Video link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDD8ANFgwtA
...this was the day the israeli occupation forces shot at us in the Khuzaa' area... that same day the IOF shot a farmer in her leg later in the afternoon... she was beside her house which is in close proximity to the borders... the IOF has no reason to shoot at unarmed civilians and human rights observers... in the area we are in, we announce on the megaphone that we are unarmed civilians that we are present to accompany the farmers so that they can do their work for the day, a day ahead we announce that we shall be present on the ISM website and we publish press releases... the farmers' only income entirely depends on their harvesting the crops... the farmers pose no threat to the "security" of the Zionist state...yet they get shot everytime
Natalie
Pictures taken by the bloggers in Gaza
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Burning Gaza's Goods
Almost one hundred and fifty containers of goods belong to Gaza private sector merchants stored in Kerem Shalome Israeli crossing near Rafah in waiting for their turn to be allowed entry into Gaza have been burnt tonight! It is beleived that burning is a deliberate act! It has been mentioned in the local news!
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Gaza is phoenix in burning flame
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Gaza is phoenix in burning flame
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Natalie Abou Shakra: At the border, again
Tuesday, morning of February 24, 2009
...We were in Khozaa', in the eastern area of Gaza, around 100m away from the borders... it was about 8:30a.m when we got there driving from Gaza city... as we entered the fields of crop-peas, and wheat mainly, and wholly destroyed too because of the two months deprivation of care- the jeeps, with their headlights on were standing still... the moment we went in, me and three fellow comrades at the front line... all of a sudden, two shots fire past our heads, and one i see less than 1m away from my foot, where the sand on the ground jumped, as a result of the bullet going through it... the firing continued... most of the farmers were women, a few men were around... the men said that they had been coming down daily for a couple of days now, with the jeeps not aiming for them, but today they were afraid that they were 'playing' with 'us', the activists...
A fellow comrade of mine had been shot before, i haven't... she said that her body shakes every time they would shoot, but it is not fear and that she was told once that soldiers who got shot, are usually less affective... their body's memory blocking their activity... i haven't been shot... yet... but, this time, in particular, i felt a wave of frozen fear sweep my body... it is the kind that just freezes you, and then... as it melts through your body, a wave of heat sweeps it away, and all you feel is utter anger...
Another comrade fell to the earth... he told me that he felt as if he was slapped in the face, and after gaining consciousness of the world around him again, he learnt it was a bullet... he told me later as we walked towards the road, trying to find a car to take us back to the city, that he couldn't believe he was alive... every time we leave for an action as such, in the accompaniment of farmers, i consider the possibility of death, or injury... but, i deeply hope inside of me, that i never get injured losing a part of my body, but that death would be my fate...
In the car, going back to Gaza, as we sat atop one another, a comrade noticed the anchor necklace around my neck... as she asked about it, I told her that i had been wearing it since I was sixteen... when she asked who gave it to me, I smiled... I remembered the person who gave it to me... it was after they noticed that this was the life I chose... so, they gave me an anchor... and by sea, I came to Gaza... how many seas ans storms shall I defy, shall I cross... I wonder...
Love, N
...We were in Khozaa', in the eastern area of Gaza, around 100m away from the borders... it was about 8:30a.m when we got there driving from Gaza city... as we entered the fields of crop-peas, and wheat mainly, and wholly destroyed too because of the two months deprivation of care- the jeeps, with their headlights on were standing still... the moment we went in, me and three fellow comrades at the front line... all of a sudden, two shots fire past our heads, and one i see less than 1m away from my foot, where the sand on the ground jumped, as a result of the bullet going through it... the firing continued... most of the farmers were women, a few men were around... the men said that they had been coming down daily for a couple of days now, with the jeeps not aiming for them, but today they were afraid that they were 'playing' with 'us', the activists...
A fellow comrade of mine had been shot before, i haven't... she said that her body shakes every time they would shoot, but it is not fear and that she was told once that soldiers who got shot, are usually less affective... their body's memory blocking their activity... i haven't been shot... yet... but, this time, in particular, i felt a wave of frozen fear sweep my body... it is the kind that just freezes you, and then... as it melts through your body, a wave of heat sweeps it away, and all you feel is utter anger...
Another comrade fell to the earth... he told me that he felt as if he was slapped in the face, and after gaining consciousness of the world around him again, he learnt it was a bullet... he told me later as we walked towards the road, trying to find a car to take us back to the city, that he couldn't believe he was alive... every time we leave for an action as such, in the accompaniment of farmers, i consider the possibility of death, or injury... but, i deeply hope inside of me, that i never get injured losing a part of my body, but that death would be my fate...
