There are moments in Gaza when suffering becomes so ordinary that people stop asking for solutions.
They begin asking only for the smallest relief. A little less pain.
A child who sleeps through the night.
When I entered the clinic that morning, I noticed a young woman carrying a baby so small that I could not tell whether the child was a newborn or simply made tiny by hardship.
When her turn came, she gently placed the baby on my desk and said:
“I want any cream you have.” Any cream. Not a specific medicine. Not a particular treatment.
Just anything.
She uncovered the baby and showed me the severe rash covering much of the child’s fragile skin.
“I treat the baby with whatever free creams I can find in clinics,” she explained.
“Anything helps.”
As she spoke, I noticed something else. The baby was not wearing a diaper. Only pieces of cloth.
I asked why.
“I can’t afford diapers,” she replied calmly. “I wash these and use them again.”
Then she added that they were living in a tent and that her husband had suffered a serious foot injury and was unable to work.
“I’m not asking for much,” she said.
“I only want a cream.”
But what caught my attention most was not the rash.
It was the malnutrition.
The baby was severely underweight. The kind of malnutrition that is visible before any examination even begins.
So I asked the mother whether she had noticed.
She nodded. “Yes, I know.”
Then she said something I cannot forget: “When the baby gets older, things will get better.”
Not because she truly believed it.
But because hope was cheaper than treatment.
And treatment was something she could no longer afford. That was the moment that broke me.
Not the tent. Not the poverty. Not even the illness.
But the fact that this mother had lowered her expectations so much that she no longer dreamed of proper medical care, diapers, or adequate nutrition.
She came asking for the smallest thing she could imagine. A tube of cream.
Any cream.
Something that might make the baby hurt a little less.
The baby could not have been more than five months old.
Too young to understand war. Too young to understand poverty. Yet already carrying both on that tiny body.
There is something profoundly cruel about a world in which a mother’s greatest hope for her child is no longer a better future.
Only a little less suffering tonight.
#WoundedGaza
Most of my life, USS Liberty attack was treated like a conspiracy theory. Why were we misled on that? Why did our media and government not go ballistic over our ship being attacked by a so-called ally? That is super weird. Our national media seems to work for a different country.
Bosnia and Herzegovina fans chanting for Palestine in the streets of Toronto on their way to their first game at the 2026 World Cup 🇵🇸🇧🇦
Fans will always save the tournament!
Israel killed the entire Shaqoura family in Gaza, erasing their names from the register of life, but it will never erase their memory from our hearts. We will not forget this crime, and it will remain etched in our memory for as long as we live
A little child from Gaza…
Wrapped in a white shroud and laid in the sand.
He didn’t die of old age or illness.
He was just a child who dreamed, played, and smiled — until the world allowed him to be killed.
How many more children must be buried before the world wakes up?
Rest in peace, little angel. 🤍
#Gaza #SaveGazaChildren
Israel just executed Ali in South Lebanon.
He wasn’t a fighter.
He was a paramedic.
Israel killed him while he was on the frontlines saving lives.
Israel has now murdered over 135 medics in Lebanon in just 3 months.
And not a peep from the complicit international community.