We were very excited for this year’s Eid that my little brother and sister bought El-Eid clothes since the first week in Ramadan when the mad war was not there yet. They were waiting impatiently for Ramadan to end so they can wear their brand new clothes and celebrate the Eid. The war started the second week of Ramadan and since then their dreams of having a happy Eid started to fade away.
My little brother and sister did not stop asking questions. When is this going to end? Are we going to celebrate? Are we going to wear our new clothes? They kept asking till the Eid came and their questions were answered, answered with bombs and news of death everywhere.
In the first day of Eid, I woke up to the news that my mother’s cousin was killed. My mother rushed to my grandfather’s home unconsciously when she learned about her cousin’s death. We followed her minutes later. At the door, children related to Mohammed, the martyr, were sitting at the threshhold crying. The scene of those little children crying broke my heart. Those are supposed to be celebrating and enjoying the Eid by now, they are instead weeping over their beloved uncle. I went into the martyr’s home concurred with grief. His wife and sisters were there, shocked and full of sorrow. Everyone in the home was unable to believe what has just happened. They were unable to believe that Mohammed, who was always smiling, is now gone, forever.
I sat there thinking of the hundreds killed since the war started. What is happening now is happening, happened, and will happen in many places across Gaza. My thoughts were then interrupted by a loud noise outside; I went out to see what was going on. It was Mohammed, carried above the men’s shoulders. Everyone started chanting for the martyr “Rest in Peace, Mohammed. We will continue the struggle.” Everyone was chanting these words as we followed the martyr into his home. Mohammed laid there wrapped with a flag. Everyone he loved came to say the final goodbye and give him the farewell kiss.
Mohammed is married; he has two children, Malak and Ahmed. Malak is four years old and Ahmed is 3. They were the only ones not crying, they were unable to understand what was going on. Malak believed that her father is only asleep and that the men are taking him to his work and that he will come back soon. She didn’t know that he’s gone forever; she didn’t know that she will grow fatherless.
The Eid was unlike any other Eid we ever had. Grief was all around. Even when children tried to celebrate and forget about the airstrikes, Israel came after them and killed them while playing. Ten children were killed while playing on a mini Ferris wheel in the beach camp in the first day of Eid.
It seems that “self-defense” legalizes all the crimes Israel is committing in Gaza. It’s in the name of self-defense that Israel killed children playing on the beach, children playing on the roof of their house, children playing on a mini Ferris wheel.