I never thought I’d have to write something like this…

But here I am, writing with the only thing I still have — my words — to protect what’s left of my life.

My name is Jumana, and I’m from Gaza.

Many people hear about the war, but few truly know what life looks like after it ends.

My family has lost almost everything.

My brother was severely injured in his legs and urgently needs bone reconstruction surgery.

But war doesn’t just destroy bodies — it destroys access to treatment, food, and basic survival.

Now, my brother also suffers from diabetes.

His pain grows daily, and we can barely provide him with medication or food.

We live on one meal a day — and sometimes, not even that.

We’re renting a tiny home to shelter ourselves from the bombing, but even that is now at risk.

I’m not writing this to seek pity,

I’m writing it because we are at the edge of survival.

We just want to live.

We need food, medicine, shelter.

We want to be human — not numbers in the news.

If my words reach you,

I ask for one small thing:

Talk about us.

Share our story.

Pray for us… or help us…

Or simply remember: there are still people in Gaza trying to live.

With love,

Jumana