Manuel

Matemático.

[mohammed hussein~Gaza 🇵🇸 @mohammedIhysse]

There is no sugar in the market right now. This is one of the consequences of the bombing of Iran.

For the past hour, I have been walking through the streets of Gaza trying to buy flour and sugar, fearing that famine may return. I managed to buy 18 kilograms of flour, but I could not find even a single kilo of sugar.

It seems that we may soon be facing death by hunger.
Unfortunately, it feels like famine is returning to us once again. 💔

[Laila Al-Arian @LailaAlarian]

Watch our film “The Disappearance of Dr. Abu Safiya” to learn who he really is. A state committing genocide and the media outlets that helped spread propaganda to justify it are not reliable sources

https://t.co/Oy0sjzlr57

[Abdullah Omar🇵🇸 @Abdullah_Om3r03]

⚠️ Final call for those who care.
❄️💔 Dr. Hossam’s lawyer warns: his heart is exhausted, his body shattered from continuous torture, and the freezing temperatures in his cell are worsening his suffering.
Between cold walls, the doctor who saved hundreds of children and the wounded is left with no adequate food, no heating, and his health is deteriorating day by day.

🔴 Every moment of silence is a contribution to his suffering.
Any delay in saving him could be the moment that costs him his life.

✊🏻 Speak about him… spread his name… do not let the voice of the doctor who saved lives fade away.

#FreeDrHossamAbuSafiya
#FreeDrHossam
#SaveTheDoctors
#DoctorOfHumanity

[Hala Jaber @HalaJaber]

⚠️ Reuters has now confirmed what many suspected.

In early 2024, U.S. diplomats blocked internal cables describing northern Gaza as an “Apocalyptic Wasteland.” The reports included harrowing details: human bones scattered in the streets, bodies left abandoned in cars, & a total collapse of access to food, clean water, and medical aid.

These cables were not speculation. They were based on first-hand field observations from U.N. agencies & humanitarian workers on the ground.

So why were they blocked?

Because they were considered “too graphic.”
Because they “lacked balance.”
Because they might make Israel look bad.

Senior officials at the U.S. Embassy in Jerusalem, including Ambassador Jack Lew & Deputy Chief Stephanie Hallett, stopped the reports from reaching higher levels of the U.S. government. They feared the cables would contradict the administration’s public narrative & disrupt ongoing political cover for Israel’s actions in Gaza.

According to former officials, humanitarian experts were sidelined, ignored, & outright dismissed. Inside meetings, the question from officials was not how to respond to starvation, but reportedly, “Where are all the skinny kids?”

This was not merely policy misjudgment, but complicity on a grand scale.

The Biden administration had access to concrete evidence of mass death, starvation, & social collapse. Instead of sounding the alarm, it chose to suppress the truth to preserve its political position.

They did not just ignore the warnings. They buried them.

Let that sink in.

An exclusive by @mokhbersahafi
https://t.co/YXvrDs1EG7

[Mosab Abu Toha @MosabAbuToha]

Last night, I spent about three hours working on seven family trees, verifying the ages and relationships of victims of Israel’s war crimes.

If you’ve been following me, you’ll know that I’ve shared many family trees before. I’ve now returned to documenting families who were killed earlier in the genocide.

This is the first family I’m sharing in this series. Twelve people were killed: two parents, their children, and several grandchildren. Their ages ranged from 60 to just 1 year old.

Follow me here, and please share and amplify.

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

A doctor friend who came to Gaza with a medical delegation told me he wanted to offer a small act of support to orphaned children.
The word small felt bitterly ironic in a place where even breathing has become heavier than people can endure.

We decided to go together to a school that had recently reopened in Jabalia, in northern Gaza or what is still called a school, because the word itself can no longer carry the truth.

When we arrived, it felt less like entering an educational institution and more like stepping into a chapter from a book about the end of the world.

No walls.
No classrooms.
No blackboards.