In the car, going back to Gaza, as we sat atop one another, a comrade noticed the anchor necklace around my neck... as she asked about it, I told her that i had been wearing it since I was sixteen... when she asked who gave it to me, I smiled... I remembered the person who gave it to me... it was after they noticed that this was the life I chose... so, they gave me an anchor... and by sea, I came to Gaza... how many seas ans storms shall I defy, shall I cross... I wonder...
Love, N
Natalie Abou Shakra: "they shot at us so close"
"they shot at us so close...the bullet passed above my head says a comrade...now we sit down laughing at the death that just passed us through...I cannot feel my heart beat"
Natalie
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
08:55 A.M
Natalie
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
08:55 A.M
Monday, February 23, 2009
Helping Gaza as a Student
"Gaza Students" Initiative
Natalie Abou Shakra
As part of student activism, we have seen various forms of demonstrations and strikes acted out by students around the globe in solidarity with the Palestinian citizens in Gaza. Part of those actions, are the occupations of lecture halls, and university departments. These actions were hailed by many students herein and have encouraged them onto seeking a link with the outside- the 'outside' that supports.
As a result of this, we are seeking to form a link, or perhaps, a connection, discussion, and a route of communication between the students in Gaza, and students from different parts of the world.
During the 22 day Israeli attack on Gaza, LSE, SOAS and Bir Zeit, amongst others have managed to gather interested student organizations, clubs and movements, and form a direct communication in lectures and 30 minute discussion forums with the students here via the internet. Skype was used to provide sounds, sometimes, images, with difficulty. Another method of communication was speaking out the voices sent in letters from students in Gaza to the students of a respective university, and so has occurred at the University of Edinburgh whereby the one-day occupation of a lecture hall as well as the demanding that the university support students from Gaza, or scholarships to be provided to the university itself.
As part of this inflow of ideas and ways of action, I suggest the following to be considered:
I. Create a column at the university newspaper or magazine; if possible a "Gaza" section to allow for the writings of students here to be published weekly
II. Organize discussion forums and lectures in collaboration with student clubs and societies, in addition to movements and other forms of organizations to allow for communication from Gaza. This could be arranged with the coordinators herein and with technical help would provide a audio, or even video, medium of communication
III. Suggest support to be provided for students here, or scholarships to be given to the university itself, with special help to students of Gaza
IV. Organize exhibitions to allow for student of Gaza literary writings, particularly of that concerned with the siege and latest massacre against the Palestinian citizens of Gaza
Awaiting your reply in this regard. Please spread the word to the students you know.
Salam from Gaza, Palestine
Natalie Abou Shakra
009705 336 328 (Lebanon)
009725 336 328 (Intl.
Natalie Abou Shakra
As part of student activism, we have seen various forms of demonstrations and strikes acted out by students around the globe in solidarity with the Palestinian citizens in Gaza. Part of those actions, are the occupations of lecture halls, and university departments. These actions were hailed by many students herein and have encouraged them onto seeking a link with the outside- the 'outside' that supports.
As a result of this, we are seeking to form a link, or perhaps, a connection, discussion, and a route of communication between the students in Gaza, and students from different parts of the world.
During the 22 day Israeli attack on Gaza, LSE, SOAS and Bir Zeit, amongst others have managed to gather interested student organizations, clubs and movements, and form a direct communication in lectures and 30 minute discussion forums with the students here via the internet. Skype was used to provide sounds, sometimes, images, with difficulty. Another method of communication was speaking out the voices sent in letters from students in Gaza to the students of a respective university, and so has occurred at the University of Edinburgh whereby the one-day occupation of a lecture hall as well as the demanding that the university support students from Gaza, or scholarships to be provided to the university itself.
As part of this inflow of ideas and ways of action, I suggest the following to be considered:
I. Create a column at the university newspaper or magazine; if possible a "Gaza" section to allow for the writings of students here to be published weekly
II. Organize discussion forums and lectures in collaboration with student clubs and societies, in addition to movements and other forms of organizations to allow for communication from Gaza. This could be arranged with the coordinators herein and with technical help would provide a audio, or even video, medium of communication
III. Suggest support to be provided for students here, or scholarships to be given to the university itself, with special help to students of Gaza
IV. Organize exhibitions to allow for student of Gaza literary writings, particularly of that concerned with the siege and latest massacre against the Palestinian citizens of Gaza
Awaiting your reply in this regard. Please spread the word to the students you know.
