Shahd Abusalama writes from Gaza as recently released prisoners arrive in Gaza:
The most emotional part of this swap deal is the deported prisoners. They have long-waited to be free again to return to the bosom of their families, but Israel has instead deported them to other places where they have to wait for even longer to wrap their beloved ones with their arms again. The freedom of these deported released prisoners is not freedom, it’s better to describe it as freedom to submit to Israeli rules.
Early in the evening, my parents went to a celebration held in the neighborhood for some released detainees. I was sitting alone when suddenly my phone rang. It was my mother. I could hardly hear her because of celebrations that were going around her. “You should come and see how people are dancing with joy and singing for freedom,” she said. I got so excited that I could no longer stay home and I decided to join them immediately and see for myself the joyous atmosphere there.
I didn’t know the exact address of the festival but I didn’t worry about it as I was certain that the resonance of the songs of freedom would guide my steps. The lights along with the Palestinian flags of all sizes were everywhere decorating the dark-blue sky. The walls were dressed with the photos of our heroes who sacrificed their precious years for the sake of freedom for their people. The region was filled with people coming from different parts of the Gaza Strip to share with the released detainees the happiness of their freedom. The festival included folk dancing performances, songs for free Palestine and poetry dedicated to those who were free and to those who are still suffering behind Israeli bars.
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Rawda Odeh carries a photograph of her son Loai
Very close to the end of the festival which lasted for several hours, my father called me and mum to introduce us to his friends. A woman with a beautiful Palestinian traditional dress lined with threads of the colors of the Palestinian flag, white, red, black and green, was standing beside a blond man. “Rawda, Yacoub, here is my daughter, Shahd,” my father addressed them. Then the man, Yacoub, stepped forward, kissed my fore head and hugged me and left me surprising of his reaction wondering still who he was. Then Dad continued with a big smile on his face “This is my friend from Jerusalem who was imprisoned with me in Nafha prison for 15 years, and we were freed together in Ahmad Jibreel’s exchange deal. And this is his brother’s wife, Rawda, who was imprisoned for 5 years as well in the 70s.”
I then realized that they were here a day ago to come and see Loai, Rawda’s son, who was freed in this swap deal but deported to Gaza. She was hoping that she would hug her son, Loai, as soon as he is released and she had been waiting for ten years daydreaming about that day. Her son was sentenced to 28 years of imprisonment but thanks to this exchange deal of prisoners, he only spent ten years jailed. However, it was very disappointing for her to find out that he would be deported to Gaza forever and that he will not return back home. She challenged everything to have the opportunity to hug her son again tightly and for that she traveled with her husband’s brother from Jerusalem to Jordan and then to Egypt and then to Gaza through Rafah Border. It’s so ironic to know that she had to suffer two days of travelling to enter Gaza while if Israel allowed her to enter though Eriz border, it would take her less than two hours to reach Gaza.
Read the entire post here.

How is this freedom? Either way you look at it, either these people, or their families and their whole homeland, are prisoners!
When Jews were treated this way, it was recorded as one of the greatest crimes in human history. That Jews themselves would inflict this treatment on others is indescribably abhorrent. It’s a miracle there aren’t whole mass graves in Germany and Poland rolling over.
“It’s a miracle there aren’t whole mass graves in Germany and Poland rolling over.”
If they could, they probably would. They can not.
Instead ,we have hyenas ,who use the memory of those dead /murdered people, to fulfill their own sick desires and ambitions.