OUR STORY
Before the war.
My name is Walaa Abusamra, and I am 24 years old, living in the Gaza Strip with my family of ten. For as long as I can remember, this place was home—filled with hopes, dreams, and aspirations. But now, since the war began, our lives have lost all color. We survive through miracles, each day a new battle to stay alive. Let me share the st
My name is Walaa Abusamra, and I am 24 years old, living in the Gaza Strip with my family of ten. For as long as I can remember, this place was home—filled with hopes, dreams, and aspirations. But now, since the war began, our lives have lost all color. We survive through miracles, each day a new battle to stay alive. Let me share the story of my family and me.
I recently graduated as a doctor from Al-Quds University, Al-Azhar branch, after six years of intense studies. Just two months before the war, I completed my studies, ready to start my internship year with passion and ambition, eager to learn and grow in my field. However, the war had a different plan. The bombings destroyed many hospitals, leaving me with no opportunity to continue my internship or pursue further knowledge. Now, all I can dream of is finishing my studies abroad, far from the ruins of the place I once called home.
In addition to being a doctor, I am also a creative visual artist. I poured my heart into a project I had been working on for months. It was meant to open on October 10th. The preparation, the time, the energy—everything was invested in making this project unique to Gaza. But the occupation destroyed it, reducing everything to rubble. I lost over $4,000, but the true loss is beyond words—the destruction of months of work, the passion and love I had invested in every piece. My project, my dreams, my hopes—all vanished in the blink of an eye.
I have a twin brother, Omar, who, like me, is a doctor. He too wanted to complete his internship year. Our younger siblings, Anas (21) and Manal (19), are studying medicine as well, hoping to complete their degrees abroad after their university was bombed, destroying all their academic progress. What was once a future full of possibilities has now been reduced to dreams of escaping.
The impact on my father has been immense. He lost projects worth around $80,000—projects that were his life’s work. Our beautiful home, the place where we built memories, was also destroyed. Nothing remains of it.
Then there is my little sister, Sama, who is just 13. She was supposed to grow up surrounded by love, go to school, have fun with her friends, ride horses, and build beautiful memories. But now, all that is gone. She, like all of us, carries the weight of a shattered childhood.
Through all of this, one truth remains: the world watches, but no one seems to care. We are left to fight for survival, a struggle no one should endure.
Our future here no longer exists. We have been displaced multiple times since October, moving from place to place, desperately trying to stay one step ahead of death. All we want now is to escape this nightmare. Our dream is simple: to live in peace, far from the destruction that has consumed Gaza.
But escaping is not easy. It is expensive, and we have lost everything we once had. The cost to evacuate each of us at the Rafah border is $5,000, and with ten members in my family, the total becomes overwhelming. In addition, we will need funds for accommodation, visas, food, and travel to a safe place.
Please, we ask for your help. Any support you can offer will bring us one step closer to safety. We are not just asking for ourselves, but for every person in Gaza who is living through this nightmare.
We are grateful for any assistance, no matter how small, to help us escape the destruction and rebuild our lives.
