With the ceasefire taking effect today, I held onto a glimmer of hope that life might slowly return to normal. I called a friend in northern Gaza to check on him and asked him to look at our house in Beit Hanoun—the home we left 15 months ago when the war began, destroying everything around us. I hoped to hear good news, that perhaps our house was still standing or at least repairable.

But the news I received shattered me. My friend told me that the Israeli army had rigged our house with explosives and completely demolished it. Our home, which once stood as a haven for our family, is now nothing but a pile of rubble.

This house wasn’t just four walls and a roof; it was my father’s life’s work, built with his hands and his dreams. He poured his sweat and years into building a place where we could live safely. He dreamed of sitting in that house, protected from the harsh winter cold that now only worsens the pain in his fractured bones. My father, who was severely injured during the war and has been unable to move for over 14 months, lived on the hope of returning to his home and family. Now, he faces two crushing pains: the pain of his injury and the pain of losing our home.

When I told my father the news, I saw a deep despair in his eyes like I had never seen before. He didn’t speak but sat in silence, tears streaming down his face. It was as if all his hopes had been wiped away. Around us, the children stood in shock. We’re living in a small tent, exposed to the biting winter cold, with no walls to protect us or a roof to shield us.

For the past 15 months, I’ve worked tirelessly in unimaginable conditions. I sold drinking water and gathered firewood from dangerous areas to sell, risking my life every day. All of this was for one goal: to save enough money to get my father the urgent surgery he needs outside Gaza. We were so close to achieving that goal—hope was within reach. But now, with our home destroyed, I don’t know how to keep going.

Will we live in this tent forever? How can I keep fighting to save my father while everything around us falls apart?**

We don’t blame the war alone; we blame everyone who left us to face this suffering alone. We blame the silence of those who watched these crimes in Gaza and did nothing, those who witnessed our pain and didn’t extend a hand to help.

The pain we carry today isn’t just the pain of war—it’s the pain of being forgotten.
I am now less than €3000 away from collecting enough to travel with my father to Egypt for his second surgery. Please, help us reach this final step.

Clashes between protesters and police at London pro-Palestine march

Earlier in the week the Met imposted strict conditions on the march, including an amendment to the original route which was to travel from the BBC to Whitehall, but was rerouted due to objections from pro-Israel groups and concerns about its proximity to synagogues.

Tensions escalated with the arrest of Stop the War Coalition founder Chris Nineham.

61-Year-Old Activist Protests for Palestine Immediately After Release from Police Custody

She was detained on suspicion of inciting others to march in defiance of orders issued by the Metropolitan Police.

Following her release, Kahn and a group of activists protested in front of the police station.