Just fewer than twenty tents erected over what was once a children’s playground,
a place once meant for running and laughter,
now repurposed as a shelter for survival,
and a stage where education rises from ashes.

Children sit directly on the ground, as their ancestors once did centuries ago, but while their grandparents learned out of curiosity and hope, these children learn out of sheer necessity to survive.

Small faces scorched by sun and fear.
Eyes older than their years.
Fragile bodies carrying a fatigue no child should ever have to bear.

We asked how many students were enrolled.

The number struck like a bullet to the chest:
1,884 children !!

I thought I had misheard.
I asked again.
The principal repeated it calmly (a calm that felt like surrender ) then opened a thick notebook filled with names.
Names beyond what this space could possibly contain,
and beyond what the heart could bear without breaking.

1,884 children in fewer than twenty tents.
Three shifts a day.
Three hours per child.
Only three days a week.

Even education here has been rationed, fragmented, besieged,
as if knowledge itself requires permits,
as if the mind, too, lives under blockade.

Then we asked about the number of orphans.

We expected a number we could emotionally withstand ..
twenty or thirty … something survivable.

But the number exceeded our ability to stand:

181 orphaned children, in this one school alone !!

181 hearts broken before they could fully form.
181 children returning to tents with no father, no mother, no real roof, no shoulder to lean on.
181 young souls forced to grow too soon, learning fear instead of songs.

One out of every ten children here is an orphan.
One out of every ten carries a void nothing will ever fill.
One out of every ten begins life standing on the edge.

Orphanhood here is not merely the loss of a parent
it is the loss of safety,
the loss of childhood,
the loss of the right to grow slowly.

These children will not grow as they should.
They will grow carrying memories heavier than their ages.
They will grow knowing the world betrayed them early.
And they will carry with them a silent question:
Why us? And why alone?!

And the cruelest truth of all?

This is only one school.
And this is only a fraction of a catastrophe too vast to count.

We no longer count students.
We count orphans.
We measure devastation by the number of children who lost their parents.
We measure the future by the number of hearts broken in childhood.

This is not an education crisis.
This is not a passing tragedy.

This is a crime being committed against an entire generation,
an uprooting of dreams before they are born,
a demolition of a future before it is allowed to breathe.

When we left, there were no words in my chest. only a weight that felt like mourning,
a sorrow unlike any I had known before,
and the realization that we were not standing before a school,
but before a delayed cemetery for children’s dreams.

If 181 orphans exist in a single school,
how many orphans does all of Gaza now carry in its heart?
And how many more childhoods must be buried
before the world understands
that what is happening here
is not a war, but a slow slaughter of an entire people’s future?

#WoundedGaza

[Hind Khoudary @Hind_Gaza]

What being a woman in Gaza means in this genocidal war | Israel-Palestine conflict | Al Jazeera https://t.co/fWEj5vG7Tq

[Manuel @Pragabhava]

@caitoz Caitlin, with respect, when referring to drugs and the west, you should point out that it's all a psyop. I know you are anti-interventionist and you don't mean it that way, but for some of your readers, it might come across as if stepping on Mexico is okay.

[Manuel @Pragabhava]

@nxt888 Sony, I admire your wisdom and that’s why I feel compelled to say that what happened in Mexico wasn’t activists setting fire to parliament, but far right agitators trying to set up the stage for a soft coup on our democratically elected “for the peoples” government.

[Mosab Abu Toha @MosabAbuToha]

My wife and I just spoke with our families in Gaza. Most of them told us they’ll be sleeping tonight on mattresses and blankets completely soaked with rainwater.

More than half of our relatives are children, some under the age of five.
And yes, tonight they will sleep on wet mattresses and blankets, in a tent on the street.

I know that sharing this won’t change anything for them, not tonight, and not even next year. How do I know?
Because babies have burned in tents, been beheaded, and been buried beneath the rubble, and not a single person stepped in to save their lives.

