Mohammad Ahmad, in front of the rubble of his three-story home demolished by an Israeli airstrike during the Israeli latest large-scale offensive, Beit Hanoun, North Gaza. The home hosted 6 families and around 40 Palestinians, half of them children. (Photo: Anne Paq/Activestills)
It was around 4:00 pm, 14th of November. We were out, My sister and I, and Israel started its damn war. We were in a party to celebrate our friend’s first poetry book. What happened forced us all to go home! My little sister started to cry but still strong said: “damn Israel, only in Gaza our happy moments are always incomplete!”
On the 15th of November, around 2:00 am, my mum, my 2 sisters, my months-old niece and I were sleeping in one room, huddled together when the Israeli airplanes attacked a land next to our house. We all woke up crying and could not even calm my niece down, she kept crying for two hours. Children here know fear and sacrifice too early!
Before this attack on Gaza, my 2 brothers were in another town in the south of Gaza. The Israeli army was bombing indiscriminately, so they could not come back. No one can imagine how the one feels when the family is divided into many parts in such a situation. Your heart does not know where to go and about who exactly it should worry? No one knows what it means to think that you might die before meeting your separated family!
My little cousin (4 years) was talking to himself when he watched what happened to Al Dalou family, which was a real massacre where many kids were found killed under rubble, “They seem like my age, hmm Israel this time is targeting us, kids, I am a target to Israel. They can kill me anytime, gonna kiss daddy before they do”
I really fail to understand what kind of crimes have these children committed ? Israel, for sure, will be happy and satisfied now, they all will sleep well tonight. The children who are seen as a threat to its security are killed now!
My five-year-old cousin asked me, “Hana, are these airplanes higher than clouds?”
I replied in the affirmative.
He asked me with curiosity, “So, they can see whatever we do?”
“Hmm.. not always,” I replied.
“And where is Allah?” he asked.
“High! Above, my dear.”
He: “In this sky we see, near the warplanes ?”
“No honey, above seven skies,” I said.
He: “So, we should not worry! Allah sees us and sees these planes. He knows the good people, the owners of this land and he will never leave us in pain!”
On the 18th of November, Israel attacked more than 60 offices for journalists and local and international agencies. Many journalists were severely injured and I asked my sister (11years old) who wants to be a journalist in future — You still want to become a journalist, Fatima? They may kill you in a war like this.
She replied: “I wish I were big enough in these days to go and participate in showing the truth to the world ! What happened to them made me insist on being so!
In the last war on Gaza (2008), I lost a dear friend and I do not want this to happen again in this war.
How can one write loss? World seems to have forgotten that loss can be beyond mere numbers and statistics!