe that knowledge is a kind of resistance — a path forward, a light in the dark.
My husband once worked as a decorative painter — designing interiors and adding color to people’s homes. In 2014, during the war, he was injured by shrapnel in his head and hand. Despite the pain, he continued working for years, doing his best to support us. But over time, the nerve damage worsened, and now he can no longer hold his tools for long. He carries the scars of war silently, and I carry the rest: the food, the children, the fear, the future of our family.
Now, we are trying to raise enough money to make passports, so we can leave Gaza and start again — somewhere safe, where my children can have a life beyond war. All I want is to protect Hamoud and Mira from the same fate that took Khaled. I want them to live.
If you can help — by donating, sharing, or simply sending a kind word — it would mean more than I can say.
From one human heart to another —thank you.
Thank you for hearing my voice.
We’ve reached the halfway point!
Thanks to your generous support and sincere participation, we’ve reached the halfway point of our campaign goal.
Every donation has been a step toward safety, and every word of support has been a balm in a difficult time.
I am deeply grateful to everyone who has contributed, participated, and stood with us in word or deed.
This hope you give us means so much to us and gives us the strength to keep going.
We still have the other half to go, but with you, it doesn’t seem impossible.
Please continue sharing the campaign with those around you—may it reach a heart that will open a new door for us.
From the bottom of my heart… Thank you.
We are so thrilled to update that we have met our first milestone of £500 which will allow Wafa to take the first step of applying for passports for herself and her family.
From Wafa:
‘From the bottom of my heart, I thank every person who has supported us, whether with a word, a donation, or a prayer.
You are an integral part of our journey, and your love will forever remain in my heart.
We are now waiting for the border crossing to open. Once it does, we will begin the process of obtaining passports for my family, the first concrete step toward our dream of travel.
Your help brings us closer to this goal than you can imagine. When we begin issuing passports, I will share the photos with you immediately, because this journey would not have begun without you’
Anonymous
4
Wafa’s dream: a safe home and new beginning with her family
-
$3,000.00
Funding Goal -
$0.00
Funds Raised -
0
Days to go -
Campaign Never Ends
Campaign End Method
Campaign Story
United Kingdom
I’m an NGO worker based in London and I have set up this page to support my friend Wafa to leave Gaza. I met Wafa through a good friend and hearing about her situation has had a huge impact on me. Wafa recently made the very difficult decision to start plans to leave the place she has always called home.
We estimate that the costs will be:
Given the current situation it is very hard to know exact amounts so these are approximate figures and we will share more specific details as we are able to get them.
Now, in her own words…
My name is Wafa. I’m a mother living in Gaza with my husband and our two children — Hamoud, who is 4, and Mira, our baby. We once had a third child — Khaled — but we lost him during the war. There was no shelter, no medicine, only fear. His absence is a wound that never heals. His name is still whispered in the silence of the night.
Today, we live in a tent. There are no walls to protect us — just a thin sheet of fabric between us and the sky. Sometimes I find myself wishing for something as simple as leaning against a wall. Instead, I sit on the ground, holding Mira, with my back against a metal pole wrapped in cloth.
We cook over firewood, the smoke stinging our eyes as we try to make a small meal stretch to feed us all. When it rains, everything floods. When it’s cold, we shiver together under one blanket. At night, I lie awake listening to the sound of drones overhead and wondering if we’ll see the morning. In those moments, I hold Hamoud tighter and whisper to him that everything will be okay — even when I’m not sure myself.
And still, I hold on to one thing: hope.
I’m currently studying Business Administration at university. I study while Mira sleeps on my chest and Hamoud flips through my notebooks. I believe that knowledge is a kind of resistance — a path forward, a light in the dark.
My husband once worked as a decorative painter — designing interiors and adding color to people’s homes. In 2014, during the war, he was injured by shrapnel in his head and hand. Despite the pain, he continued working for years, doing his best to support us. But over time, the nerve damage worsened, and now he can no longer hold his tools for long. He carries the scars of war silently, and I carry the rest: the food, the children, the fear, the future of our family.
Now, we are trying to raise enough money to make passports, so we can leave Gaza and start again — somewhere safe, where my children can have a life beyond war. All I want is to protect Hamoud and Mira from the same fate that took Khaled. I want them to live.
If you can help — by donating, sharing, or simply sending a kind word — it would mean more than I can say.
From one human heart to another —thank you.
Thank you for hearing my voice.
We’ve reached the halfway point!
Thanks to your generous support and sincere participation, we’ve reached the halfway point of our campaign goal.
Every donation has been a step toward safety, and every word of support has been a balm in a difficult time.
I am deeply grateful to everyone who has contributed, participated, and stood with us in word or deed.
This hope you give us means so much to us and gives us the strength to keep going.
We still have the other half to go, but with you, it doesn’t seem impossible.
Please continue sharing the campaign with those around you—may it reach a heart that will open a new door for us.
From the bottom of my heart… Thank you.
We are so thrilled to update that we have met our first milestone of £500 which will allow Wafa to take the first step of applying for passports for herself and her family.
From Wafa:
‘From the bottom of my heart, I thank every person who has supported us, whether with a word, a donation, or a prayer.
You are an integral part of our journey, and your love will forever remain in my heart.
We are now waiting for the border crossing to open. Once it does, we will begin the process of obtaining passports for my family, the first concrete step toward our dream of travel.
Your help brings us closer to this goal than you can imagine. When we begin issuing passports, I will share the photos with you immediately, because this journey would not have begun without you’
Anonymous
4