Salam from Gaza, Palestine
Natalie Abou Shakra
009705 336 328 (Lebanon)
009725 336 328 (Intl.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Medea Benjamin: Once You See What Truly Happened in Gaza, it Will Change You Forever
By Medea Benjamin,
Posted on February 19, 2009 on Alternet
When I traveled to Gaza last week, everywhere I went, a photo haunted me. I saw it in a brochure called "Gaza will not die" that Hamas gives out to visitors at the border crossing. A poster-sized version was posted outside a makeshift memorial at the Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. And now that I am back home, the image comes to me when I look at children playing in the park, when I glance at the school across the street, when I go to sleep at night.
It is a photo of a young Palestinian girl who is literally buried alive in the rubble from a bomb blast, with just her head protruding from the ruins. Her eyes are closed, her mouth partially open, as if she were in a deep sleep. Dried blood covers her lips, her cheeks, her hair. Someone with a glove is reaching down to touch her forehead, showing one final gesture of kindness in the midst of such inhumanity.
What was this little girl's name, I wonder. How old was she? Was she sleeping when the bomb hit her home? Did she die a quick death or a slow, agonizing one? Where are her parents, her siblings? How are they faring?
Of the 1,330 Palestinians killed by the Israeli military during the 22-day invasion of Gaza, 437 were children. Let me repeat that: 437 children -- each as beautiful and precious as our own.
As a Jew, an American and a mother, I felt compelled to witness, firsthand, what my people and my taxdollars had done during this invasion. Visiting Gaza filled me with unbearable sadness. Unlike the primitive weapons of Hamas, the Israelis had so many sophisticated ways to murder, maim and destroy-unmanned drones, F-16s dropping "smart bombs" that miss, Apache helicopters launching missiles, tanks firing from the ground, ships shelling Gaza from the sea. So many horrific weapons stamped with Made in the USA. While Hamas' attacks on Israeli villages are deplorable, Israel's disproportionate response is unconscionable, with 1,330 Palestinians dead vs. 13 Israelis.
If the invasion was designed to destroy Hamas, it failed miserably. Not only is Hamas still in control, but it retains much popular support. If the invasion was designed as a form of collective punishment, it succeeded, leaving behind a trail of grieving mothers, angry fathers and traumatized children.
To get a sense of the devastation, check out a slide show circulating on the internet called Gaza: Massacre of Children (www.aztlan. net/gaza/ gaza_massacre_ of_children. php). It should be required viewing for all who supported this invasion of Gaza. Babies charred like shish-kebabs. Limbs chopped off. Features melted from white phosphorus. Faces crying out in pain, gripped by fear, overcome by grief.
Anyone who can view the slides and still repeat the mantra that "Israel has the right to self-defense" or "Hamas brought this upon its own people," or worse yet, "the Israeli military didn't go far enough," does a horrible disservice not only to the Palestinian people, but to humanity.
Compassion, the greatest virtue in all major religions, is the basic human emotion prompted by the suffering of others, and it triggers a desire to alleviate that suffering. True compassion is not circumscribed by one's faith or the nationality of those suffering. It crosses borders; it speaks a universal language; it shares a common spirituality. Those who have suffered themselves, such as Holocaust victims, are supposed to have the deepest well of compassion.
The Israeli election was in full swing while was I visiting Gaza. As I looked out on the ruins of schools, playgrounds, homes, mosques and clinics, I recalled the words of Benjamin Netanyahu, "No matter how strong the blows that Hamas received from Israel, it's not enough." As I talked to distraught mothers whose children were on life support in a bombed hospital, I thought of the "moderate" woman in the race, Tzipi Livni, who vowed that she would not negotiate with Hamas, insisted that "terror must be fought with force and lots of force" and warned that "if by ending the operation we have yet to achieve deterrence, we will continue until they get the message."
"The message," I can report, has been received. It is a message that Israel is run by war criminals, that the lives of Palestinians mean nothing to them. Even more chilling is the pro-war message sent by the Israeli people with their votes for Netanyahu, Livni and anti-Arab racist Avigdor Lieberman.
How tragic that nation born out of the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust has become a nation that supports the slaughter of Palestinians.
Here in the U.S., Congress ignored the suffering of the Palestinians and pledged its unwavering support for the Israeli state. All but five members out of 535 voted for a resolution justifying the invasion, falsely holding Hamas solely responsible for breaking the ceasefire and praising Israel for facilitating humanitarian aid to Gaza at a time when food supplies were rotting at the closed borders.
