A Cry Beneath the Rubble… A Life Left Unlived

To survive death doesn’t mean you’re truly alive.

On a grey morning in Gaza, destruction painted every corner — scattered stones, broken pillars, dust swallowing the horizon. Suddenly, a faint scream pierced through the silence… It was Anwar. A child emerging not just from beneath the debris, but from a scar that life itself can’t heal.

“I want my mom… I didn’t get to say goodbye. She was sleeping beside me… then everything turned dark.”

Anwar, just nine years old, had been sleeping beside his mother and two sisters in a small room. When the missile struck, the ceiling collapsed in an instant. He woke up in complete darkness — no voices, just fear, blood, and silence. For over 16 hours, he lay trapped beneath the ruins, hearing the distant voices of rescuers, but his own cries couldn’t reach them.

When medics finally pulled him out, he didn’t scream or cry. He stared silently, his eyes asking the question no one could answer. His body was fragile, his face covered in dust — his soul, torn by a loss beyond repair.

“Anwar is stable,” said the doctor. But the truth is, Anwar lost his entire world in seconds.

Today, he lives in a shelter surrounded by children like him — children without laughter. He draws… a house, then crosses it out. He draws a mother, then folds the page. When asked about his dreams, he simply said: “That no other house falls.”

Anwar’s story is not rare. It’s one of thousands. Children who do not grow up — they age under siege and ruins.

• 🔹 Will we let them erase their own childhoods?
• 🔹 Where is our role in defending their right to live?
• 🔹 Has silence become the new norm?

Anwar survived the rubble — but who will save him from the silence? Who will return the life that was stolen from him?