So how am I supposed to expect that anyone will save the life of a child who may die from the cold?
Can a camera capture the cold the way it captures flames?

Anyway, the only reason I’m writing this is because they told me these things, and I feel it is my duty to share them with you. It is a responsibility.
A responsibility for them to speak as they suffer,
a responsibility for me to carry their story,
and a responsibility, ah, what a responsibility, for you to take action.

Yes, it is your money that is killing us and funding our murderers and oppressors.
It is your governments that are protecting our slaughterers.

[marah khalad @mar80549]

I drew this piece with a black ink pen, in a moment when I was searching for a breath for my sorrow not for admiration.
People admired its lines, yet none of them heard the silent screams hidden within its shadows.

Every line I drew was a pain breathing,
every detail a muted cry escaping from deep within me,
as I fought psychological, familial, and physical pressures slowly consuming me.

Black wasn’t an artistic choice…
it was a mirror of my soul when it lost all its colors.

This artwork is not just ink on paper
it is a tale of heavy, unspoken pain,
a sorrow I wish no one would ever endure as I did.

The feeling that gave birth to it still lives inside me,
killing me in silence… just as darkness swallows the light

[Palestine Daily News✌️🇵🇸✌️ @Palestinedaily1]

If you stand with Dr. Hussam Abu Safieh, reply with a dot to spread this.

[Alon Mizrahi @alon_mizrahi]

To everyone who's disheartened by Trump's media circus at the service of psychopathic Netanyahu and Zionism, and the apparent success of this circus to derail a growing pro-Palestine wave: don't be alarmed or thrown off by any of that. It is meaningless nonsense.

Remember that the US cannot solve anything and cannot impose anything on anyone. Its power exists only in our heads. The US cannot solve any of its huge problems, and it is led by people who are not even capable of understanding them.

All they do is spectacles, shows, and parades of nothingness. From Ukraine to Yemen to Iraq, whatever the US has tried to do, it has always, invariably failed.

The US only succeeds where there is no resistance, and even there, it's failing: its European partners were forced to recognize Palestine.

Also, remember that Palestine survived 100 times worse for more than a century of international treachery.

Also remember that any media circus is always short-lived. Real life will soon intervene, like it has over the past two years, which have consistently made Israel and America's stance worse.

They are losers, hated and despised by humanity, and 1000 organized operations to eff them up are underway - from the US itself, when support for Israel is in skydive mode - to Europe, to the Hague Group, to so many others.

There is no coming back from standing with mass baby murder. It is all bullshit. All of it.

The US and Israel have nowhere to go and no ability to go anywhere. They are weak and useless media-controlling old, crumbling monsters in deep panic. They cannot fight anyone or any war seriously, and when they try, they will find out.

Palestine is not going anywhere, and Gaza is not going anywhere. We are winning. Don't let them mess with your head, because that's the only thing they are still good at.

Trump is a nobody; his words and actions have no weight, and Netanyahu is an evil demon without one real friend in this world.

So no confusion and no anxiety. Only more dedication and resolve to bring this win home and free Palestine and humanity from Zionism. Shout louder and work harder: victory is nearer than we imagine.

Let no one make the mistake of thinking we can be put off course this easily. The pathetic fake plan will soon be forgotten. What will remain is Israel's growing isolation, humanity's growing hate for the child murderers, and the unstoppable clock ticking for the end of another colonial outpost.

Fuck all the plans and all the tyrants. Free Palestine
-
Stay focused.

[Manuel @Pragabhava]

@khaldunham You deserve the world.

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

Today she came. Pale. Trembling. A young woman no older than twenty-five, clutching in her arms her son, her last living fragment of hope. The boy was limp, his little arms hanging as though life itself had slipped from them. His eyes were two dead stars. Behind her walked the grandmother. A grandmother who had already buried too many. Her face so worn that it seemed older than the land itself, older than grief.