One glimmer of hope we found among people in Gaza was the Obama administration. Many were upset that Obama did not speak out during the invasion and that peace envoy George Mitchell, on his first trip to the Middle East, did not visit Gaza or even Syria. But they felt that Mitchell was a good choice and Obama, if given the space by the American people, could play a positive role.
Who can provide that space for Obama? Who can respond to the call for justice from the Palestinian people? Who can counter AIPAC, the powerful lobby that supports Israeli aggression?
An organized, mobilized, coordinated grassroots movement is the critical counterforce, and within that movement, those who have a particularly powerful voice are American Jews. We have the beginnings of a such a counterforce within the American Jewish community. Across the United States, Jews joined marches, sit-ins, die-ins, even chained themselves to Israeli consulates in protest. Jewish groups like J Street and Brit Tzedek v'Shalom lobby for a diplomatic solution. Tikkun organizes for a Jewish spiritual renewal grounded in social justice. The Middle East Children's Alliance and Madre send humanitarian aid to Palestine. Women in Black hold compelling weekly vigils. American Jews for a Just Peace plants olive trees on the West Bank. Jewish Voice for Peace promotes divestment from corporations that profit from occupation. Jews Against the Occupation calls for an end to U.S. aid to Israel.
We need greater coordination among these groups and within the broader movement. And we need more people and more sustained involvement, especially Jewish Americans. In loving memory of our ancestors and for the future of our-and Palestinian- children, more American Jews should speak out and reach out. As Sholom Schwartzbard, a member of Jews Against the Occupation, explained at a New York City protest, "We know from our own history what being sealed behind barbed wire and checkpoints is like, and we know that 'Never Again' means not anyone, not anywhere -- or it means nothing at all."
On March 7, I will return to Gaza with a large international delegation, bringing aid but more importantly, pressuring the Israeli, U.S. and Egyptian governments to open the borders and lift the siege. Many members of the delegation are Jews. We will travel in the spirit of tikkun olam, repairing the world, but with a heavy sense of responsibility, shame and yes, compassion. We will never be able to bring back to life the little girl buried in the rubble. But we can-and will--hold her in our hearts as we bring a message from America and a growing number of American Jews: To Gaza, With Love.
For information about joining the trip to Gaza, contact gaza.codepink[at]gmail.com.
Medea Benjamin is cofounder of Global Exchange and CODEPINK:Women for Peace.
Posted on February 19, 2009 on Alternet
When I traveled to Gaza last week, everywhere I went, a photo haunted me. I saw it in a brochure called "Gaza will not die" that Hamas gives out to visitors at the border crossing. A poster-sized version was posted outside a makeshift memorial at the Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. And now that I am back home, the image comes to me when I look at children playing in the park, when I glance at the school across the street, when I go to sleep at night.
It is a photo of a young Palestinian girl who is literally buried alive in the rubble from a bomb blast, with just her head protruding from the ruins. Her eyes are closed, her mouth partially open, as if she were in a deep sleep. Dried blood covers her lips, her cheeks, her hair. Someone with a glove is reaching down to touch her forehead, showing one final gesture of kindness in the midst of such inhumanity.
What was this little girl's name, I wonder. How old was she? Was she sleeping when the bomb hit her home? Did she die a quick death or a slow, agonizing one? Where are her parents, her siblings? How are they faring?
Of the 1,330 Palestinians killed by the Israeli military during the 22-day invasion of Gaza, 437 were children. Let me repeat that: 437 children -- each as beautiful and precious as our own.
As a Jew, an American and a mother, I felt compelled to witness, firsthand, what my people and my taxdollars had done during this invasion. Visiting Gaza filled me with unbearable sadness. Unlike the primitive weapons of Hamas, the Israelis had so many sophisticated ways to murder, maim and destroy-unmanned drones, F-16s dropping "smart bombs" that miss, Apache helicopters launching missiles, tanks firing from the ground, ships shelling Gaza from the sea. So many horrific weapons stamped with Made in the USA. While Hamas' attacks on Israeli villages are deplorable, Israel's disproportionate response is unconscionable, with 1,330 Palestinians dead vs. 13 Israelis.
If the invasion was designed to destroy Hamas, it failed miserably. Not only is Hamas still in control, but it retains much popular support. If the invasion was designed as a form of collective punishment, it succeeded, leaving behind a trail of grieving mothers, angry fathers and traumatized children.
