My name is Maysaa Shabeer. I met my husband when I was 20 years old. His mother came to my house and proposed to me. He is a kind, nice man who worked in a mobile phone store. I agreed and married him. But after a year of marriage, due to the difficult circumstances in Gaza and the interruption of employees’ salaries, my husband was no longer able to pay the rent of the mobile phone store and was unable to bring in merchandise, so he closed it. My husband began to work simple jobs like filling water, but he was getting a small amount of money—about a hundred dollars. From then on, life began to become more difficult for us.
My family is from the north of Gaza and consists of a mother, father, four brothers, and one sister. The Israelis captured my father and older brother at the beginning of the war. My mother, sister, and other family were displaced to my home in the Maghazi refugee camp, which was originally the home of my husband’s mother and parents. My mother and brothers stayed with me in our home for only two months. During this time, I helped them, brought them food and water, and bought everything myself. My home was bombed when they were displaced to me, and they quickly fled to an area called Rafah.
My husband, my family, and my husband’s family suffered greatly. They cried and slept in the street for three days without shelter, food, or drink. I called Judy and David to help me buy a tent so I could live in it with my family, my husband’s family, and my husband. We lived in Rafah for four months—all of us in one tent. We suffered greatly and became very tired. I slept in the street, and my daughters wet themselves due to the lack of water. My daughter Asal and I got sick. My daughter’s eyes were damaged by the bombing. She got tired and closed her eyes for some time and couldn’t see. She got tired, and on top of all of this, I was responsible for my daughters, my family, my husband’s family—their lives and all their expenses—because my father and older brother were prisoners, and we had no news about them. They were finally released after one year.
In April 2024, I was given the opportunity to go to Cairo with my young daughters to escape the war. But for my family, life became very difficult because there is no work or money, and no one helps my family in this war except me. I left Gaza, but I didn’t leave my family. I always think about them and communicate with them and check on them and know their news and details of their lives. Every day they are suffering, and now my husband, my family, and my husband’s family are suffering from hunger and terrifying costs to live. They are living the most difficult days of their lives in a dilapidated tent without a mattress, blankets, any equipment, or food. My mother is sick and needs treatment, and it is not provided.
Every day the situation in Gaza is getting more difficult—with fear, killing, hunger, and deprivation. My family goes for a month with just a little pasta or rice. There is no flour, no food, and no healthy drink due to the lack of money and because prices have increased tenfold. On top of that, when I try to help my family and provide them with money to send, there is a 50% commission taken by the office owner. Therefore, my family is suffering, and I am suffering thinking of them. My family needs food, water, a tent, and blankets.
My family now—when the truce happened—they returned from southern Gaza to northern Gaza, and now they are in northern Gaza, living in a tent on a street.
I want to help provide them with food, drink, and some simple needs every evening. I want to find people to take care of them every month just to buy food and drink.
I just want the war to end and for me to be reunited with my husband and for my previous simple, normal life to return to me—which is a house of my own, with my daughters and my husband, and for us to live together like before. I want a job so that I can have money to spend on my daughters and for me to meet my family as well and sit with them and hug them a lot.
