Fighting to Live and Learn: Diana’s Story
Diana Has Diabetes. Her University in Gaza Was Bombed. She’s Still Becoming a Nutritionist.
My name is Diana. I’m 22 years old. I am a Palestine refugee student in Gaza living with Type 1 Diabetes. And I won’t let a genocide stop me from graduating.
Graduating is a dream I fought to keep alive even after my university was bombed and destroyed during the “war.” Thanks to UNRWA USA and its university scholarship, my dream is coming true. I am now just two credit hours—and a few months—away from graduating with a bachelor's degree in Healthy Nutrition from the University of Palestine.
Through displacement, devastation, and unimaginable obstacles, I refused to give up on my education — because for me, education is not just personal, it’s a path to hope, dignity, and rebuilding my community.
Education in Gaza isn’t just about a degree. It’s an act of hope, resistance, and rebuilding our future.
My father passed away during the difficult years of the COVID-19 pandemic. Losing him meant not only personal grief but also greater responsibility. As the eldest child, I felt the weight of helping my family move forward.
Life here in Gaza teaches you resilience very quickly — how to move forward when war, occupation, poverty, and personal loss try to push you back every day. Electricity cuts, food shortages, lack of access to clean water, and constant danger became part of daily life. But so did strength and hope.
Living with Type 1 Diabetes since I was 12 shaped who I am. Managing my condition in Gaza — where healthcare is fragile, medications are limited, and nutritious food is often out of reach — showed me firsthand how deeply health is tied to justice.
Among Palestine refugees, diabetes is tragically common, not because of personal choices, but because of the conditions created by decades of displacement and blockade: limited access to healthy food, unsafe living conditions, poverty, and relentless stress.
In Gaza, a disease like diabetes is not simply a health issue — it’s a mirror of systemic injustice.
“Healthcare should be a right, not a luxury — but here, survival itself feels like a privilege.”
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to study nutrition not just to manage my own health, but to fight for my community’s right to well-being. In Gaza today, where rates of diabetes, malnutrition, and chronic illness are rising, the need for qualified nutritionists has never been greater.
Late in 2023, when my university was destroyed by an Israeli military airstrike, it felt like everything I had worked for was collapsing. My graduation cap, my gown, my dreams — all of it felt buried under rubble for good.
With my mother’s encouragement, I found a way to continue my studies online through a university in the West Bank. It wasn’t easy — as the Israeli government shut down our electricity and internet, almost impossible to find, and I often traveled long distances, climbing on roofs just to find enough signal to submit homework or take exams. Even now, as I complete my field training, I am balancing my final studies with the daily realities of life under siege.
None of this would have been possible without the scholarship I received from UNRWA USA.
I first heard about the scholarship through a friend. Until then, I didn’t realize that UNRWA USA supported university students like me — I thought their support was only for schoolchildren through UNRWA. When I found out I had been selected, it felt like a light in the darkest moment of my life. I hugged my mother and cried. We had no idea how we were going to afford another year of tuition, and now, the door to my future had opened again. This is not just tuition, it's a lifeline not just for me but for all my family.
The UNRWA USA scholarship didn’t just cover my tuition fees. It helped me afford transportation, field training expenses, books, my graduation project materials, and even my medical supplies which I depend on daily to manage my diabetes. Without it, I would have been forced to stop my education. I would not be preparing to graduate. I would not be preparing to give back to my community.
UNRWA has been a lifeline throughout my life in Gaza. Like many Palestinians in Gaza, UNRWA’s health clinics provide my monthly medication, including the insulin and blood glucose test strips that I need to survive. The UNRWA doctors and staff there know me by name; they don’t just treat me as a patient, but as a whole person. They are invested in my future.
Even during the war, when Gaza’s borders were sealed and medical supplies became almost impossible to find, UNRWA found a way to keep providing life-saving medication to people like me.
“At UNRWA clinics, I’m not just treated like a patient. I’m treated like family.”
When the war escalated, my family was displaced. We lived for weeks in a tent under horrific conditions — unbearable heat during the day, freezing temperatures at night, no privacy, no sanitation. During that time, I had no way to check my blood sugar. I went to sleep each night not knowing if my blood sugar was dangerously high or low. On top of all the dangers everyone in Gaza has already been living in, this was terrifying.
Moving back to our partially destroyed home felt like a blessing, even with all the damage. At least we had walls again.
Through it all, my education has been the thread pulling me forward.
Today, as I approach graduation, my dreams are not just about survival. I dream of using my degree to combat malnutrition in Gaza, to support mothers and children, to educate about chronic illnesses like diabetes, and to advocate for healthcare as a human right — not a privilege.
One day, I hope to pursue a master’s degree in Public Health and help create sustainable healthcare solutions for communities like mine. No child, no parent, should ever have to suffer because healthcare was taken away by systems of violence.
“I believe that with knowledge, compassion, and opportunity, we can rebuild not just our homes, but our futures.”
When you donate to UNRWA USA’s University Scholarship Fund, you’re not just helping one refugee student like me — you're investing in every life that a student will go on to touch. It’s a legacy. A continuous gift.
Your support doesn't just change one refugee student’s life — it changes every life we will touch through our work.
Education doesn’t stop with a diploma. It ripples outward — into hospitals, into homes, into futures.
Your scholarship gift helps Palestine refugee students rise beyond the rubble — and through us, it rebuilds an entire generation’s hope. That’s a legacy. And that’s how you put young people and their families on a path out of poverty.
Every donation, big or small, opens a door to a brighter future.
Give today to fund university tuition for 44 brilliant Palestine refugee students in Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria!