A Forgotten War, A Lingering Struggle

It’s hard to remember what life was like before—the days when opening a refrigerator door was a mundane, thoughtless act rather than a distant memory. Before the war in Gaza, before the ceasefire that promised relief but never truly came, before survival became a daily battle against hunger, thirst, and exhaustion.

Now, two months after the ceasefire, the borders remain closed. The skies, once filled with the hum of international aid planes, are silent. And life? Life is frozen in time, suspended in an unrelenting struggle for basic necessities.

The Daily Fight for Water and Food

Each morning begins the same way—standing in line for water. The sun rises over Gaza, casting a pale, sickly glow over makeshift water stations. The air is thick, not just with the dust of destruction, but with the quiet desperation of thousands waiting, praying that the water won’t run out before their turn.

When my arms finally bear the weight of a full gallon, I carry it home with slow, deliberate steps. There is no room for haste; every drop is precious. Inside, the silence is deafening. The refrigerator that once stored fresh food and small luxuries is now an empty box—a relic of a life that no longer exists. The last time I opened it was October 2023.

Without electricity, there is no way to store food. Without food, survival depends on scraps—whatever can be scavenged or bartered in hushed exchanges. The markets are nearly empty, shelves long bare, and even the simplest meal has become a rare luxury. Night after night, I go to sleep hungry, the darkness swallowing everything.

A City Scarred, A World That Moved On

The streets outside are quieter now, though they still bear the scars of war—empty buildings, shattered roads, destroyed homes. Every crack in the pavement, every missing wall tells a story of loss.

I try to get a weak internet signal by standing on the roof, angling my phone just right. Messages from friends outside Gaza trickle in, their words like whispers from another world. They tell me life is moving on, that the world is returning to normal. But here, normal is a word without meaning. Here, time is measured not in hours, but in moments of survival.

A Light in the Darkness: Gaza’s Great Minds Foundation

Yet, amidst the suffering, there is one thing that keeps me going: Gaza’s Great Minds Foundation. This project has become my lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkest times. The schools we have built, the children we have educated, the minds we have nurtured—they remind me why survival matters.

I think back to the first school we opened. The dusty walls, the eager faces of children stepping inside as if entering a new world. Each school we built was not just a place of learning but a declaration: We are still here. We will not be forgotten.

When the weight of this world feels unbearable, I think of those students. I think of the spark in their eyes, the hunger to learn despite everything. That thought alone fuels me—to endure the long water lines, to survive the blackouts, to keep going.

The Fight Continues: Gaza’s Resilience Lives On

Gaza’s Great Minds Foundation stands as proof that even in the darkest times, we can create light. Every school we build, every lesson we teach, every child who dares to dream is a victory against despair.

As long as these schools remain, as long as these children learn, my hope will endure. We are more than a war zone. We are more than headlines. We are resilient, determined, and unbreakable. And as long as we fight for a future, this is not the end.

How You Can Help

The struggle in Gaza is far from over. If you want to make a difference, support Gaza’s Great Minds Foundation. Every donation, every shared story, and every act of awareness brings us one step closer to a future where survival is not a daily battle, but a guarantee.