Karam Saidam is a former Sealth High School exchange student from Gaza (seen here in at the mall in Tukwila in 2019). He and his family are facing a deeply uncertain future as the conflict there threatens their lives. A West Seattle family is trying to raise funds to help him come back to West Seattle and his family to move to Egypt and safety.
Update 3/18/34
The West Seattle family that hosted Palestinian exchange student Karam Saidam has some good news. Joslin Jane posted an update on the GoFundMe page set up for the purpose on Monday.
“Last week we were able to send funds to get Karam registered for travel into Egypt. I am happy to report that today his name was successfully registered to travel. We are hoping he will be approved within the next two weeks. Once he is in Egypt we will start transferring funds so he can assist his family getting into Egypt. Your donations will go so far in helping us get them to safety. Thank you for your generosity. We are overwhelmed with emotion today.”
Original Post 2/25/24
By Patrick Robinson
The military action being carried out in Gaza is tragic on many levels. But we seldom see the direct impact on families and in the United States. In Seattle, unless we have family there, we only hear what amount to headlines. W get to see short video reports showing the most dramatic footage. But for one West Seattle family it’s deeply personal.
Joslin, Kit and Carson Roth with Karam here in West Seattle.
The Roth family, Joslin, Kit and Carson hosted an exchange student named Karam Saidam here during the 2018-19 school year. He attended Chief Sealth HS as a grant student on a full scholarship through CIEE (Department of State) at age 15, turning 16 after he arrived.
Today he is 20 but his education and his family’s future are in serious peril.
The Roth family is hoping to bring Karam “home” to Seattle where he can continue his education and help his family make it to Egypt and safety, with family. They’ve set up a GoFundMe page to collect donations with a goal of $50,000. So far, it’s around $10,000. But it’s worth knowing the legal matters around this cost $5000 per person. So more is needed.
The person best qualified to tell this story however is Karam himself. On the GoFundMe page he explains what life has been like for his family. All of them in need of medical care and a safe place to stay.
Here in his own words is his story:
“You might know me from the time I spent in Seattle during my exchange year in 2019. I want to open up to you about what’s been happening here in Gaza. It’s been a whirlwind of emotions, and I think sharing our story might help shed some light on what life is like for families like mine amidst this conflict.
Karam in 2016 with his Father Ayman Saidam and Mother Hazar Jaber.
Let me paint you a picture of our family: there’s my parents, strong and resilient despite everything they’ve been through. They’ve always been our rock, but now they’re navigating a world where safety feels like a luxury. My sisters, Zaina and Judi, are 14 and 13 years old, respectively. They are stuck in this limbo between childhood and fear. They should be worrying about school and friends, not airstrikes and whether we’ll have enough food to last us through the day.
And then there are my little twin siblings, Omar and Kenzi. They are 4 years old. Omar’s usually full of energy, but these days he’s restless. He can’t sleep with the constant sound of explosions in the distance. And Kenzi, she’s my little warrior. Born with health challenges, she’s faced more than her fair share of struggles. She had many surgeries through the years, including an open-heart surgery. She has difficulties talking and moving. She is already 4 years old and can’t crawl yet.
Kenzi and I recently had a severe sickness that we suspect is COVID-19. It has been very hard for us to recover because of the failing healthcare system and the scarcity of medicine. We have been sick for months and Kenzi isn’t showing any signs of recovery. She needs constant care — care that’s hard to come by in a place where even basic necessities are scarce.
I was a Junior at University when everything here changed. I now have no proof of my credit hours or my scripts. My University has been destroyed by the bombing, and I don’t know when I would be able to go back to school here in Gaza. I don’t mind starting over — at all — if I can just get somewhere safe to continue my education.
In the first days of the conflict, we were trying to remain safe in our home where we had solar power and stored water. Our home was in Al Zahra, miles south of Gaza City but just a little north of Israel’s first evacuation boundary line. There was an elementary school and a high school across the street from our home, where more than 1,000 refugees from the north had gathered.
Air strikes near their home forced them to leave.
As the conflict intensified, several airstrikes in our neighborhood forced us to heed the evacuation warnings and flee for the first time to Rafah. But the situation in Rafah was bleak even then. Food, water, and shelter were beyond scarce, and we were essentially trying to survive on the side of the road.
After several days without any resources, we made the hard decision to return to our home, which, at the time, was still standing. We weren’t home long. The airstrikes in our neighborhood came ever closer, some mere yards away from our house. So we fled again, this time to an aunt’s house in Nusierat camp. We were there a few days, but heavy shelling in that region displaced us again. We had to leave our home in a hurry, with nothing but the clothes on our backs. It was chaos — a blur of sirens and shouts, of fear and desperation. We ended up back in Rafah, far from the life we once knew, just trying to make it through each day in one piece.
This time, we were able to shelter with my grandmother, just southeast of central Rafah, and north of the Rafah border crossing. But the airstrikes and bombing has continued to intensify. In early November, severe bombing near us caused significant damage to the building we were sheltering in. Parts of the roof caved in, exposing us to the colder, rainier weather that had developed.
Life here is hard. We’re always on edge, never knowing when the next bomb will drop or if we’ll have enough food to feed everyone. We have no running water or fuel. We cook over fire and are now completely dependent on what little comes into Gaza from the relief aid efforts. My mom, bless her heart, has celiac disease, and high blood pressure. Finding gluten-free flour for her has been essentially impossible. Grandma, too, has her own battles to face. She has high blood pressure and diabetes. She’s broken, physically and emotionally, her pain palpable in every movement she makes. And yet, she soldiers on, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. My mom and I have worked with the Catholic Relief Services to help provide aid. Some days serving 800 families with aid access.
Our days and nights are surrounded by constant sound. The incessant buzz of quad copters, automatic fire, severe bombings, fighter jets, and the sounds of people searching for food and building shelters fill our days and nights. Most recently, the neighborhood we are in was the target of a massive airstrike on the night of Feb 11.
Over the last 4 months, we have lost cousins, my aunt, and many friends to the bombings, illnesses, and lack of medical care and resources. And we have witnessed horrors no one should ever be forced to endure.
My family and I were supposed to be evacuated in early January, but those plans feel through and that resource is no longer viable. Over the last 45 days, we all fell ill with what we suspect was COVID 19. There was no medial care or medicine to be found, and we all struggled with the illness for many weeks. In early Feb I was able to access medical care, received medication for my family and me. Some of us are doing better, but Kenzi is not.
Through it all, we’re holding onto hope. We’re trying to raise enough money to get to Egypt, where there’s safety, friends-of-friends who are ready and eager to help us survive, and a chance at a better life. We’re clinging to that dream with everything we’ve got.
If you’re reading this, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to listen to our story, to see the faces behind the headlines. We could really use your help right now. Even a small donation could make a world of difference for my family. So, if you can spare anything, please consider helping us out.
Karam’s youngest sister Kenzi is developmentally disabled. At age four she can only crawl.
Karam explained further about his ties to this area.
“West Seattle to me is home, and home is where you feel safe and loved. I’ve been very fortunate to be placed in West Seattle during my exchange year, I’ve made many friends that I can rely on and truly call family. I long for and belong to West Seattle.”
Today in Gaza more than 50% of the population are unemployed. Hospitals have consistently been out of up to 40% of needed supplies and medicine. Approximately 96% of water in Gaza is undrinkable. Electricity is only available sporadically. And an invasion of Rafah is set to begin soon.
A special Facebook page has been created where you can offer personal messages of support for Karam and his family here.
