Palestinian Women And Girls Are Actively Being Denied Uterine And Gynecological Care. They Have To Use

You should make zionists uncomfortable btw

Keep talking and bringing up Palestine

Advertise that you and everything about you is pro Palestine

Make sure nobody can even entertain the idea of ignoring Palestine

Are you part of a fandom? Draw pro palestinian fanart (and link resources)

Go to protests and wear pro Palestine pins (if it's safe for you to do so)

Buy and wear a keffiyah

Do not let genocide supporters find safe and comfortable spaces

Do not be a safe space for war criminals

Do not let people take comfort in your assumed neutrality

Do not allow people ignore genocide

- -

Edit: this is getting traction again so I wanna add a few resources to help you turn your anger into change

Daily click:

arab.org

Home – 2020

arab.org aims to empower every person & every organization to do Good.

Free documentary about Gaza's Fight For Freedom:

means.tv

Gaza Fights for Freedom

Gaza Fights for Freedom

I'm only going to link two since that's the limit for most people before they just scroll down and ignore it. Please give the documentary a watch whenever you have time

I am Ola Ferwana from Palestine ,Gaza. I'm a mother of 3 kids Yamen, Qusai and Mira. My husband travelled to Egypt to get medicines before 2 days of the war 7 of October on Gaza.

I faced very great challenges and responsibilities of my three children in the absence of my husband, as he had traveled and the crossing was closed and we could not see each other. The amount of suffering I was feeling cannot be described as still being in the north of Gaza.I am reaching out to you today with a heavy heart and a plea for urgent assistance. I have left my home and have been displaced more than 8 times with my children. I am living in the war_torn region of Gaza, facing unimaginable challenges, with lack of water, food scarcity, and constant threats to their safety.

This is our street of my house, the Israeli occupation damaged all the houses.

I have delivered a girl baby,Mira, through the war, She was 10 months old and my husband didn't see her until this moment.

Yaman was 7 years old, and his simplest dream was to complete the first grade at school, but his school was completely destroyed. He lost the most beautiful thing that he was happy with and enjoyed that he had reached this stage.

Qusai is 5 years old, and until this moment I do not have the courage to tell him that his kindergarten was also destroyed, the first place and refuge in which he was happy, but in this war he lost everything beautiful. He lost his father’s hug, which was his only refuge when he slept at night, telling him his daily story to fall asleep safety.

Mira, my daughter, who had never seen an hour or a moment devoid of fear, came into this world and was surprised by a war that destroyed many, many things. It destroyed her house and her room, which I was waiting for as I prepared and brought her all the beautiful clothes and colorful dresses she needed. She was surprised by the sound of missiles. She could not sleep because of it. My husband hopes to get a smile and a hug from her daughter Which he had been waiting for some time.

We lack of the basic human needs, no food no electricity no water. We were poisoned and infected because of the unhealthy water that we drink.

My three children and I had to be hospitalized. We suffered from liver dysfunction as a result of malnutrition, widespread diseases, and recurring infection.

During this period, I felt remorseful about how difficult it is for a mother to see her children sick and unable to treat them because she is also very sick.

The Rafah border crossing, which is the only way to escape from the war, is closed now.

I hope to provide us by giving support in order to cover the costs associated with ensuring our safe passage of Egypt through the borders. Please stand with me, we are now homeless, with absence of children needs like milk, diapers, with no food. Please help us to stay a live and leave Gaza with my children. Share this link as you can as possible .

https://gofund.me/4e896ac1

If it is opened, I can't go to Egypt as I don't have the money because my husband is the sole breadwinner for my family.

Thank you for your kindness, empathy and generosity during this challenging time.With sincere thanks and warm regards,

@nikoco11 @humanvictim @7amaspayrollmanager

@kaapstadgirly @palestinegenocide @palestinesfinest @bibyebae @annoyinggiantfestivaluniver-blog

@manrota66 @toughknit

@flower-tea-fairies @thetitancurse @vivisectionv

@communistchameleon @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @4ft10tvlandfangirl @awetistic-things-main @gentl3m4n @awetistic-things

@baby-girl-aaron-dessner

@northgazaupdates @northgazaupdates2

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @nabulsi

@kyra45-helping-others @lindigoh-blog

@kyra45 @commissions4aid-international @occupationsurfer @ibtisams @sayruq

@evelyn-art-05 @sar-soor @90-ghost @lady-raziel @helppeople @helppmefindawaytobreathee @manrota66

@communistchilchuck @cipheramnesia

Please donate or share it as much as you can

Every donation make a different for me.

