<p><iframe src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Ylz3LjNrWVc" width="560" height="314" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe></p>
<p>📽️ They Are Waiting for Us 🕊️</p>
<p>❝ Rawan started asking me:<br />“Why did my foot go to heaven before I did?<br />Why didn’t it take me with it?”<br />She was sleeping in this room… When she woke up, her foot was gone. ❞</p>
<p>In Gaza, children are losing not only their homes, but also their bodies and their childhoods. When Rawan realized at the hospital that she had lost her foot, she tried to stand on her remaining leg. She wanted to walk… She cried… Her psychological well-being was deeply affected from that day on.</p>
<p>❝ I want to have a prosthetic leg.<br />I want to play with my friends.<br />I want to go to kindergarten.<br />I want to take my mother’s phone to be charged… ❞</p>
<p>Rawan’s biggest dream was to go to kindergarten. Today, they live in darkness, by candlelight. There is no electricity. There is no bed. Rawan sleeps on the floor. But her dreams are still alive.</p>
<p>❝ When I grow up, I want to be a doctor… To treat people. ❞</p>
<p><br />As Mavi Marmara’s Gaza Representative Office, we continue to stand by the children and families who share their life stories with us. We continue our efforts to help injured children stand on their feet again and hold on to life.</p>

<p><iframe src="//www.youtube.com/embed/d6kc-_Q-mF0" width="560" height="314" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><br /><br /></p>
<p>❝ We had to flee our home during the bombing. As we were escaping, my joint was fractured. They shot and killed my brother before my eyes, and that eye can no longer see. ❞</p>
<p>Everyone in Gaza has a painful story. Our uncle Maher Jalal Dahshan is just one of them... His facial expressions and weary body carry the story of unbearable pain. He is the head of a family of five; one of his sons is disabled, another was killed, and their home has been reduced to rubble.</p>
<p>Now, he lives with his family in a simple shelter that offers no protection from the cold. Yet despite everything, he continues to show us what hope truly means. This is the story of our uncle Maher Jalal Dahshan...</p>
<p>We continue our emergency relief efforts in Gaza, delivering your support to families in need who are struggling with the hardships of life. Please continue to support us.</p>

<p><iframe src="//www.youtube.com/embed/PJ5tKQgv1iQ" width="560" height="314" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe></p>
<p>We arrived in Tunisia.</p>
<p>We were kept waiting at the airport for 15 hours without water, food, or even tea; we were interrogated. I said to myself, <em>I hope difficult beginnings lead to beautiful endings.</em></p>
<p>Finally, we reached the Freedom Flotilla ship, filled with hope. After a difficult journey, three days later, we anchored off the coast of Malta, in international waters.</p>
<p>It was 12:15 a.m.</p>
<p>I got ready and lay down in my bed, scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, there was an explosion.</p>
<p>I was startled. A strange fear gripped my heart.</p>
<p>It was strange because we were on a ship…</p>
<p>I wondered, Could something have fallen, broken, or shattered? Did something happen to the generator? Was there a malfunction in the electrical system?</p>
<p>As a thousand possibilities raced through my mind, I rushed outside.</p>
<p>Two members of the ship’s crew were running around in panic, shouting, <strong>“Gather everyone at the back of the ship!”</strong></p>
<p>My fear became even more intense. Because these were the people responsible for the technical and generator systems.</p>
<p>Time suddenly seemed to speed up. It felt as though my mind had stopped.</p>
<p>I was trying to understand what was happening, but I couldn’t make sense of anything. I was simply following them.</p>
<p>We reached the back of the ship.</p>
<p>“A drone,” someone said. At first, I couldn’t process it.</p>
<p>“They’re going to hit us,” he said. I still couldn’t comprehend it.</p>
<p>“Turn off the lights!” he said. I still thought there was some kind of electrical problem.</p>
<p>Just then, there was a second explosion.</p>
<p>That was the moment when fear reached its peak. It was the fear of uncertainty…</p>
<p>“Brother, what’s happening?” I asked.</p>
<p>“They’re attacking us with drones!” he said.</p>
<p>At that moment, I looked around. I saw two drones in the sky.</p>
<p>I grabbed my phone. That fear, anxiety, excitement…</p>
<p>Amid emotions I cannot describe, I started recording a video.</p>
<p>What I experienced lasted only two minutes.</p>
<p>But those two minutes were a small glimpse of what the people of Gaza — children, women, girls, young people, and the elderly — had been enduring for 17 months.</p>
<p>I experienced it for only two minutes.</p>
<p>They have been living through it for a century.</p>
<p>And I experienced it 1,500 miles away from Gaza, off the coast of Malta, in international waters.</p>
<p>In a place where we believed the law existed…</p>
<p>It never even crossed my mind that Israel would do something like this. But it did.</p>
<p>This was an act of terror.</p>
<p>What state are the people of Gaza in right now? How brutally have they been killed, and how brutally are they still being killed…</p>
<p>With these thoughts, I felt ashamed of myself.</p>
<p>But knowing that I had boarded this ship and was standing alongside them gave me tremendous courage.</p>
<p>Ruthless, murderous, Zionist Israel; go to hell!</p>
<p>While you think you are frightening us, you are actually giving us courage!</p>

<p style="text-align: center;">They Are Waiting for Us 🕊️</p>
