Help Ibtisam and Mahmoud to survive

I speak to you from the heart of my tent, not knowing if we will survive this death that is drawing closer to us day after day.

 I am Ibtisam, from the Gaza Strip. The occupation forces arrested my husband, leaving me alone to bear the responsibility for my family, which consists of my children: Islam, Aseel, Moatasem, Eileen, and six-month-old Tasneem, who has not seen her father since birth.

Tasneem was born here in the tent instead of the hospital, amidst the sounds of bombs and airstrikes. I took her first breaths with my trembling hands. She came into the world without seeing her father rejoice and hold her in his arms. Nothing touched her face except my tears that never dried from her cheeks. I was unable to even provide her with the clothing she deserved as any innocent child should.

Tasneem continues to wonder.

Will her father know of her existence and identity while he is detained in the occupation prisons? Or will she remain unknown in his mind and heart? How much longer would she live before she saw him and knew him, and he knew her?!

A few days ago, Tasneem began suffering from a strange skin disease that suddenly attacked her body, eating away at her health day after day. I watched her wither away before my eyes, and I had no choice but to pray. I rushed her from one doctor to another, hoping to find a cure to stop this nightmare. But the tragedy was greater than I expected: We discovered that the cause was "the bites of filthy insects living with us in the same tent." The tent, which was supposed to be our safe haven, had turned into a trap that robbed my children of their health and lives.

The disease consumed Tasneem's skin, even affecting her eyes. The medications that might restore her health were now beyond my reach, and with the rising prices, treatment had become a distant dream for us, seen but never touched.

I am a mother who lost her safety and home. I endured killing, hunger, destruction, cold, heat, constant displacement, loss, grief, longing, pain, fear, anxiety, despair, and oppression for more than 650 days here in a cramped tent. Life here in Gaza has become unbearably expensive. Nothing is cheap except death. Everything we need is expensive: food, drink, Tasneem's treatment, painkillers, and her siblings' clothing and cleaning supplies. Everything has become scarce and expensive.

You may not be able to defend us with your own hands, but you can help us, even with a small amount. You are not obligated to help us, but if your conscience and humanity are present, help us out of love, not coercion.