layan 🇵🇸

This baby has all its limbs intact, unlike the innocent children in Gaza.

Me liking every post about israel burning

the cats and dogs in gaza were so starved they began to eat the dead bodies of palestinians who were shot by snipers on the street where their family members couldn’t reach them

She was 6

what a GOOD morning 🙂‍↕️

Not Gaza, but Tel Aviv.

Several times per week we find out that the Israeli army is intentionally assassinating children

their lives are more valuable than every zionist diplomat combined, as far as i'm concerned

Neither do Gaza's adults.

@selissorare_ x.com/fetishlsfun/st…

yall are falling for the rage bait

@lovesongomez_ there’s a second angle lol

@FetishlsFun The video is edited, that didn't happened at all

@Sephimy it’s beyond disgusting and tone deaf 😵‍💫

Make it stop. This is beyond evil and horrific. Where is the international community in bringing in peacekeeping forces to protect Palestinians from genocidal violence?

Palestinian children wearing their eid clothes, Gaza.

@3lawyy_9 💗🩷💗

eid mubarak beautiful people 🩷 i wish you all happiness in the world

While many knew Hossam as a fearless journalist, there was so much more to him. He was a young man with dreams, with a sense of humor, and a heart full of life. He loved dressing well, even in the middle of chaos, once joking: “What if I run into a cute girl while reporting? I want to look good!” Hossam had crushes. He wanted to fall in love, to build a family, to be a husband and a father. He talked about the future like he believed in it — like it was something real and reachable. He wanted more than headlines and frontlines. He wanted soft mornings, quiet dinners, laughter with loved ones. He dreamed of leaving Gaza someday, saying, “When this is all over, I’m taking a long break — I want to visit a beautiful country.” He longed for peace — not just for his people, but for his own soul. A chance to breathe freely, to explore, to just be. He grew up by the sea and loved seafood deeply. The ocean was part of him — he’d smile and say, “I love everything seafood — I grew up with it.” There was something about the water that calmed him, something that reminded him of home, even as the world around him was in pieces. At night, you’d find him with his headphones on, listening to music — especially Palestinian songs. He’d spend time during the day downloading them so he could escape into melodies once the city quieted down. It was his small form of peace — rhythm in the middle of ruin. He was pure. He was innocent. There was a gentleness in him that never hardened, even in war. A softness that stayed untouched by the noise around him. He believed in beauty, in love, in something better. And that is how he should be remembered — not just as a journalist, but as a young man who wanted to live.

Hasan was 19, Hossam was 23, Ismael was 27.. 'Israel' killed them all.

This is Hossam’s team, and we are sharing his final message : “If you’re reading this, it means I have been killed—most likely targeted—by the Israeli occupation forces. When this all began, I was only 21 years old—a college student with dreams like anyone else. For past 18 months, I have dedicated every moment of my life to my people. I documented the horrors in northern Gaza minute by minute, determined to show the world the truth they tried to bury. I slept on pavements, in schools, in tents—anywhere I could. Each day was a battle for survival. I endured hunger for months, yet I never left my people’s side. By God, I fulfilled my duty as a journalist. I risked everything to report the truth, and now, I am finally at rest—something I haven’t known in the past 18 months . I did all this because I believe in the Palestinian cause. I believe this land is ours, and it has been the highest honor of my life to die defending it and serving its people. I ask you now: do not stop speaking about Gaza. Do not let the world look away. Keep fighting, keep telling our stories—until Palestine is free.” — For the last time, Hossam Shabat, from northern Gaza.