<p>❝ The situation we are in is much worse than you can imagine… When we woke up in the morning, our entire tent, beds, and food were submerged in water. The water was more than half a meter deep… Everything we had was ruined. ❞</p>
<p>Heavy rain in Gaza has once again struck families already struggling to survive in extremely difficult conditions. Tents were flooded, beds were soaked, and belongings became unusable. Many families woke up to the day in the cold, completely vulnerable and without protection.</p>
<p>These people need more than just a place to shelter; they need support to breathe again and rebuild their lives. In the midst of this disaster, they are raising their voices with the hope that the world will hear them.</p>
<p><br />As Mavi Marmara’s Gaza Representative Office, we continue our efforts to deliver urgent supplies to families affected by the floods.<br />Every contribution you make, according to your means, can help a family wake up with hope after a dark and difficult night.</p>
<p><strong>You can watch the full video at the link below.</strong></p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<div style="text-align: center; margin: 30px 0;"><a style="display: inline-block; background: #215187; color: #ffffff; text-decoration: none; padding: 14px 28px; border-radius: 8px; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;" href="https://www.instagram.com/reel/DRMzKSAiMKi/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> ▶ Watch the Full Video on Instagram </a></div>

<p>The first moment I encountered Palestinians in Egypt who had been forced to flee Gaza, I felt a heaviness inside me. This feeling was not only about the devastation caused by war; it was a much deeper, much more human sense of being trapped. From what they told me, from their eyes and their silences, I saw something clearly: These people were not only victims of war; they had also been made invisible in the place where they had sought refuge.</p>
<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/7/5500.jpeg" alt="5500.jpeg" /></p>
<p>A large number of Palestinians who crossed from Gaza into Egypt could not obtain residency permits, had no right to work, and could not even obtain visas to travel to another country. In other words, even though they had escaped the place they fled from, they were living in another open-air prison. The cruelty of war was already unbearable; but what was even more painful was the indifference they encountered in the country where they sought refuge. As I walked through neighborhoods and communities in Egypt, what affected me most was how normalized this indifference had become. In one neighborhood, I saw people struggling with hunger and uncertainty, while just a few streets away, people living in luxury buildings continued their lives without the slightest concern. Poverty and deprivation were at their lowest point, while wealth was at its extreme, and there seemed to be no bridge of conscience between these two extremes. This is exactly why I described the Egyptian people as “indifferent.” In addition, one of the strongest impressions I had of the Egyptian people was a sense of purposelessness and meaninglessness. I could not see a strong stance rooted in their own identity, culture, or cause. In many of the homes I entered, I expected to see something distinctly Egyptian, but instead I encountered Christmas and New Year decorations. There was a sense of admiration for the West, of imitating it, almost as if trying to please those who were more powerful. It gave me the impression of a life that had been emptied of its meaning, a life that no longer knew where it belonged.</p>
<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/7/image5-900x600.jpg" alt="image5-900x600.jpg" /></p>
<p>The Palestinians who came from Gaza, however, were the exact opposite. Despite everything, they had managed to remain true to themselves; they were a people with purpose and hope. In every home we entered, there were maps of Palestine, Palestinian-themed objects, and decorations on the walls. These people did not hide who they were; on the contrary, they proclaimed their identity in every corner. It was a quiet yet powerful consciousness. They carried themselves with dignity and had a clear sense of identity.</p>
<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/7/cairo_gazawi_2024-3.jpg" alt="cairo_gazawi_2024-3.jpg" /></p>
<p>Most of the homes were occupied by women because their husbands had either been killed in the war or had been forced to remain in Gaza. Despite this, these women were searching for ways to hold on to life. They were trying to make a living through their own work, making keychains and knitted bags. In one home, there was a woman who had lost both of her legs; despite this, there was hope on her face, and she was smiling. In another home, there was another woman who had lost loved ones… But once again, the same thing: a desire to live, resilience, and hope. Another thing I noticed while distributing aid was the pride of the Palestinians. Despite their immense needs, there was even a sense of dignity in accepting assistance. The men in particular carried a dignity that I will never forget for the rest of my life. I knew they would struggle without that assistance; but if they were not truly in need, they would not accept it simply because of their pride. One of the moments I will never forget was meeting an elderly woman. She had lost her eyesight as a result of the bombings and had difficulty walking. I approached her and greeted her; she heard me but could not see me. She was standing there, waiting for someone to come and take her away… The smile on her face was still there despite