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“A Story from Under the Rubble… The Cry of a Broken Father from Gaza”

My name is Muhammad Nahidh Mahmoud Al-Masri, I am 30 years old. I am not just a number in war reports or an image among the ruins… I am a father, a husband, and a human being struggling to survive in a place the world seems to have forgotten—Gaza, exhausted by war and eaten away by the blockade.

It has been two years since the last war destroyed everything around me: my home, my dreams, and my dignity. I walk among the rubble, not in search of hope, but for a piece of bread to quiet the hunger of my children… two little ones who know nothing of politics, who cannot understand the meaning of sanctions or blockade; all they know is the pain of their hungry stomachs and that they haven’t tasted milk in months.

I am a person with disabilities. I suffer from a mobility impairment in my left leg, making every step a torment. Yet I walk for hours, sometimes crawl, just to return with something to feed my family. No work, no income, no medicine, no food, not even diapers to protect my children from wetness and cold.

Can you imagine seeing your children cry from hunger in front of you while you have nothing to give them? Have you ever tried to hide your tears, break yourself just to appear strong before them, while inside you feel weaker than the pain you carry? I live this every day. I sometimes feel like a mere shadow, slowly eroding from within—but I still resist, only for their sake.

I do not ask for much… just to be seen, to have my voice heard. I appeal to your humanity. Consider me your brother who has fallen and found no hand to hold. Help me feed my children, buy them milk, diapers, and a bit of hope.

Gaza is bleeding, and I call to you from its heart… from under the rubble, from amid the pain and ashes, the cry of a broken father, waiting for someone to answer.