"They also forbade us from dreaming"
Haya and her children are displaced in Al-Mawasi
My name is Haya. I am 32 years old and a mother of three. I am one of thousands who have been displaced again and again, driven from our homes by the war. We have lost everything—our home, our livelihood, and the sense of stability we once knew. Now, we live in tents in a displacement camp, stripped of even the most basic necessities of life.
Before the war, we lived in Khan Younis. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was stable. We had food, water, and a roof over our heads. We had income, peace of mind, and the simple comfort of knowing our children were safe. But everything changed. The war uprooted us from our home in the heart of Khan Younis and forced us to flee to Al-Mawasi, seeking any place that could shelter our children from the bombs. That was about a year ago. During the ceasefire, we returned to the site of our home. We returned to it knowing that it was destroyed (all the houses in our area were) but we hoped to find a piece of it intact, to repair it from scratch, or at least find something to remember it by. But they didn't let us live on our past memories. They also forbade us from dreaming.
We have since returned to the displacement area of Al-Mawasi.
Today, our lives are reduced to survival. We wait in long lines just to use the bathroom. Privacy is gone. Food and clean water are scarce, especially since the crossings were closed. We don’t get anything for free, and the necessities were purchase have become very expensive. The heat is unbearable inside the tents, and there is no escape from it. My children cry constantly—from hunger, from exhaustion, from fear. I often have no answers for them. As a mother, it is the most helpless feeling in the world.
The nights are the hardest. I lie awake listening to the sounds of other children crying in nearby tents, knowing that their mothers, like me, are silently breaking. We are not just statistics. We are families, human beings, trying to live, to protect our children, and to hold on to whatever is left of our dignity.
To the world: we are pleading for your humanity. This war must end. No more bombs. No more displacement. No more children growing up knowing only fear and hunger. Look at us not as numbers, but as people—mothers, fathers, and children—who deserve to live in peace. Please, stop the war. Let us live.
You can donate to support Haya and her family via GoFundMe
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