everything she had endured. She smiled toward the direction of the voice she heard. At that moment, I did not know what to do; I simply watched. That smile was engraved in my mind. After witnessing all of this, I looked at my own life. I thought about my own troubles and realized something: The things I considered “problems” were actually so small. I understood how much we, as people of faith living in relative prosperity, should be grateful. But when I returned home, I was confronted with another sense of absence: In my own home, there was almost nothing reminding me of my own land, my cause, or my struggle. Yet in the home of a Palestinian from Gaza, even the smallest corner carried a trace of their homeland. Palestinians in Egypt are living amid confinement and uncertainty; yet despite all of this, they remain hopeful. With patience and dignity, they wait for a helping hand to reach them. Although there are no clear official figures, it is known that the number of Palestinians who have crossed from Gaza into Egypt is in the tens of thousands. Most are living under temporary status, without security or certainty, trying to build a life.</p>
<p>So, what can concretely be done? It is not enough simply to feel sorry for these people. Their voices need to be amplified internationally, pressure needs to be applied for permanent residency and the right to work, and they need not only temporary aid but also sustainable means of livelihood. Unless opportunities are created for education, psychological support, and economic activity, this sense of confinement will continue. The reason I am writing this is not simply to describe what I witnessed. It is also to ask myself and everyone reading this a question: How deeply are we confronting our own identity, our cause, and our humanity?</p>
<p>In this story stretching from Gaza to Egypt, the thing I witnessed most was this: People who had lost everything had not lost their dignity. And perhaps this is exactly where true hope remained.</p>
<p> </p>

<p><iframe src="//www.youtube.com/embed/lzybArhWdLY" width="560" height="314" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe></p>
<p>They Are Waiting for Us</p>
<p>❝ My life was turned upside down in an instant… After I was injured, I can no longer work or provide for my family. I have a permanent disability in my leg, and shrapnel fragments remain in my back and spine. Every movement causes pain, but I continue to be patient… ❞</p>
<p>Life in Gaza is already extremely difficult, but for injured and dependent people, the conditions are even harsher. Families who struggle for days just to find water and food are trying to hold on to life in places that are incredibly difficult to live in. Especially with winter approaching… the cold makes their wounds and desperation even more painful.</p>
<p>❝ When my brother was killed, our world came crashing down. He used to take care of us… Now we are struggling both with his absence and with the difficulty of making ends meet. I have to carry two large containers on my back just to bring water by myself. Life has never returned to what it was… ❞</p>
<p>These people need more than just bread, water, or a blanket… They need a helping hand to reach them so they can breathe again. Hoping that their suffering will be heard and seen, they are calling for help.</p>
<p>As Mavi Marmara’s Gaza Representative Office, we continue our efforts to deliver urgent support to families and those who have been injured and are struggling in difficult conditions. Every contribution you make, according to your means, can help a family see hope once again through the darkness.</p>
<p> </p>

<p style="text-align: left;"><strong><br /></strong><iframe title="📽️ They Are Waiting for Us 🕊️" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/bufCjUfRRTY" width="680" height="1209" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><br /><br /><strong>They Are Waiting for Us!</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">❝ This was my home… I was only able to live here for two months. I bought it one month before the war. Unfortunately, I barely had the chance to enjoy it. I invested all my hard work, my savings, and the fruits of a lifetime of labor into this place. I wanted to build a happy life here with my children. But as you can see, it was bombed and suffered severe damage. ❞<br /><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">In Gaza, families whose homes have been damaged are forced to live among crumbling and destroyed walls, even when it is dangerous. Because the tents outside are no longer a shelter from the cold and rain. Nothing remains inside the home; no blankets, no mattresses… Everything is gone.<br /><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/5/bizi-bekliyorlar-v3-web.jpg" alt="bizi-bekliyorlar-v3-web.jpg" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> </p>
<p>❝ My entire childhood has been spent amid destruction, displacement, bombardment, and hunger. Of course, I have the right to live just like children elsewhere in the world. Why are they luckier than me? We are calling out to benefactors and to the whole world. See us, reach us, help us in any way you can. ❞</p>
<p>These people need more than just a roof over their heads… They need support, even if it is only enough to protect themselves. They are calling out with hope that the world will hear them.</p>
<p><br />As Mavi Marmara’s Gaza Representative Office, we continue our efforts to deliver urgent aid to families whose homes have been destroyed and who have nowhere left to shelter.<br />Every contribution you make, according to your means, can help a family find hope once again.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> </p>

