Hello, I’m Hani, 26 years old, from Gaza. Life wasn’t easy even before the war. I studied social work, but due to the lack of job opportunities, I was forced to work as a taxi driver. But in October last year, everything changed in unimaginable ways. The war on Gaza began, and my life, as well as my family’s, turned into a never-ending nightmare.
We lived in an area close to the border, and when the shells started raining down on us from the very first hour, we had no choice but to leave. We heard the sounds of bombings destroying the homes and streets around us, and we witnessed how our city turned to ruins in just a few hours. Massacres were happening right before our eyes; children, women, and the elderly fell as helpless victims. Everything we loved disappeared — our home, our neighborhood, and our neighbors.
At first, we tried to hold on. We stayed for two months in northern Gaza despite the destruction all around us. But when the bombing intensified and targeted every surrounding area, we had to make the hardest decision: to flee south. The journey was not easy. Everywhere, the destruction was immense, roads were cut off, and there was no means of transportation. Every moving vehicle was directly targeted, and we were terrified of every sound.
Still, we had to move forward. I gathered my family: my father Yasser (55 years old) and my mother Manal (50 years old), who suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure, my sister Safaa (23 years old), my brother Ibrahim (15 years old), and my younger siblings Nasser (7 years old), Bara’a (5 years old), and Adam (3 years old). We began walking on foot, covering over 15 kilometers, while I carried Adam on my back at times. We could hear the planes overhead and see the devastation around us.
With every step, we approached the checkpoints controlled by Israeli soldiers. The sight of armed soldiers inspecting everyone heightened our fear. The children cried, and every day Nasser would ask me, "When will we go back home?" I had no answer. Each time I looked into his eyes, my heart would break, knowing that he was searching for hope amidst the sorrow.
After hours of waiting and fear at the checkpoints, we finally entered the south. But our suffering didn’t end there. We were taken to Deir al-Balah, to a school overcrowded with displaced people. The classrooms were extremely packed, with each room hosting at least five families. We couldn’t find a place inside, so we had to sleep beside the school’s wall, living in a makeshift tent made of cloth and wood provided by some people. I watched the children as they tried to sleep and felt powerless to provide them with safety.
Another month passed, and we were asked to leave that area and move to Rafah. We lived in a small tent for four months among thousands of displaced people in the Al-Zawaida area. But during the last month, heavy rains flooded our tent, making it impossible to stay there. We were forced to relocate to a school that was still under construction. We have now been living in this school for five months, sharing a single classroom with five other families, struggling to survive and stay alive.
Our emotions are a mix of fear and pain, but every time I see my family standing strong together, I feel that there is still hope in our hearts. This journey was not only physical but emotional as well. Every day, we live with the hope of returning to our home, which now only exists in our memories.
In the midst of this suffering, getting food and water has become a daily challenge. We live in harsh conditions where food aid arrives in limited quantities and is not enough to meet the needs of my large family. Sometimes, we are forced to wait in long lines just to get a small amount of food, while the children endure hunger and anxiety.
As for water, the situation is even worse. We struggle to obtain clean drinking water, which puts us at risk of illness. The health conditions around us continue to worsen, with many diseases spreading due to the lack of cleanliness and overcrowding. I see my brother Adam (3 years old) suffering from a persistent cough, and my heart breaks knowing I can’t do anything to help him.
These conditions surround us from every angle, making life more difficult, but we continue to endure, hoping to return to our normal lives.
My campaign is legitimate and documented, and I’m here to ask for your help. Please support us in this journey by sharing my story or providing assistance to my family. We need help now more than ever, as every step of support is a step towards hope and survival.
I mean, he's not wrong...