To get a sense of the devastation, check out a slide show circulating on the internet called Gaza: Massacre of Children (www.aztlan. net/gaza/ gaza_massacre_ of_children. php). It should be required viewing for all who supported this invasion of Gaza. Babies charred like shish-kebabs. Limbs chopped off. Features melted from white phosphorus. Faces crying out in pain, gripped by fear, overcome by grief.
Anyone who can view the slides and still repeat the mantra that "Israel has the right to self-defense" or "Hamas brought this upon its own people," or worse yet, "the Israeli military didn't go far enough," does a horrible disservice not only to the Palestinian people, but to humanity.
Compassion, the greatest virtue in all major religions, is the basic human emotion prompted by the suffering of others, and it triggers a desire to alleviate that suffering. True compassion is not circumscribed by one's faith or the nationality of those suffering. It crosses borders; it speaks a universal language; it shares a common spirituality. Those who have suffered themselves, such as Holocaust victims, are supposed to have the deepest well of compassion.
The Israeli election was in full swing while was I visiting Gaza. As I looked out on the ruins of schools, playgrounds, homes, mosques and clinics, I recalled the words of Benjamin Netanyahu, "No matter how strong the blows that Hamas received from Israel, it's not enough." As I talked to distraught mothers whose children were on life support in a bombed hospital, I thought of the "moderate" woman in the race, Tzipi Livni, who vowed that she would not negotiate with Hamas, insisted that "terror must be fought with force and lots of force" and warned that "if by ending the operation we have yet to achieve deterrence, we will continue until they get the message."
"The message," I can report, has been received. It is a message that Israel is run by war criminals, that the lives of Palestinians mean nothing to them. Even more chilling is the pro-war message sent by the Israeli people with their votes for Netanyahu, Livni and anti-Arab racist Avigdor Lieberman.
How tragic that nation born out of the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust has become a nation that supports the slaughter of Palestinians.
Here in the U.S., Congress ignored the suffering of the Palestinians and pledged its unwavering support for the Israeli state. All but five members out of 535 voted for a resolution justifying the invasion, falsely holding Hamas solely responsible for breaking the ceasefire and praising Israel for facilitating humanitarian aid to Gaza at a time when food supplies were rotting at the closed borders.
One glimmer of hope we found among people in Gaza was the Obama administration. Many were upset that Obama did not speak out during the invasion and that peace envoy George Mitchell, on his first trip to the Middle East, did not visit Gaza or even Syria. But they felt that Mitchell was a good choice and Obama, if given the space by the American people, could play a positive role.
Who can provide that space for Obama? Who can respond to the call for justice from the Palestinian people? Who can counter AIPAC, the powerful lobby that supports Israeli aggression?
An organized, mobilized, coordinated grassroots movement is the critical counterforce, and within that movement, those who have a particularly powerful voice are American Jews. We have the beginnings of a such a counterforce within the American Jewish community. Across the United States, Jews joined marches, sit-ins, die-ins, even chained themselves to Israeli consulates in protest. Jewish groups like J Street and Brit Tzedek v'Shalom lobby for a diplomatic solution. Tikkun organizes for a Jewish spiritual renewal grounded in social justice. The Middle East Children's Alliance and Madre send humanitarian aid to Palestine. Women in Black hold compelling weekly vigils. American Jews for a Just Peace plants olive trees on the West Bank. Jewish Voice for Peace promotes divestment from corporations that profit from occupation. Jews Against the Occupation calls for an end to U.S. aid to Israel.
We need greater coordination among these groups and within the broader movement. And we need more people and more sustained involvement, especially Jewish Americans. In loving memory of our ancestors and for the future of our-and Palestinian- children, more American Jews should speak out and reach out. As Sholom Schwartzbard, a member of Jews Against the Occupation, explained at a New York City protest, "We know from our own history what being sealed behind barbed wire and checkpoints is like, and we know that 'Never Again' means not anyone, not anywhere -- or it means nothing at all."
On March 7, I will return to Gaza with a large international delegation, bringing aid but more importantly, pressuring the Israeli, U.S. and Egyptian governments to open the borders and lift the siege. Many members of the delegation are Jews. We will travel in the spirit of tikkun olam, repairing the world, but with a heavy sense of responsibility, shame and yes, compassion. We will never be able to bring back to life the little girl buried in the rubble. But we can-and will--hold her in our hearts as we bring a message from America and a growing number of American Jews: To Gaza, With Love.