This is the link

https://gofund.me/4e896ac1

Thank you,

Ola

currently at $6,852 / $29, 500 (03/09/24)

LOW FUNDS

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

Save Dr. Farhat's family from genocide in Gaza

👇 "Unveil the truth – Dive into the full story."

gofundme.com

Donate to Save Dr. Farhat's family from genocide in Gaza, organized by Farhat's Family

In the heart of war-torn Gaza, where destruction and loss are a daily … Farhat's Family needs your support for Save Dr. Farhat's family fro

✅ This GoFundMe Verified (248) on this list 🔍 by @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @90-ghost

In the heart of war-torn Gaza, where destruction and loss are a daily reality, lies the deeply moving tale of Dr. Husam Farhat and his family. Amidst the relentless bombardment, Dr. Farhat faced an unthinkable tragedy: the martyrdom of his beloved sisters, Inas and Amal, along with their husbands and children, and his brother Mustafa. This devastating loss shattered not only their dreams but also their hopes for a peaceful future.

Life Before the War: Memories of a Beautiful Home

Before the war, my life revolved around a beautiful home where I lived with my wife, our daughter Sham, and our sons Muhannad and Muhammad. This home was more than just a place to live; it was a sanctuary filled with love, warmth, and the joy of watching my children grow. Every corner of our home echoed with their laughter, turning it into a place where dreams for the future felt not only possible but inevitable, but then the war came, and in an instant, everything changed. The place where we once felt safe and secure was reduced to rubble. The life we had carefully built, the dreams we had nurtured, and the bright future we had planned were all torn apart. The war didn’t just destroy our home; it uprooted our entire existence, leaving us with nothing but the painful memories of what once was, Now, standing in the ruins of our former life, I'm left with fragments of a distant dream. The joy and security we once knew have been replaced by loss and uncertainty as we face a future overshadowed by harsh realities.

The Loss of My Professional Dream and Life After the War

And it wasn’t just my home that was destroyed. My accounting office, one of the most renowned in Palestine, was also reduced to rubble. I had worked tirelessly to build this office, which wasn't just a place of business but a reflection of my passion and dedication to the field of accounting. It was our primary source of income, providing financial stability and security for my family, My office was well-known for its exceptional services and strong reputation among clients. Over the years, it had become a symbol of success and hard work in the accounting world. But the war took it all away in an instant. Everything I had worked so hard to achieve was destroyed, and years of effort and dedication were wiped out in moments, Now, I stand on the ruins of my office, just as I stand on the ruins of my life, trying to piece together the remnants of my dreams and memories. This office was a source of pride for me and my family, but the war has left us with nothing, facing an uncertain and difficult future.

War's Toll on My Dreams and Future

The war didn’t just destroy my home and office; it shattered my dreams and future. As a PhD candidate in Accounting Information Systems at Universiti Utara Malaysia, I was in my final year, pursuing research that is a significant contribution to my field and valuable to entrepreneurs. With a master’s degree with distinction and a bachelor's degree, I also taught at several universities, sharing my knowledge and passion, But the war disrupted everything. Years of hard work, academic progress, and my contributions to the field have been torn apart, leaving me with an uncertain future. Now, I am faced with the daunting task of not only rebuilding my life but also reviving the dreams and ambitions that once drove me. The journey ahead is filled with challenges, but my resolve to continue remains strong.

Displacement and Uncertainty After the War

Now, after all this devastation, my family and I are living as displaced people, homeless and jobless, with no clear future for ourselves or our children. Every day is a struggle to find food for my children, who have been robbed of every chance at a normal life by this war. Once, we lived in Shuja'iyya, in North Gaza, where we had a home, a life, and dreams. But now, after being displaced over nine times, we find ourselves in the refugee camps of Nuseirat, the war has stripped us of everything—our home, our security, and our future. Our daily life has become a constant search for basic necessities, a far cry from the life we once knew. The dreams I had for my children and myself now feel like distant memories, overshadowed by the relentless challenges of survival. Each day brings new uncertainties, as we navigate this harsh new reality, clinging to the hope that one day we might rebuild what was lost.

Rebuild Hope: A Call to Stand with Us

We urgently call on all those who stand in solidarity with us, and every supporter, to help save what remains of our lives. Your assistance, even in small ways, can make a significant difference in helping us rebuild and restore our shattered world, rebuilding feels like an insurmountable task, but with your help, we can begin to piece together what was lost. Your contributions, no matter how small, can provide the foundation we need to start anew, offering hope and a chance at a better future for our family. Your solidarity means the world to us as we navigate these challenging times.

👉 https://gofund.me/e9f9ce20

Thank you for your compassion, your time, and your commitment to freedom and justice.

With deepest gratitude,

Dr. Farhat's Family

My name is Tala Nassar, a 17-year-old from Gaza.