The mother spoke haltingly, every word torn from her throat like a piece of flesh.
“Diarrhea. Five days,” she whispered, as if naming an unforgivable sin.
“But what frightens me…” Her voice cracked. “He no longer eats.”

“Since when?” I asked, though I was afraid to know.

Ah, that silence. That silence was like a bell tolling for the dead. She looked at her mother, as though asking for permission to speak. Then, with a kind of resigned despair, she confessed: “For a long time.”

I gave her medicine. A hollow gesture. A lie we tell ourselves so we do not collapse. She left without a word. But the grandmother stayed.

She came closer. Each step was heavy, as if she were carrying not her own body but the body of every mother who ever lived. She leaned toward me and spoke with the voice of someone who has seen hell.
“Do not ask her,” she said. “She cannot say it. The child stopped eating on the day he saw his father fall. He saw the blood. He saw the body. He saw everything.”

Then she too left, and I was alone with the weight of the world.

I am no psychologist. But I have seen the abyss in men’s hearts, and I know what it means when a child refuses life itself. This is not a disease of the stomach. This is the soul crying out: No more.

Tell me, what happens to a child’s mind when the first god he ever knew, his father, is struck down before him? What happens when the one who was meant to shield him from death becomes death?

The father’s blood was not the only thing spilled that day. The child’s faith was spilled with it. The world collapsed for him. There is no food sweet enough to make him want to taste life again.

And this is the deepest cruelty of genocide. It is not the heap of corpses that marks its victory. It is not the smoking ruins. It is not the screams at night. Its triumph is when a living child sits in the dust and refuses the breast, refuses the bread, refuses the world itself.

This child will grow, if he grows, with a hollow inside him no bread will ever fill. No embrace will ever close. He will learn to love with fear, to sleep with ghosts beside him. And one day, when he becomes a father, he will place into his child’s hands not only his love but also his terror.

And this is how extermination stretches its fingers into the future. It kills not only the body but the capacity to live.

Gaza is not merely a place under bombs. It is a factory of grief, a workshop of despair. What is being forged here is not just ruin. It is a generation of children who will one day walk the earth carrying death in their memories, in their dreams, in the way they touch the world.

As I write this, my chest burns. My hands tremble. I feel as though my own heart is being gnawed from the inside by rats. If there is a God, and I dare still to believe, then He must be weeping over Gaza tonight.

Yes, the father was killed. But the greater crime, the eternal crime, is this: the slow, unseen murder of the child’s soul.

This is our apocalypse. Not fire from heaven. Not angels with trumpets. But a child sitting in the rubble, lips pressed shut, eyes empty, refusing to swallow the world’s cruelty.

#GazaGenocide

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

I must write this down before the night devours me.
My father’s friend, a poet and a guardian of words, the son of a family that owns the oldest library in Gaza, that sacred house where history and imagination slept together like weary brothers… he is leaving.
Yes. Leaving.
He is fleeing Gaza City.

He wrote yesterday, with the voice of a man who has reached the last edge of human despair:
“I cannot take the books with me. If there is anyone who can save them, let him come. It would break my heart to see them burn, for I have placed my heart within them, and my heart will burn with them.”

This is not metaphor. This is not the polished language of salons.
He says plainly: my heart will burn.
And I believe him.

Dozens upon dozens of volumes, centuries of memory, law, history, economics, literature, the wisdom of the dead, now lie waiting to be carried away like children from a burning house. Not sold. Not bartered. Not traded. Offered. Offered as one offers a soul to anyone willing to save it from hell.

This is Gaza.
Where we are made to abandon, again and again, the last sacred pieces of our existence. Not ornaments. Not luxuries. But the very marrow of our being.
Here survival is surgery without anaesthetic: we cut away memory to keep the breath.
We cut away words to keep the body.
We cut away the past to stumble, blind, into a future that does not want us.
And so we go on, less and less human, until what is left is no man at all but a wound that breathes.

