Manar, Daughter of Palestine

A Fashion Designer from Gaza

My name is Manar.

I am a daughter of Gaza, Palestine

a place that once held my childhood joy, and now holds an unending nightmare.

Before this genocide, my life was shaped by ordinary dreams and quiet hope.

I grew up in a large home that carried my entire life within its walls. That house was not just a building , it was memory itself. Every corner held a story, every room a moment of laughter, safety, and belonging. All our photographs lived there , our faces, our celebrations, our growing years.

Now that home is gone. Burned , Destroyed , Even our images did not survive. Everything that once proved we existed together became ash and memory.

A few days ago I remembered a childhood dream. I am very happy that I had the opportunity to think about dreaming, because for me, a dream is an inner voice telling me how I want to be and how I want to live. A dream is completely different from goals, because for me, goals are imposed on us and must be compatible with reality in order for us to adapt to the circumstances around us. As a child, I lived a happy childhood. I dreamed freely, I fell deeply in love with architecture, with the idea of building wonderful and beautiful spaces that could protect people, hold dignity, and preserve life.

But in Gaza, dreams are often reshaped by siege, By unemployment so widespread it erases hope.

My older brother, an architectural engineer, was my role model and the closest person to my heart. Despite his education and talent, he could not find work in his field. Watching his struggle, and hearing his honest advice, I stepped away from architecture. Not because I stopped loving it, but because survival demanded another choice.

I studied medical laboratory science, then added a year of education , I became a science teacher, holding two degrees, believing this path might offer stability in an unstable land.

Then the genocide began.

Since that moment, my life has stopped resembling anything familiar.

I became distant from my profession, from routine, from normal time.

My present feels like a continuous nightmare , one I live inside, fully awake.

I lost my older brother, the engineer, my guide, my companion, my sense of safety.

For two years now, we do not know his fate.

This uncertainty lives with me every day, heavy and unanswered.

I am also a mother of two daughters, trying to raise life in the middle of destruction. I carry fear silently while teaching them how to smile, I try to offer them warmth while everything around us collapses. I want them to remember love, not only loss. I want to give them a childhood that does not mirror my wounds.

In the heart of all this, art found me.

Art became my language when words failed , A place where I could empty my grief, my fear, and my memories without explanation. It gave me a quiet kind of hope , as if telling me that there might still be a future, more beautiful than the present I am surviving.

My faith did not remove my pain, but it made me feel seen. I believe that God sees me in every state, in my weakness, my patience, my exhaustion, and my effort.

Because I believe God sees me, I strive to become the best version of myself, not out of perfection, but out of sincerity , seeking to live in a way that pleases Him.

I hold onto art as both healing and resistance. Through it, my passion grew toward fashion design, a way to stitch memory, identity, and survival into something visible.

Today, I carry my homeland within me.

I carry my brother’s absence.

I carry my destroyed home and my interrupted life.

But I also carry faith, creativity, and determination ..... quiet strengths that refuse to disappear.

This is not only my story.

It is the story of countless Palestinians , whose lives were never allowed to unfold naturally.

Yet still, we continue ....creating, remembering, and insisting that our voices deserve space in this world.

I believe that God sees me every moment,

and in a humanity worth loving.

For that reason, I continue—

with faith, compassion, and hope for all.

Standing with Manar and her family means helping them protect their future. Please consider donating if you can: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-my-family-survive-and-evacuate-urgent

below are designs by Manar. Help her realise her dream of becoming a fashion designer by donating to her GoFundMe linked above.