Abed and Bara Elshaer are a young Palestinian couple living in Gaza with Abed’s mother, sister, and two brothers. Over the course of the genocide their home was completely destroyed and they have been displaced several times. They currently live in a displaced camp in Khan Yunis and they are raising funds for their continued survival and eventual escape from Gaza. These are some of the basic facts about them, but there is so much more to know about them. 

Abed and his family are people of deep faith, and they frequently reference how their Muslim faith has seen them through the difficult months of the genocide. When asked about his favorite music Abed replied that he most enjoys listening to the Quran, as its words bring him peace and strength. In conversation they are often very warm, kind, and tremendously funny. Before the genocide Abed played professional football and won several awards, and Bara was a student at Al-Aqsa University in her final year of studies to become an Arabic teacher. Bara often talks about the things she does to keep her spirits up, such as wearing a pink hijab to contrast with the grey of the rubble and keeping their living area neat and organized to affirm their dignity in a dehumanizing situation. They never forget the people who’ve helped them so far and will take time to thank them even while fighting for their own survival. 


There is no work available at all in Gaza, and right now no aid is being let in, so the price of basic goods is astronomical. A bag of flour costs $300 in Gaza, and the average monthly income for one person is $193. They are completely reliant on what they receive in donations for their daily survival, and have to pay steep transfer fees to access that money, to say nothing of the difficulties of sourcing goods to buy. Recently they were able to repair their tent with nylon to help keep them warm amidst cold winter temperatures and rain, something that would not have been possible without the support they’ve received, but even securing that was an ordeal that took several days. The constant search for money, food, and other resources adds significant stress to an already harrowing situation. 

On top of all that there is the ever-present reality of collective death and destruction. They often talk about those aspects of their lives that their videos could never capture, such as the feeling of seeing new corpses each day, of trying to sleep on an empty stomach as wind and rain seeps into your tent, of hearing drones and helicopters flying above you at all hours and fearing you may become their next target, of hoping for peace agreements that never seem to materialize. There was one day recently where an Israeli missile landed mere meters away from where they were standing. Not long after that they had to help bury a friend who’d finally been found amidst the rubble. Though they readily discuss how they trust Allah completely and accept whatever He wills for them, they are also open about their fear, fear of harm and fear of death.

They try not to dwell on the past, but their sense of loss is palpable. Bara describes their lives before the genocide as being simple but beautiful. Her daily routine centered on studying, arranging their house and cooking, and back then she could buy all kinds of food to cook whatever dishes she wanted. She had many cats that she loved and took care of, giving each one a name. Abed would go to work at a shop, and when he returned he was returning to a beautiful place of safety, comfort, and love. They visited their families regularly, and back then their biggest wish, after seven years of marriage, was to have a child of their own. In reflecting on the start of the genocide, Bara said she noticed that her beloved cats would get scared and run away whenever they heard bombing. There was one particularly awful day where there was continuous bombing for over an hour. Since that time she hasn’t seen her cats, and she misses them. 

This is all to say that it has not been any easier for them to bear this genocide than it would be for you to trade places with them. It is not something that the months have desensitized them to, nor is it something that they or anyone is meant to endure at all, much less for this length of time. They often talk about how they are not strong people, how they are just normal people who have been thrust into an unthinkable circumstance, and it is something worth reflecting on, exactly how much suffering they can be asked to bear alone.


Over the past six months their story has reached many people and they’ve seen a tremendous response to their fundraising efforts. This fundraiser is itself just one more way to do what we can to help ease their suffering, and we hope that you participate and help make it successful. That said, though we hope it is successful, it is not something that can erase their difficulties on its own, or that ends the need for further support from others. We hope that you let this serve as your gateway into a larger effort, that you continue to support them even after the month is over, by regularly giving what you can and sharing their story with others you know. Everything you do means more to them than you can comprehend, and it takes all of us to make a miracle happen for them.