My mother is in a critical medical emergency. She was previously diagnosed with breast cancer in her left breast. Her condition is indescribably severe, and her prognosis worsens by the day. This has been exacerbated by the recent bombings and ground invasion of our neighborhood in Nuseirat. Her condition has deteriorated further due to the toxic gases from the bombs dropped just meters from our home and even the smoke from cooking on an open fire, as gas is unavailable.

Since the start of the aggression on Gaza, she has not received any treatment. The only cancer hospital in Gaza was completely destroyed long ago. Her compromised immune system and diabetes only make matters worse, as finding any medication right now is impossible. We are incredibly fearful of the possibility of metastasis or something even worse.

Please help us. We desperately need medical assistance for my mother, and we are running out of time. Your support can make a difference in saving her life.

gofundme.com

Donate to No time to save a cancer patient mother and her children, organized by Ahmed Shaqqoura

Hello, I'm Ahmed Shaqqoura,I live in France and I'll te… Ahmed Shaqqoura needs your support for No time to save a cancer patient mothe

Not guilty!

Oh my gosh

This is pure evil. They say 12 employees participated in Oct 7th so they have to stop feeding the entire population????

United States Department of State

Statement on UNRWA Allegations - United States Department of State

The United States is extremely troubled by the allegations that twelve UNRWA employees may have been involved in the October 7 Hamas terrori

currently at €595 / €50, 000 (30/08/24)

EXTREMELY LOW FUNDS

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

vetted here (line 314)

‏Today's vetted fundraisers

I am Nevin Al-Sir, I live in Gaza, I am 27 years old, I used to work as an accountant in an accounting firm, I am married and have a child, I was also pregnant during the war, the war on Gaza, and when the evacuation order came from our area in Gaza, we fled through the corridor that the occupation lied to us about and the safe corridor was a disaster. We walked on foot, the longest distance I have ever walked in my life. I was displaced to a tent with the rest of my family, and it was very difficult, tiring and exhausting. Every time there was an evacuation in the southern areas, I was forced to evacuate again to a worse tent. Then I gave birth to my child in a field hospital because the hospitals were out of service. I gave birth to my son in the winter, the cold and the war together, which did not destroy my house and my tent. Now we live in a tent, me, my mother, my father, my husband, my brothers, my sisters and their children, and I need your support to try to survive.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Nevin alserr family escape the war, organized by Niven Alser

I am Nevin Al-Sir living in Gaza trying to help myself, my family and my child … Niven Alser needs your support for Help Nevin alserr fam

@el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @sar-soor @stuckinapril

currently at $9, 298 / $50, 000 (11/09/24)

EXTREMELY LOW FUNDS

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

Please stop and listen to our painful story and help me save my family

Help me get my father and mother out and secure their lives

“The tent was their only shelter. Its winter wall was made of threadbare fabric that did not protect them from the cold or the summer heat. Inside, they lay on a thin mattress, two beaten corpses. My father and mother still suffered from diabetes and high blood pressure. They woke up every day to The sound of chronic pain and dreams that relax with every breath.

gofundme.com

Donate to Please Save What's Left of My Family, organized by Marleen Tipu

Hello my dears, I hope you are well. Please help me. I, Mahmoud Baalou, have gon… Marleen Tipu needs your support for Please Save What's

@straycati @thunderstruck9 @haflacky

@catasters @90-ghost @northgazaupdates

@northwezt @northernsiberiawinds

@palestine-button-reminder @palestinegenocide

@galacticpoop @trickstarbrave @ash-angelic

@palestinegenocide @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

@punkitt-is-here @thesblu

@magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota

@gay-yosuke @foolish-edworm @floof-ghostie @nativehueofresolution

@apollodalizard @popo-salad @olovelymoon

@fallenangellostfeathers @fallahifag

@andypasta @freewatermelon0

@fingernailathome @freepalestine-xo-blog

@freeplaidknightkid @freepalestine-xo-blog

@amosnaomi @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether

@amazingphil @zain-leen1993 @zain-gaza

@zombzgutzz @everythingfox @catcrumb

@catherinebronte @90-ghost @amosnaomi

@amanita-rubescens @quadruple-agent

@catasters @nabulsi @fairfieldfarmer @sar-soor

@el-shab-hussein @palestinegenocide

@northgazaupdates @ibtisams-deactivated20240709

@commissions4aid-international @communistchameleon @fallahifag @ripe

@rainbowgazes-archive @cottoncandiescupcakes @soulmvtes

@ms-mxyzptlk @thenewgothictwice

@thishartominefeelz

Anger

I had a breakdown again earlier today.

Like something hot and red and ugly and just so much hatred with no target to shoot it on. For some reason I thought is this how Jason Todd had felt? Or maybe is this how Bruce Wayne felt once he grew up and realized how on earth does people like Joe Chill can get away with so little and he in that one night, lost everything he knew?

