A Life Cut Short, A Legacy That Grows: Remembering Medo Halimy and the Peaceful Power of Gardening

Sometimes when I sit down to write my weekly newsletter, I am delayed because of work demands, and other times I am delayed because something has happened that holds me back from putting what I am seeing and feeling into words. This is the case for this recent article, which has taken me some time to digest.

As someone active in social media and urban farming, I am constantly inspired by others who grow in cities and try to make change through their actions, especially when they share their journey with the world. That’s why, when I heard the devastating news of TikTok and Instagram star Medo Halimy’s death in Gaza, it broke my heart. I first heard about it from my dear friend Christine R Gould , a leader in food innovation, and we both, along with many others, have been mourning the loss of this young man, bright soul, and guerilla urban farmer.

Medo Halimy was just 23 years old. At an age when most people are still finding their way in life, Medo had already become a beacon of hope for so many. He had garnered a large following online—over 200,000 followers on TikTok alone—by sharing his passion for gardening. But his content was more than just about plants; it was about life, survival, and hope in one of the most challenging environments on Earth. He became a symbol of resilience to thousands around the world. In Gaza, where resources are scarce and conflict is ever-present, his videos stood out as rare moments of beauty and peace, documenting the life he cultivated amid the destruction. His posts showed him caring for flowers, trees, and vegetables, often with the sounds of bombs or military jets in the background.

Medo’s life was a powerful reminder that, even in the most broken places, there is still space for joy. His garden was more than a collection of plants—it was a sanctuary of hope, a small but vital slice of peace in a world ravaged by violence. His work on social media wasn’t just an attempt to go viral; it was a mission to show the world that Gaza is more than just war and ruins. He wanted his followers to see the beauty that still exists there, despite everything.

“In Gaza, everything is fragile—homes, lives, futures. But in my garden, I get to be the one who decides what survives. I get to protect life.”

As Medo once said in one of his videos, “In Gaza, everything is fragile—homes, lives, futures. But in my garden, I get to be the one who decides what survives. I get to protect life.” His words speak to the deeper power of what he was doing. His garden wasn’t just about cultivating plants; it was about taking back control in a place where so much is out of one's hands. Gardening gave Medo a sense of agency, a way to build something lasting in a place where so much was being torn down.

In his interview with FAULT Magazine, Medo shared why he chose to focus on gardening amidst all the destruction: “I could have posted about the bombs, the destruction, the misery—but the world sees that all the time. I wanted to show people the other side of life in Gaza. I wanted to show the beauty that still exists, that we have to fight to preserve.” His mission was clear—he didn’t want Gaza to be seen only as a place of endless suffering. He wanted the world to know that even in the darkest corners of the world, there was light, and he dedicated his life to sharing that light with his audience.

His online presence wasn’t about self-promotion or gaining followers—it was about cultivating hope, one seed at a time. In a world where so much attention is placed on destruction, Medo shifted the narrative. He showed that gardening, in its quiet, deliberate way, could be a form of resistance. His following grew not just because people enjoyed watching his plants grow, but because he gave them something to believe in. In each plant he nurtured, Medo offered a reminder that life, even under the harshest circumstances, could flourish.

I previously wrote about the transformative role of gardens in conflict zones in my article, Seeds of Peace. In that piece, I discussed how gardens, even in the midst of violence, can offer stability, hope, and a sense of normalcy. Medo embodied everything I wrote about. His work was a living, breathing example of how something as simple as a garden can become a powerful symbol of peace. In his videos, we see that gardens are not just places for plants, but places where hope can take root, even in the most barren and war-torn lands.

The sheer loss of someone so full of life, so young, and with so much ahead of him feels unbearable. In times of conflict, it’s often easy to reduce the lives lost to numbers. But Medo was more than a statistic. He was a son, a friend, a community builder, and a symbol of what is possible even when all the odds are against you. His death from an airstrike wasn’t just the loss of one young man; it was the loss of a future he was actively building—one where peace and life would one day triumph over war and death. The garden he cultivated was an act of peace, an effort to show that even in the darkest moments, life finds a way to bloom. The senselessness of his death is a tragedy that weighs heavily on all of us who admired his work, and on those who will never have the chance to see what he could have done with more time.

“The bombs will fall, the buildings will crumble, but my plants will still grow. That is my way of surviving.”

The significance of gardening in conflict zones cannot be overstated. Gardens offer a sense of stability and normalcy when the world around is anything but. For Medo, his small plot of land was a space where he could practice mindfulness, patience, and hope. Each seed he planted was a symbol of his determination to keep living, keep growing, and keep believing in a future where peace might one day flourish. As Medo once poignantly said, “The bombs will fall, the buildings will crumble, but my plants will still grow. That is my way of surviving.” These words resonate now more than ever. They remind us that even when life is cut short, the seeds we plant will continue to grow.

His garden was not just a space for plants; it was a sanctuary of resilience, a place where Medo could practice peace in a world that refused to give it to him. His videos showed the realities of living in a warzone but also focused on the quiet beauty of nature. In one particularly moving video, as airstrikes raged in the distance, Medo calmly tended to his garden. “This is my weapon,” he said, holding a small watering can. “I can’t stop the bombs, but I can make sure something beautiful survives them.”

The loss of Medo is an unfathomable tragedy—not only to his family and community but to the world. His work was a reminder that even in the most hostile environments, we can still create, we can still nurture, and we can still hope. It is a loss that feels almost too heavy to comprehend. The death of someone so young, so vibrant, and so determined to make the world a little bit better shakes us to our core. But we owe it to Medo to carry forward what he started.

In one of his final interviews, Medo left us with a powerful sentiment: “No matter what happens to me, the flowers I planted will still bloom.” This simple yet profound statement now carries even more weight. Though Medo's life was tragically cut short, the seeds he planted—both literally and metaphorically—will continue to grow. His garden will live on, not just in Gaza but in the hearts and minds of those who were touched by his work. It is now up to us to continue his legacy, to keep planting seeds of peace in a world that desperately needs them.

Rest in peace, Medo Halimy. Your garden will continue to grow, and your message will live on in all of us who believe, as you did, in the power of life to triumph over destruction.

You can support Medo's legacy through this GoFundMe for his family