For information about joining the trip to Gaza, contact gaza.codepink[at]gmail.com.
Medea Benjamin is cofounder of Global Exchange and CODEPINK:Women for Peace.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Prof. Dr. Said Abdelwahed: It never stops
Thursday, February 18, 2009
Yesterday evening, an Israeli attack helicopter flew over our heads in Tel al-Hawa neigbourhood; it launched a missles somehwere in our area! Also, F-16 targeted tow places in Kha Younis and Rafah. Last night, almost at midnight, F-16 executed three raids on targets to the north of Gaza city! Many of the places they target nowadays were hit sometimes during the war, so that they attack destroyed places! The thing was that those raids were off the air! There was no mention of it in the news as if it became a normal daily life practice!
On another note, the Minsitry of Health in Gaza appealed to the public its urgent need of any blood (mainly negative categories) as all hospitals and blood bank have run out of all categories of negative blood! Health Ministry encouraged people to donate whatever possible of those needed blood categories! Add to that 91 medicines are no longer available in Gaza at all. They are zero! People can do just nothing about those medicines, of course!
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Yesterday evening, an Israeli attack helicopter flew over our heads in Tel al-Hawa neigbourhood; it launched a missles somehwere in our area! Also, F-16 targeted tow places in Kha Younis and Rafah. Last night, almost at midnight, F-16 executed three raids on targets to the north of Gaza city! Many of the places they target nowadays were hit sometimes during the war, so that they attack destroyed places! The thing was that those raids were off the air! There was no mention of it in the news as if it became a normal daily life practice!
On another note, the Minsitry of Health in Gaza appealed to the public its urgent need of any blood (mainly negative categories) as all hospitals and blood bank have run out of all categories of negative blood! Health Ministry encouraged people to donate whatever possible of those needed blood categories! Add to that 91 medicines are no longer available in Gaza at all. They are zero! People can do just nothing about those medicines, of course!
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
A Palestinian student requesting support: Dear world, help me continue my studies
In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful
My name is Wafaa Wael Abu lela
My ID card number is 802371005
I write these words hoping and asking God almighty to read it with a lot of patience.
I am a Palestinian girl who has hopes and whishes as well as the girls in the whole world .
One of my dearest dreams since ever since I was young was to study medicine, which grew with me through the journey of my life till I became old enough to study it and finally achieve my dream. For that reason, I joined the "International University of Palestine " in Gaza strip to study .
But some times the whole circumstances around us gather to kill our dreams. Here , I find no body to help me except you after almighty God.
I live a hard life psychologically and physiologically, in addition to the war nightmare which dominated Gaza and broke the hearts of Palestinian children as well as grown ups. My family lives in a very bad situation according to the cruel circumstances which led to making us unable to pay the money needed for my study , after the death of my grand father..."he is a martyr " , who was the bread winner for my family as my father is in a critical health situation and can not work . my mother who work irregularly and do not even get paid regularly , she tries hard to provide some of the necessary things needed for family of seven members .
I was deprived to enter some of my final exams because I did not pay the money needed for my first year. This will affect my study badly through my next years .
I would appreciate your generosity in aiding me financially to complete my studies which cost me 5000$ " dollar " a year .
I would like to inform you that I will do my best to be as good as you expect.I am already one of the best students , I got " 95.2 % " in high school certificate ,and I am really looking forward to finish my studies and work as a dentist and help my family who suffered a lot. This will also give me the chance to help people in such a condition and give them the chance to achieve their dreams and ambition.
For your information, the account number is : 744938 " Cairo-Amman Bank ". I know I am asking for a lot, but any kind of support would be useful from you. Afterall, you are the only source of support that I have.
Thank you so much. May God bless you .
With my best wishes.
Yours faithfully,
Wafaa Wael Abu Lela
Gaza, Palestine
My name is Wafaa Wael Abu lela
My ID card number is 802371005
I write these words hoping and asking God almighty to read it with a lot of patience.
I am a Palestinian girl who has hopes and whishes as well as the girls in the whole world .
One of my dearest dreams since ever since I was young was to study medicine, which grew with me through the journey of my life till I became old enough to study it and finally achieve my dream. For that reason, I joined the "International University of Palestine " in Gaza strip to study .
But some times the whole circumstances around us gather to kill our dreams. Here , I find no body to help me except you after almighty God.