<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Hanzala Intervention: The Forced Stopping of a Civilian Initiative in International Waters.</strong></p>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>In 2025, the Hanzala, a vessel of the Freedom Flotilla, was subjected to sabotage and an Israeli intervention in international waters while carrying humanitarian aid from Italy to Gaza. Activists from 12 countries were detained and subjected to violence. Although the unlawful intervention sought to suppress solidarity, global support continues to grow.</strong></div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto">In 2025, the Hanzala set sail from Italy toward Gaza as part of a civilian humanitarian aid initiative organized by the Freedom Flotilla Coalition. The vessel’s primary objective was to challenge the ongoing blockade of the Gaza Strip by sea and deliver humanitarian aid to the region. As part of this mission, 21 volunteer activists, journalists, healthcare workers, and human rights defenders from 12 different countries joined the voyage. Hanzala carried not only humanitarian supplies but also became a symbol of global solidarity, civil resistance, and the call for adherence to international law. The supplies on board included baby formula, diapers, medicine, and basic food items. Participants included Christian Smalls, founder of the Amazon Workers Union; human rights lawyer Huwaida Arraf; Jewish-American anti-war activists; members of the European Parliament; and Al Jazeera correspondents Mohamed El Bakkali and Waad Al Musa.</div>
<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/4/ekran-goruntusu-2025-09-29-152002.png" alt="447465625716.jpg1.jpg" /></div>
<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Sabotage Attempts Before the Voyage</strong> Before beginning its journey, the Hanzala faced two separate sabotage attempts. Technical inspections revealed ropes deliberately entangled around the vessel’s propeller. Had this been overlooked and the engine started, the ship’s propulsion system would likely have suffered serious damage, potentially leaving the vessel unable to move. The second sabotage attempt targeted the water supplied to the vessel. Analysis revealed that sulfuric acid had been mixed into the water tank. Had this gone unnoticed, both the crew and volunteers could have suffered severe chemical burns and potentially life-threatening consequences. These attempts were considered attacks aimed not only at stopping a vessel but also at obstructing global solidarity and the delivery of humanitarian aid to the Palestinian people.</div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Intervention in International Waters</strong> Despite all the attempts to prevent its journey, the Hanzala continued on its course and was stopped by the Israeli military in international waters on July 27, 2025, where the vessel was boarded. At the time of the intervention, there were no weapons, military personnel, or illegal elements on board. Nevertheless, all passengers were detained, the camera systems were shut down, and communication with the outside world was cut off. This was the third military intervention by Israel against a Freedom Flotilla mission in 2025. Earlier, in May, four people were injured in an attack on the aid vessel Vicdan in European waters, while in June, another vessel, Madleen, was intercepted and its crew detained. The failure of the international community to adequately address this chain of interventions reveals the vulnerability of international law in the face of political power.</div>
<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"> </div>
<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Legal Dimension and Human Rights Violations</strong> Under international maritime law, a state does not have the authority to intervene against civilian vessels sailing outside its territorial waters when they do not pose a threat. In particular, when such vessels are carrying only humanitarian aid and operating for peaceful purposes, there is no legitimate basis for such an intervention. In this context, the operation carried out against the Hanzala cannot in any way be considered legitimate or defensible under international law and fundamental human rights principles. The intervention constitutes serious legal and ethical violations and has caused deep concern in the conscience of the international community.</div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto">The Freedom Flotilla Coalition called for the immediate release of the detained activists and journalists. Coalition representative Ann Wright stated that the treatment of those detained was “arbitrary, unlawful, and contrary to international law.” The unjust violence suffered by Christian Smalls was particularly striking. Smalls was reportedly pinned to the ground by security forces, kicked, and subjected to severe physical violence. Visible marks were said to have appeared on the activist’s neck and back. Furthermore, the fact that six police officers surrounded Smalls while he was meeting with his lawyer points not only to an individual violation of rights but also to systematic pressure on the right to legal defense. Such practices are contrary to fundamental human rights and international legal norms. The treatment Smalls experienced was not merely an individual attack; it reflected a broader policy of suppression.