I never imagined that we would face a genocide and war of such destruction and hell, to the point of being displaced from our destroyed home. We never felt that one day we would lose everything we own in the blink of an eye: our home, our possessions, our work, our source of livelihood, our relatives, and our close friends. Our vision of the future is lost in our hands.
Dear friends and strangers, I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits.
I'm Majd Mohammad Amin Abu Ghaben, an intern dentist, fresh graduate, the 4th graduate among 6 doctors brothers, citizen of occupied Palestine, currently residing in the Gaza Strip. I am contacting you today after nearly more than 210 days of war and hell in Gaza and displacement more than 7 times from one place to another with a request for help. A call for survival, and a call for a future for me and my extended family.
Eleven years ago, when I was young, my father died.During these years, life was so difficult for my mother that she was the sole babysitter and caregiver for 11 orphan children.You endured great suffering and great sacrifices to give us a good life and build a home for us.
I was creating my own environment to enjoy life and work; I can manage my time properly and make the most of every minute of every day. I carefully planned every step I took after graduation. I worked hard to become a distinguished dentist.
Unfortunately, everything suddenly changed on October 7th. We have woken up to a genocidal war. My family and I, the people of northern Gaza, lived through very difficult days and events. We could not sleep at night due to the intense anxiety and terrifying sounds, especially when a neighboring house was bombed and the windows of our house fell on us while we were sitting to eat lunch. We had to flee from our home in northern Gaza to southern Gaza before it was bombed and burned to the ground. We crossed the checkpoint erected by the occupation in search of safety. It was an unforgettable day due to extreme fatigue and standing that lasted for 5 hours. It's hard to describe the feeling of sadness you get when you leave the house.Where you grew up since your childhood and you had nothing to carry with you except a very small bag of clothes, which you left with everything in it from the largest to the smallest, and you carried with you nothing but your dearest memories.
My family's life took a devastating turn when we had to leave our home in northern Gaza. We have been displaced more than seven times now, and in the end, we had no choice but to take refuge in a tent, where life is very difficult.There is no electricity available, no communications, water is scarce, we find it difficult to find and it is unclean, there is no healthy food, there is not enough bedding to sleep on, and there are not enough clothes to protect against the extreme cold of the night, so in the winter we often get the flu due to the severity of the cold and the lack of clothes, but now the tent does not protect us from the intense heat during the day and the spread of insects and diseases. Unfortunately, this tent does not protect us from anything, not even from rain or wind, but in the end, it was a shelter.Trying to keep our spirits up, my mom tells us this is an “adventure that teaches us a lot,” which makes me sad.
One day, we woke up to the news that our house had been bombed and burned.My childhood home, dreams, and beautiful memories—we truly lost everything: our dear possessions, our clothes, my own room, my dear study desk, all the memories of my dental work and the talents I created during my school years, and all the necessary dental tools that I owned, and I will use it to complete my dental internship year.
My five doctor brothers and I are now volunteering in a hospital as doctors in the emergency department, ophthalmology, orthopedics, and maxillofacial surgery, and we are doing our best to help the injured and save people’s lives. We have continued to work until now despite the intensity of the bombing and the poor psychological and mental health caused by the war.
We could not imagine the extent of the devastation that occurred in Gaza, where our university was bombed. I and my two brothers, medical students, Abd ElKarim in the third year now, and Abdullah in the first year, lost their academic year, and their dreams are stuck until now.All the health centers where the internship year training was supposed to take place were bombed, but everything was gone in the blink of an eye.
My mother has hypertension; because of the conditions of the war, we hardly provide her treatment, which is less present in Gaza. I have a sister who suffers from pseudohypoparathyroidism, as she was subjected to spasm three times in a row due to her lack of treatment.
We have reached a point where there is no longer any hope for us here in Gaza.The destruction in Gaza cannot be repaired quickly.Therefore, we have resorted to evacuating Gaza in search of safety, treatment, and to complete our studies and start our lives again.
To cross the “Rafah” border between Gaza and Egypt, you need to put your name on the crossing list (paid permit), and coordinators in Egypt who have the ability to add my family names to the list at the border are now asking for $5,000–$8,000 per person!They will not add names until we can prove that we have the funds ready.
Time is of the essence, as their current situation is dire.Every donation, no matter the size, will contribute to our journey to safety.
Share our story, amplify our plea, and stand with us as we navigate through the darkest days of our lives. Thank you for being a beacon of hope in our darkest hour.
With all respect🙏🏼❤️.