I live a hard life psychologically and physiologically, in addition to the war nightmare which dominated Gaza and broke the hearts of Palestinian children as well as grown ups. My family lives in a very bad situation according to the cruel circumstances which led to making us unable to pay the money needed for my study , after the death of my grand father..."he is a martyr " , who was the bread winner for my family as my father is in a critical health situation and can not work . my mother who work irregularly and do not even get paid regularly , she tries hard to provide some of the necessary things needed for family of seven members .
I was deprived to enter some of my final exams because I did not pay the money needed for my first year. This will affect my study badly through my next years .
I would appreciate your generosity in aiding me financially to complete my studies which cost me 5000$ " dollar " a year .
I would like to inform you that I will do my best to be as good as you expect.I am already one of the best students , I got " 95.2 % " in high school certificate ,and I am really looking forward to finish my studies and work as a dentist and help my family who suffered a lot. This will also give me the chance to help people in such a condition and give them the chance to achieve their dreams and ambition.
For your information, the account number is : 744938 " Cairo-Amman Bank ". I know I am asking for a lot, but any kind of support would be useful from you. Afterall, you are the only source of support that I have.
Thank you so much. May God bless you .
With my best wishes.
Yours faithfully,
Wafaa Wael Abu Lela
Gaza, Palestine
Monday, February 16, 2009
Destroying Gaza's farms : A 360 degree panorama
Dear all,
I invite you to have a closer look at Gaza's destroyed farms.
Below is a link for a 360 degree panorama from Juhor ad-Dik, which is the farming village in Gaza destroyed by the Israel Occupation Forces.
Click here : http://www.panoramas.dk/2009/gaza-war.html and give it a minute or two to fully load. Then you can scroll right or left to have a full view.
Notice how you can see the traces of the military tanks on the ground. The destruction around is immense indeed.
This panorama was made by Norwegian Photo Journalist Andreas Lunde, whom I thank dearly for his effort in helping us relay the truth to the world.
Thank you,
Nader
Managing the Blog
gaza08.blogspot.com
I invite you to have a closer look at Gaza's destroyed farms.
Below is a link for a 360 degree panorama from Juhor ad-Dik, which is the farming village in Gaza destroyed by the Israel Occupation Forces.
Click here : http://www.panoramas.dk/2009/gaza-war.html and give it a minute or two to fully load. Then you can scroll right or left to have a full view.
Notice how you can see the traces of the military tanks on the ground. The destruction around is immense indeed.
This panorama was made by Norwegian Photo Journalist Andreas Lunde, whom I thank dearly for his effort in helping us relay the truth to the world.
Thank you,
Nader
Managing the Blog
gaza08.blogspot.com
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Prof. Said Abdelwahed: Valentine flowers from Gaza!
It was after three years that Israel allows the Palestinians of Gaza to export flowers! What a news!!! Well, 60% of Gaza agriculture was annihiliated in the war!
In Rafah town, there are flowers greenhouses that produce 10 million flowers every year. For three years Israel gave no permission to any farmer to export it! Gazans had to "eat and drink' flowers for two years.
Well, this year, after the invasion, Holland bought 25000 flowers to be shipped in three shipments. Yesterday, Israel permitted shipping 10000 flowers! Happy Valentines day!
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
In Rafah town, there are flowers greenhouses that produce 10 million flowers every year. For three years Israel gave no permission to any farmer to export it! Gazans had to "eat and drink' flowers for two years.
Well, this year, after the invasion, Holland bought 25000 flowers to be shipped in three shipments. Yesterday, Israel permitted shipping 10000 flowers! Happy Valentines day!
Prof. Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Friday, February 13, 2009
Natalie Abou Shakra: Singing Martyrdom
Friday February 13, 2009
Raise your voice, raise your voice, raise it in your song! Songs are still possible, they are still possible!
“Please tell me how he was! How did you find him? Was his body still put together? Was it in pieces?! You have to tell me!” demanded the mother of the martyr Yousef Abu ‘Oda.
On Wednesday February 10, 2009, we were requested to join a team of Beit Hanoun locals in the Bura area in search of the body of Abu ‘Oda who has not been found despite two days of searching. We were around twenty individuals and we set search in areas around fifty metres close to the Apartheid wall on the northern borders. For around thirty minutes, as we coupled in pairs, we found the body of 21 year old Abu ‘Oda in the close proximity of a hill where the Israeli Occupation Forces were present. It was raining heavily, and small chips of ice were falling from the sky. It was cloudy and grey, and some soldiers were in a jeep that had its headlights on, looking like a spooky object amidst the darkness of the surrounding. Another was in a square like cemented block, hiding, grabbing onto a sniper, with a helmet atop his head. As the soldiers threatened via their megaphone to begin shooting at us, someone behind me screamed “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!” The corpse had been found. Against the intensity of rain, it was carried in carpets back to an ambulance that could not make it where we were due to fear of the IOF targeting it.