The situation is getting more serious, please help. My children wish for a happy life, nothing more. They want to play like the .children of the world
bingewatching will never come close to bingereading. there is nothing like blocking out the entire Earth for ten hours to read a book in one sitting no food no water no shower no bra and emerging at the end with no idea what time it is or where you are, a dried-up prune that's sensitive to light and loud noises because you've been in your room in the dark reading by the glow of a single LED. it's like coming back after a three-month vacation in another dimension and now you have to go downstairs and make dinner. absolutely transcendental
stole from twitter
The LGBTQ community has seen controversy regarding acceptance of different groups (bisexual and transgender individuals have sometimes been marginalized by the larger community), but the term LGBT has been a positive symbol of inclusion and reflects the embrace of different identities and that we’re stronger together and need each other. While there are differences, we all face many of the same challenges from broader society.
In the 1960′s, in wider society the meaning of the word gay transitioned from ‘happy’ or ‘carefree’ to predominantly mean ‘homosexual’ and was an umbrella term that meant anyone who wasn’t cisgender or heterosexual. The community embraced the word ‘gay’ as a mark of pride.
The modern fight for queer rights is considered to have begun with The Stonewall Riots in 1969 and was called the Gay Liberation Movement and the Gay Rights Movement.
The acronym GLB surfaced around this time to also include Lesbian and Bisexual people who felt “gay” wasn’t inclusive of their identities.
Early in the gay rights movement, gay men were largely the ones running the show and there was a focus on men’s issues. Lesbians were unhappy that gay men dominated the leadership and ignored their needs and the feminist fight. As a result, lesbians tended to focus their attention on the Women’s Rights Movement which was happening at the same time. This dominance by gay men was seen as yet one more example of patriarchy and sexism.
In the 1970′s, sexism and homophobia existed in more virulent forms and those biases against lesbians also made it hard for them to find their voices within women’s liberation movements. Betty Friedman, the founder of the National Organization for Women (NOW), commented that lesbians were a “lavender menace” that threatened the political efficacy of the organization and of feminism and many women felt including lesbians was a detriment.
In the 80s and 90s, a huge portion of gay men were suffering from AIDS while the lesbian community was largely unaffected. Lesbians helped gay men with medical care and were a massive part of the activism surrounding the gay community and AIDS. This willingness to support gay men in their time of need sparked a closer, more supportive relationship between both groups, and the gay community became more receptive to feminist ideals and goals.
Approaching the 1990′s it was clear that GLB referred to sexual identity and wasn’t inclusive of gender identity and T should be added, especially since trans activist have long been at the forefront of the community’s fight for rights and acceptance, from Stonewall onward. Some argued that T should not be added, but many gay, lesbian and bisexual people pointed out that they also transgress established gender norms and therefore the GLB acronym should include gender identities and they pushed to include T in the acronym.
GLBT became LGBT as a way to honor the tremendous work the lesbian community did during the AIDS crisis.
Towards the end of the 1990s and into the 2000s, movements took place to add additional letters to the acronym to recognize Intersex, Asexual, Aromantic, Agender, and others. As the acronym grew to LGBTIQ, LGBTQIA, LGBTQIAA, many complained this was becoming unwieldy and started using a ‘+’ to show LGBT aren’t the only identities in the community and this became more common, whether as LGBT+ or LGBTQ+.
In the 2010′s, the process of reclaiming the word “queer” that began in the 1980′s was largely accomplished. In the 2020′s the LGBTQ+ acronym is used less often as Queer is becoming the more common term to represent the community.
Hello friends, first we appreciate your support for lgbtiqa refugees in Kenya. This is to keep you posted about how life is increasingly hard for queer people in Kenya( Kakuma camp)
We got attacked yesterday and three of our friends got injured on the head and others got minor injuries. We are seeking financial support so that our friends can get proper treatment. In the picture is a lesbian whose head was beaten with a stone and we need to help her urgently. We need to take her to an x-ray scan and findout whether she is ok.
The hospital requires us to pay $250 and so we please need you to help witj any amount you can. We slwo have other frienfs that got attavked but not as bad as this.
See gofundme below
See picture below