🚨🚨🚨
Hello,
I am Tamer Al-Deeb, a Palestinian dentist from Gaza.
[Picture of Tamer before the war in his clinic]
I have hesitated and delayed for a long time to write these words and create an account on GoFundMe, but the need has become very urgent due to what I see of death approaching myself and my family.
To begin our story, it is important to introduce my family, who are the core of my existence and the source of my strength during these turbulent times:
We are a family of four suffering for over 9 months from a brutal war that spares neither humans nor stones.
Mother: The Heart of Our Home
My mother embodies generosity and kindness as a devoted homemaker, always prioritizing her family's well-being. Her unwavering love remains our sanctuary amidst the chaos.
Father: The Pillar of Strength
My father, Majed, a dedicated professor, faced the destruction of the university he served. Despite this, his commitment to education and society remains unshaken.
Brother: A Beacon of Healing
My brother, Mohammad, a compassionate doctor, confronts the challenges of healthcare amidst dwindling supplies and occupation brutality, showcasing remarkable dedication to healing.
Tamer: A Dream Deferred
As for myself, Tamer, I was on the verge of a new beginning, with aspirations to further my career in Germany. I had saved thousands of dollars for the mandatory block account to support my stay abroad. However, the conflict has not only shattered my professional dreams but also consumed what didn't burn of my savings, compelling me to fight for my family's survival amidst the escalating costs of basic human necessities.
[Picture of the family before the war]
I have lost the lives of my dearest friends, neighbors, and much of what I loved.
We have lost our home with all its dreams and memories. A five-floor house completely leveled to the ground!!
[Pictures of the destroyed house]
I lost my clinic, my only source of livelihood.
[picture of the clinic]
My neighborhood .
[picture of the destroyed neighborhood]
Since the beginning of the war, we were forced to flee our home in the north of the Gaza Strip to the supposed safe area in the south. But unfortunately, this was just the beginning. We have been displaced four times in the same southern area, fleeing from death always surrounding us.
Initially, we fled to a school belonging to the UNRWA in the Nuseirat camp until we were forced to move to another area, and the Maghazi camp was the intended destination. Then a UNRWA school, where we were residing in a tent inside, was targeted, killing 7 civilians. We were forced to flee again to a tent in Rafah, but the scarcity of clean water and the spread of epidemics and diseases forced us to flee again to a UNRWA school in the Deir Al-Balah area until now.
UNRWA has been providing refuge to hundreds of displaced families for the past six months at schools that have become vital community hubs, offering shelter to thousands of individuals trapped in the southern region.
Women and children sleep inside classrooms, and the men sleep outside in tents set up in the courtyard. Rainstorms recently have flooded our tents, and it's very difficult to take care of our basic needs.
[Pictures of Tamer after the war in the UNRWA school and his tent]
I am currently volunteering at Al-Aqsa Hospital, assisting in the maxillofacial surgery department. However, a sense of helplessness and despair often overwhelms me. It's hard to put into words the horrors and injuries I witness daily. Surrounded by the shroud of death and the cries of the wounded, I feel powerless. "I want to save you, I want you to live," I often think, "I will do everything in my power to make it happen!" Sadly, many times, they become part of the countless casualties from my homeland. The shortages in food, water, and medical supplies are dire, to the extent that we sometimes perform surgeries without anesthesia. The suffering is unimaginable.
Now we hope to escape death, we hope for the end of the war, we hope to leave the Gaza Strip, and we hope to live a decent life away from bombing, occupation, and destruction.
It has been 9 months of hell and horror. This genocide has been too long to bear, and our mental health and lives are in constant danger. (I can’t describe enough what I have been dealing with daily in the hospitals for the past days. We have reached a point where there is no hope left for us here in Gaza, where we are unfortunately just waiting for our turn to die, and even if there is a ceasefire, the destruction in Gaza is beyond prompt repair
Evacuation fees are expensive, especially now that I have no source of income. Once we can evacuate, your donations will cover our travel expenses and help us get immediate support in Egypt. There will be meal expenses, wardrobe expenses, emergency expenses, etc., but no generous contribution will go to waste.
To cross the “Rafah” Gaza-Egypt Borders, you need to have your name listed in the Crossing List (paid permit), and coordinators in Egypt who have the power to add my family’s names to the list at the border are now asking for anywhere from $6-8,000 per PERSON! They will not add the names until we can prove we have the money ready.
I ask for your help because this is not just my battle alone, but a battle in which we seek your helping hand to survive and preserve our families. Any donation, big or small, will have a huge impact on the lives of my family and me. I am grateful to everyone who donates, and I will remain grateful forever for giving hope and opportunity to me and my family to survive and build a better future.
Thank you for reading my story. For sharing my story with your friends and family. I hope, there is a ceasefire, and we can get the rest and safety we deserve to build our lives all over again. ❤️
Tamer Al-Deeb
Our campaign is vetted by :
