My name is Nina Gorman, a 68 year old psychotherapist and social science teacher from Philadelphia, PA, USA and human rights advocate who has been supporter of Palestinian rights since 1982. I am doing this campaign to support the family from Al-Tuffah, Gaza of Sanaa Maher (age 23), her father Maher Mohammed (58), her mother Dalia Fawzy (47), her brother Muhannad Maher (29), and her sister Lamiaa Maher (25) and her  brother Mohammed Maher (17) to survive in Gaza and hopefully to evacuate to join other family in Egypt where mother holds Egyptian citizenship. The picture is of graduation ceremony for Lamiaa before the war when they were healthy and happy. 

   I came to know Sanaa Maher though a Palestinian artist, Ahmed Khaled known in Gaza for his beautiful art work I purchased and later marketed in my country. Sanaa is an bright hardworking woman with kind heart who struggles diligently to help her family.

The family has endured such hardship in the brutal war on Gaza losing their home which was bombed moving place to place to escape and losing many possessions though they were relieved to escape with their lives. They have endured the loss of many relatives with much grieving. Father Mohammed suffers from heart blockage with effects on lungs, leading to frequent loss of consciousness and hospitalizations. Mother Dalia needs continual medications and follow up assessments from complications from hysterectomy from removal of tumor. Brother Muhannad suffers from injured elbow and brother Mohammed foot injury making daily numerous tasks a struggle. The siblings are prone to illness from living in crowded tent conditions where parasitic infections flourish and with the destruction of hospitals and meager treatment. They are at risk of respiratory illnesses from constant smoke from cooking on wood fire. It would be nice to get them a gas tube to cook to decrease risk of illness and risk of death of Dad  They must wait in long lines for food and often come back with nothing. They are malnourished and at risk of starvation. 

  I urge you to donate whatever you can to ameliorate their suffering, save their lives from dangerous illnesses, prevent their starvation and assist in their emotional and practical healing.

 All funds from any donations will be transferred from my secure USA bank account to the secure PayPal of Saana Maher. Scroll down to see Budget for the Campaign.

Here is Sanaa's Story in Her own Words

My name is Sanaa Maher. 

I'm a young Palestinian woman, born in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood of Gaza on August 3, 2003. Throughout my life, I was academically outstanding at every stage of my education. I consistently achieved an excellent grade and in 2021 I graduated from high school in the scientific stream with an average of 91%. Following that, I enrolled at university to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in Optometry. I successfully completed two years of my studies with a very good GPA. However, at the very beginning of my third year — the year before graduation — humanity faced one of its darkest chapters, a brutal aggression fell upon my small city and continued for nearly two years, during that time, we were forced to leave everything behind: our homes, our loved ones, our dreams, and our ambitions.

We became people in constant flight — moving from place to place, driven only by fear and an endless search for safety, living through days so terrifying that the mind struggles to comprehend them. We lost our home. We lived in tents. We moved from one shelter to another, from one place to the next, as if every form of suffering descended upon us all at once!There were moments when we nearly lost our sanity from the horrors we witnessed.

Many times, we walked toward the unknown, not knowing where we were going or where our footsteps would lead us — escaping danger, searching for safety.We slept without shelter.We endured days without food.It felt like hell itself — a nightmare I truly wish I could forget. Today, after two long years, those who survived are trying to gather the fragments of their shattered lives: searching for a roof to shelter them, and a source of income to feed their families. Trying, once again, to believe in dreams and ambitions — because from the deepest suffering, a fragile flower of hope can still grow.

Today, I stand before you having lost so much.

I lost people who held a great place in my heart.

I lost my home — the place where my childhood and my most beautiful memories lived.

I lost my city, once among the most beautiful cities in the world.

I lost the most precious years of my life and the success I worked so hard to achieve.

Yet despite all of this, I'm here — holding on once more to hope, to dreams, and to the belief that tomorrow can be better.Today, there are no job opportunities.There is no income.Poverty has exceeded all expectations.

My only wish is to complete my university education — just one more year, and to help my family secure food and the basic necessities of daily life because everyone knows that almost all job opportunities have disappeared in our city after all this destruction, and the sources of income for the affected families are practically nonexistent. 

I live with my father, mother, sister, and two brothers. We spend our days trying to gather firewood and burn it, which produces very harmful smoke that is bad for our health and the environment. 

My mother, Dalia, 48 years old, is suffering from serious and noticeable health problems because of sitting for hours in front of the fire trying to cook the little food we can afford. My mother underwent a hysterectomy just a few months before the war. Her health was in a critical state, and doctors diagnosed benign tumors in her uterus. By what felt like a miracle, she received the surgery in time and was saved. But the doctors were clear: she would need regular medical checkups to protect her health. Today, after the widespread destruction the war has inflicted on every aspect of life, such care is no longer available. Since then, my mother has never returned to how she once was—her condition has become far worse.