Here in Gaza, books are exiled with their writers. Letters are orphaned like children crying in the streets. Libraries, temples of memory, are scattered like bones, like families fleeing in the night.

And I ask: what remains?
What is left of us?
A people stripped bare, stripped of houses, of books, of the very act of remembering.
A people ordered to forget.
To forget!

But no.
No!
Every page that burns becomes a prophet. Every letter that turns to ash becomes a witness against heaven and earth.
If the houses fall, if the books burn, let it be known: this too is part of the crime. Not merely the killing of the body, but the attempted erasure of memory itself, the murder of the soul.

And yet, even as the pages blacken, they do not die.
They rise. Yes, they rise. As smoke into the night sky, into the face of God Himself, whispering:

We were here.
We wrote.
We dreamed.
We loved.

And I swear to you, if the world has any conscience left, one day it will hear them.
And it will tremble.
And it will kneel.

#GazaGenocide

[Juan Pablo San Esteban @JuanPasan13]

https://t.co/jqL3ehw7aa

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

While families across the world lie safely in their beds tonight, here in Gaza the Israeli army ordered an evacuation: an UNRWA shelter(once a clinic) emptied in minutes. Inside were 300 families. Opposite it, another shelter, a school, holding 500 more.

Now all of them, over 800 families are in the street. Driven out into the darkness, clutching their children, dragging the old and the sick, rushing into the night with nowhere to go.

Eight hundred families sleep tonight on bare asphalt. Not because of something they did, not because of guilt, but because a soldier decided their lives could be uprooted at midnight. Because the world decided their suffering was tolerable, ignorable, forgettable.

This is not war, it is deliberate humiliation. It is the calculated stripping away of the last fragments of dignity, forcing mothers, fathers, children, and the elderly into the streets like discarded objects. These people were not bombed out by explosions, but pushed into the night by a soldier’s whim so they might finally “learn” to leave Gaza.

And you, yes, you, reading these words, what will you do with this image? Hundreds of families stumbling into the night, infants crying in their mothers’ arms, old men collapsing on sticks, children dragging sacks bigger than their bodies. Will you scroll past it, tell yourself it is “complicated,” reassure yourself it is “politics”? Or will you admit that your silence makes you part of this?

Imagine the cold street where they now sit, pressed together for warmth, listening to distant bombs as if they were reminders that the world has erased them. Imagine the girl whose blanket is the night air itself, the boy who closes his eyes knowing there will be no home to wake to. Imagine their mothers—who cry the same way your mother would cry for you.

History is being written in these streets. Not with ink, but with bare feet on pavement. Not with speeches, but with the sobbing of children who will not be remembered. And when they vanish, do not tell yourself you didn’t know. You did. You read these words. You saw the pictures. And you chose.

This is not security. This is sadism. This is the deliberate breaking of a people under the indifferent gaze of a world too comfortable to care. And tomorrow, when the sun rises, Gaza will rise too not as a city, not as a home, but as a procession of shadows, wandering through dust and rubble. They will carry nothing but their grief, and the bitter knowledge that the world let them die in the open.

#GazaGenocide

[Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya د.حسام أبو صفية @HussamAbuSafiya]

Gheed Kassem, lawyer of Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya:

From Vienna Airport to Ofer Prison to the two Hussams, that was the morning of August 28, 2025. It was my eighth visit to Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya, followed by a visit to Hussam Zaher, Dr. Hussam’s nephew, who is held in the same prison. Both of them are exposed to sunlight for only thirty minutes a month, while scabies and boils ravage their bodies, and they remain in the same clothes. As for bathing, it lasts only two minutes, and they have each lost a third of their body weight. They are in dire need of dermatologists and medicines to treat the widespread skin diseases and infections.

As for Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya’s most recent message, he said: “I entered in the name of humanity, and I will leave in the name of humanity. I am the one who was abducted from inside the hospital. We will remain on our land and continue to provide healthcare services to the people, God willing, even from a tent.”