Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Chronicles of My Gaza Family


Being from Gaza these days is a burden. Everyone who knows me is asking about my family. And all I can answer is how they were 4 days ago, when I could reach them last. They have no electricity now, and I can only hope they are alright.

I can tell you how they were when I last checked on them.

My cousin Rabah's house was hit directly by an Israeli strike. This is tragic irony. Rabah opposes Hamas deeply. But missiles do not care about such things.

His brother Yehia, also a critic of Hamas, is a local journalist. His office was hit.

My sister Niveen and my Uncles Ahmad, Ala'a, Kamal have all relocated to my parents' house.

My uncle Ala'a is especially worried. He is wheelchair-bound and walking up and down the rubble is simply not an option for him.

My family's neighborhood includes a mosque. It was one of the 70 hit by Israel. My family's five-story home suffered substantial damage, but even worse, seventeen worshipers lost their lives as they were praying.

Until three days ago, Beit Lahia, our town, had been relatively safe. Abu Mazin, my father, is probably not surprised by the worsening situation. He often said, "the past is the good part. At least we know how painful it was. The future is the scary because it always gets worse for us Palestinians."

My mother asked me two things. The first is to pray for them, and the second is to forgive them if they have done me wrong, a routine gesture for Muslims facing death. She told me that going to sleep without knowing if she is going to wake up or not is not something she wishes upon anyone, even the pilot of the plane who may launch the fatal missile.

She uttered an Arabic proverb that basically says, "dying along with the people you love eases the suffering." It was not comforting to say the least.

Mazin was in a bad mood, an unusual state for my eldest brother. As he sat in the street watching Israeli bombs shower the area, he pondered how they really have no place to go. Mazin smoked his hookah like it would be his last.

Not everyone was gloomy. Mahmoud, my younger brother and the prankster in the family teases his newlywed friend. Their honeymoon will be short-lived, he told me, interrupted by Barak, Livni and Olmert.

Last time I visited Gaza was in 2005. Things were bad then, and they are only worse now. I cannot recall a scarier time than this for my home. I read this morning that Israel killed over 46 Palestinians seeking refuge at a school in my town. My father is a teacher there. Until I find out who was among the casualties, I will hold on to what I heard 4 days ago.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hani, I don't know what to say to confert you, the only thing I know you are very strong man and you are conferting yourself by talking and leting people know what is going on with your family, and you always think positive, don't loose hope pray like usual and I will pray too so everything will come to an end and your family will be OK.

Anonymous said...

"Pray for them and forgive them", your Mother is one hundred percent right, she is given you a good advise and I hope you will remember it always and your wounds will be healed, that is what I always say.

 

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