My mother holds Egyptian citizenship. At the beginning of the war, she was called to travel, but she refused to leave without us. She had not been able to pass her citizenship on to us before, as the process required large sums of money for each family member something we simply could not afford. The only option for us to leave with her was to pay $5,000 per person. For our large family this is an overwhelming and impossible amount .So we stayed. We had no choice but to live through every moment of this war together, while my mother’s health continued to deteriorate day after day.Today, we are trying to raise enough money to evacuate from Gaza and go to Egypt, where my mother’s family lives. We have been told that now it is possible to coordinate an exit—if we can pay.

My father, Maher, who was our main provider, is no longer able to work after undergoing heart catheterization and suffering from severe lung problems. My father’s health is slipping away before our eyes. He suffers from repeated loss of consciousness and severe chest infections that leave him weaker each day. In their initial assessment, doctors said he urgently needs a second cardiac catheterization, but asked us to wait until further tests are completed—tests that are difficult to access in a place where even the most basic medical resources are no longer available. He is nearly 60 years old, yet every single day he pushes himself to go out and find work, trying to provide for our family despite his condition. But even the smallest effort can cause him to collapse. More than once, he has been rushed from his workplace to the hospital, where he remains for days at a time, only to return to the same harsh reality. What he needs is clear: a proper diagnosis, consistent medical care, and a chance to be treated with dignity. But here, where the healthcare system—and life itself—has been devastated, even that feels out of reach.

My older brother, Muhannad, is only 29, yet his body carries burdens far heavier than his years.A severe injury has damaged his elbow years ago, but even pain has not been enough to stop him. Day after day, he walks long distances just to carry water, pushing through exhaustion and hardship because there is no other choice. Three years ago he held onto dignity in the simplest way he could—selling small children’s toys, moving from one place to another, hoping to earn just enough to help our family survive. It wasn’t much, but it was honest, and it was his. Today, even that small source of hope is gone. For the past two years, he has tried again and again to build something, anything—a small job, a new beginning—but every attempt has slipped through his hands. Not because he lacks effort or will, but because this city has been stripped of opportunity. Here, work is scarce, dreams are fragile, and poverty weighs on every corner. And still, he keeps going.

My sister Lamia, 25 years old, finished her studies about 3 years ago. Although I'm still studying, we were both looking for jobs so we could help in this difficult situation here, but unfortunately, as I mentioned before, there are no opportunities. My younger brother, Mohammed, 17 years old, is trying hard this year to pass his high school exams, despite all the difficulties he faces, from running around looking for clean water to searching for firewood for cooking, He remains determined to succeed despite all the suffering he is going through and tries to study as much as possible, Although he is prohibited from lifting heavy weights due to an old foot injury, he insists on helping.

This is how we try to survive these difficult days by helping each other, but unfortunately there is always a significant shortage of the things we need due to the difficult financial situation in the whole city. Therefore, I humbly ask for your support to help us rebuild our lives — through your generosity and your belief in our humanitarian cause and in justice. We are asking for your help. Like everyone here, we dream of safety, of stability, of a life where we can live as human beings with basic rights.

Thank you from my heart. Sincerely Sanaa

• CAMPAIGN BUDGET
• Survival in Gaza for Food and Water for
• Family for 3 months (750/ month)
• Including for lentils, potatoes, and if available
• greens, eggplant, noodles, cucumbers, milk
• squash, flour, and chicken $2250

• Doctors visits for family for 3 months ,
• Emergency dental
• Medications for family including father for 
•  heart, lungs, and mother for surgery follow ups
•  and for all 
• For rashes, infections and illnesses
•         320 per month for 3 months  $960

• Tent repair $200
• Battery and Fan for Tent $ 280
• Phone and charging per month $60 
• Survival in Egypt for Food and Water for
• Family of six for 3 months (700 month)
• Including for lentils, chicken, lamb, carrots,
• potatoes, tomatoes, greens, eggplant, rice
• squash, flour, and fruit & milk $2100

• Clothes in Gaza for family of 6 for 3 months
• (240 per month) $ 720
• Clothes in Egypt for family of 6 for 3 months
• (240 per month) $720
• Family Toiletries and cleaners in Gaza including
• Shampoo, soap, spray & floor cleaners,
• deodorant and toothpaste for 3 months
• (100 month) $300
• Family Toiletries and cleaners in Egypt including
• Shampoo, soap, spray & floor cleaners,
• deodorant and toothpaste for 3 months
• (60 month) $180
• Transportation in Gaza for 3 months for
• Family of 6 (100 month) $300

•  Transportation in Egypt for 3 months for
• Family of 6 (100 month) $300

• Rent in Egypt for 3 months for basic three bedroom
• Apartment or house for family of six (700 month) $2100

• Evacuation to Egypt for Family of 6 with

Hala Travel & Tourism Company with no other organizations or coordinators

$5,000 for six adults                       25,000

TOTAL                                    $35,470

• All donations will be transferred from my secure USA bank account to the PayPal of Saana Maher