</div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Hanzala’s Limited Visibility: A Comparison with the Madleen and Vicdan Experiences</strong> Although the Hanzala initiative was a symbol of humanitarian aid, it did not receive as much public attention as the Madleen. This situation, similar to the earlier experience of the Vicdan, raises questions about the differing visibility of civilian initiatives. There are several reasons for this: Lack of Media Appeal: The Madleen carried well-known politicians and activists and was supported by strong social media campaigns, which attracted greater attention from the international press. Although Hanzala also had prominent participants, this support did not generate the same level of global media interest. Overlapping Agendas: The intervention coincided with other regional crises that were occupying significant attention in the global public sphere, limiting its impact on the international agenda.</div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Strategic Communication Amid a Crowded Global Agenda: </strong>The communication and campaign activities carried out before and during the Hanzala initiative generated more limited visibility compared with the Madleen case. In particular, social media mobilization and the use of symbolic messaging remained relatively weak. This was largely connected to the conflict between Israel and Iran occupying the global agenda. Similarity to the Vicdan: Despite being a high-risk initiative, the Vicdan received limited media visibility. One of the main reasons was the adoption of a low-profile communication strategy after departing from the Tunisian port, with visibility postponed until after its departure from Malta. Just one day before mobilization was due to begin, the vessel was scheduled to dock at the Port of Malta to receive activists when the Israeli drone attack took place. Therefore, although Hanzala’s humanitarian mission and its exposure to an unlawful intervention were highly significant, the reasons it failed to become a major part of the public agenda demonstrate how communication strategies, the participation of global actors, and international media attention can be decisive.</div>
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<div class="message spoilers-container" dir="auto"><strong>Conclusion</strong> The intervention against the Hanzala was not merely an attempt to obstruct humanitarian aid to the Palestinian people; it also represented an effort to suppress international solidarity movements. Alongside the aid supplies carried by the vessel, its message of hope, solidarity, and commitment to human rights was also targeted. However, the intervention has not brought solidarity efforts to an end; on the contrary, it has contributed to making them more visible and widespread. Hanzala is not merely a vessel; it is a symbol of human dignity, borderless humanitarian responsibility, and peaceful resistance. These events have not deterred the Freedom Flotilla Coalition; rather, they have strengthened its determination to break the inhumane blockade of Gaza. This time, through the international Global Sumud Flotilla coalition, preparations continued for a September 2025 voyage into the Mediterranean, with the support of people from many different countries and 44 yachts, boats, and ships.</div>
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<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>

<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/3/somali3.jpg" alt="somali3.jpg" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>I had never imagined anything like this. Such profound deprivation. In my mind, I had always pictured dark-skinned, sunburnt children, dry brown earth, and houses made of branches. But they were only images in my imagination. The reality was something entirely different. These concrete images I had pictured actually carried countless emotions within them. The feeling of deprivation, for example. Could someone who had never known abundance truly understand deprivation? Perhaps what made life easier for them was that they had never known what it was like to have abundance.</p>
<p>Sometimes hungry, sometimes thirsty, sometimes without clothes, these people lived in a corner of the world. Unlike those of us who swim in abundance, they were surrounded by deprivation. After all, human beings adapt to every circumstance and somehow carry on with life. Yet everyone has the right to live with dignity. For people to live humanely, the feeling of kindness needed to be instilled in the hearts of those who possessed great wealth. Only then could everyone have the chance to live a life of dignity.</p>
<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/3/somali4.jpg" alt="somali4.jpg" /></p>
<p>And now, I am among these people who deserve to live with dignity but have been confronted with the cruelty of the world. I was there to do good, to touch their hearts. We had made this journey from thousands of kilometers away, without ever seeing or feeling them before, simply to deliver the entrusted gifts given to us in the spirit of kindness to the people they belonged to. What remained with me were beautiful moments I will never forget, and these photographs.</p>
<p>The sun was directly above us, my eyes slightly moist, as I watched the dark-skinned, sunburnt children from afar. These children, though dark-skinned, had faces that were radiant, contrary to what their appearance might suggest. Looking at them filled you with the joy of life. Yes, right at this very moment, realizing once again just how important the act of kindness is, I simply want to surrender myself to the feeling of being here. As the poet once said: those who do good will find good!</p>
<p><img src="https://mavimarmara.sistem.plus/public/story/0/3/somali5.jpg" alt="somali5.jpg" /></p>
<p>Ekrem Kubilay Karadeniz - Somalia, 2024</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>