With so much hatred and anger and just this huge hole in your heart that felt more like it was ripped away from you rather than just being taken? Is this how being angry at the world feels like? Angry at everything that has happened? Is this how craving for vengeance feels like?

I remember being told that revenge has a smell and it is sweet, and almost dizzying like an aphrodisiac.

I remember clutching the front of my shirt and felt how stuck my scream felt in my throat and I can’t just scream it out with my brother across the hallway and my sister downstairs.

I can’t do this, I can’t keep this in, I can’t keep on doing this.

I remember a time we were told that the whole family has anger issues.

Dad is a bomb, ticking and ticking with the time always border lining on 0 every time he tries to pushes us too far to the edge and he seems eager for us to push him back in retaliation.

Mom keeps it in until something bad & ugly & stupid & disrespectful happens from us, and there comes the screams and the glares and the disappointment.

My brother’s anger is physical, he hits you and pulls in some punches just to make you hurt the same way he does.

My sister’s anger is physical as well, but in the way it’s childish because still, she is still a child.

More often than not, her anger pushes dad’s clock to 0 as well and that will sometimes reign in Mom’s disappointment and if it isn’t her pushing it to explode, it will be my brother’s idea of rebellious retaliation.

And I’ll stand there.

Just a soldier, standing still in the minefield as the shots keep flying and the bombs kept giving way.

Silence become my defense as it was never really my weapon.

And growing up with the understanding how much power and destruction a bomb can hold, well I know how dangerous a wrath’s path can be.

So, I reign it in. So, I push every single pure, pure anger that threatens to boil to the surface.

My grief sometimes overcome my anger I think, enough so that I forgot that I can be angry sometimes.

My anger, I think, is physical as well.

My anger, I think, is the opposite of who I fights to become.

My anger, I think, is not a bomb, or a silent glare or a bursting scream.

My anger creeps in, my knuckles throb with every poison that rushes through my vein.

I don’t get angry, I don’t, I won’t, I never.

I don’t get angry because if I do, I don’t know how I’ll face the aftermath of it.

I can feel it, when it pulses, when it tries to fight through the restraints. I can feel it when my veins are filled with adrenaline and the want, the need to just, hurt. I can feel it and I know it’s there ‘because I can feel my eyes harden, I can feel my legs muscle constrict with the will to run towards the anger itself, I can feel my grip tightens around on itself ‘because I want to hit and punch and injure and hurt, hurt, hurt.

And I buries it in.

I learn to let out the insults because it soothes the fire but if you’ve been trapping the flames in an oxygen cavity and keep adding to it without ever giving it a chance to see the light of day, a verbal fight does little to calm it.

I learn that after letting out the insults, to give it time, time to turn it into guilt and grief instead.

Dr K thinks that what I’m doing might as well be the equivalent of driving a brake-less car down the hill only to run into an explosion then crashes down into the ocean with nowhere to escape out of the car.

Like letting in the adrenaline rushes through you only to trap everything in and let it consumes you.

I’ve told her that the analogy was exaggerative, I think.

I’ve crashed at the moment now.

I think it’s ironic that I used the rain and the sound of the crashing waves to calm me down.

I hate being angry.

I hate it because it isn’t me but it proves that it’s a primal instinct of mine when I didn’t bother with my mask.

All of us have masks.

I’ve seen Dad used it around his colleagues or when the topic of Grandpa comes up or when Grandma was talking about her time just around the corner.

I’ve seen Mom used it around her ‘friends’, true or not, and I’ve seen it around us when she’s far too tired and she’s far too aware of her greying hair.

I’ve seen my brother using it the most around us, never being able to settle into his skin even with those who he should trust the most.

I’ve seen it with my sister, the way she brushes off any signs of emotional vulnerability other than irritation ‘because she thought everybody would use it as a weapon against her intelligence.

I’ve seen it in the mirror of the 5-star bathroom at school, the one everybody goes to because it’s the only ones that works. Most of the time, anyways.

I’ve seen it on my friends and I’ve seen it crumbles in the anticipation of days leading up to what was the most important event of our lives as high school students back then.

Someone asked me, if I’ve cried it yet, implying if I’ve succumbed to the world-heavy pressure of the future yet. If I’ve sat down and bawled my eyes out as I realized how short on time we always seemed.

I told them, no.

There are a few strays of tears I’ve let past in the days leading up to it but I know if I sat down properly and let it out – I don’t know how much it’ll take for me to stand up again. Or if I’m ever strong enough for it anyways.

I hate grief.

And I hate my anger even more.

And as my vision blurs with the tears in my eyes that I won’t let out, and my knuckles are white as I grip the box holding in the razors tightly – I wish, I wish I never knew how safe and suffocating a mask can feel.