Abu ‘Oda had decided to choose the path of martyrdom, to use his body as a reaction against the oppressor’s recent massacre against his people. He had decided to blow himself up, at the borders, by the Israeli Occupation Forces’ soldiers who were present at the border. Abu ‘Oda, along with another young man, Kafarneh, were shot as they got closer, with the TNT explosives around their waists exploding at the instant. Kafarneh’s body was found earlier, but no one dared come closer to the borders to search for Abu ‘Oda.
Yousef is the ninth child of a family composed of ten individuals. He used to deliver chairs for funeral services during the twenty two day Israeli attack on Gaza. “Under the bombs, he insisted to take the chairs to the service, despite our constant disapproval,” said Reem, his cousin. Yousef had told his family that he wanted to honor his country by choosing martyrdom. As I sat beside his relatives in his funeral service, I couldn’t but relate to the irony. It is now Yousef’s funeral, Yousef’s chairs, Yousef’s green tent under which the men sit under outside, Yousef’s dates that the family serves as guests enter to offer their condolences. “How old are you?” asked his mother, and when I said I was twenty one, tears formed in her sparkling brown eyes, “he was 21 as well.”
But, it was not the end. The children smiled, there was food on the tables, the women cheered, and the men stood welcoming. Their heads were raised high, and their spirits strong against the death of their son.
Perhaps Yousef will not be mentioned in history books to come, perhaps his family’s grief will not be noted down, perhaps his story will not be narrated that often, but his act is an echo, a symbol, a defiant decision against the weaponry of the strongest nuclear power in the region.
“I do not walk the line, where I place my foot, the line begins,” says Mahmoud Darwish in Goodbye to War, Goodbye to Peace, with his words never dying. Yousef walked his line, the path to the border. What he was thinking, no one knows. But, what he was doing, millions shall respond to, to the symbol, to the meaning, to the echo. This is not a culture of death, and this is not recklessness. This is the choice of death, for life. This is what would break the feeling of helplessness to those who own no F16s, F15s, F35s, Apaches, White Phosphorous, Gun boats, tanks and snipers. Yousef is a soldier, a soldier of a hidden army that rises against the injustices of time, of place, and of dominant discourses of power. In Palestine, everyone is a soldier, each soldier with a different weapon, each weapon with a different echo, each echo with a variant form of resistance.
In whose hands does victory lie?
The human… the human will stand victorious, and politics falls at its feet (M. Darwich, 1974)
Natalie
Raise your voice, raise your voice, raise it in your song! Songs are still possible, they are still possible!
“Please tell me how he was! How did you find him? Was his body still put together? Was it in pieces?! You have to tell me!” demanded the mother of the martyr Yousef Abu ‘Oda.
On Wednesday February 10, 2009, we were requested to join a team of Beit Hanoun locals in the Bura area in search of the body of Abu ‘Oda who has not been found despite two days of searching. We were around twenty individuals and we set search in areas around fifty metres close to the Apartheid wall on the northern borders. For around thirty minutes, as we coupled in pairs, we found the body of 21 year old Abu ‘Oda in the close proximity of a hill where the Israeli Occupation Forces were present. It was raining heavily, and small chips of ice were falling from the sky. It was cloudy and grey, and some soldiers were in a jeep that had its headlights on, looking like a spooky object amidst the darkness of the surrounding. Another was in a square like cemented block, hiding, grabbing onto a sniper, with a helmet atop his head. As the soldiers threatened via their megaphone to begin shooting at us, someone behind me screamed “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!” The corpse had been found. Against the intensity of rain, it was carried in carpets back to an ambulance that could not make it where we were due to fear of the IOF targeting it.
Abu ‘Oda had decided to choose the path of martyrdom, to use his body as a reaction against the oppressor’s recent massacre against his people. He had decided to blow himself up, at the borders, by the Israeli Occupation Forces’ soldiers who were present at the border. Abu ‘Oda, along with another young man, Kafarneh, were shot as they got closer, with the TNT explosives around their waists exploding at the instant. Kafarneh’s body was found earlier, but no one dared come closer to the borders to search for Abu ‘Oda.
Yousef is the ninth child of a family composed of ten individuals. He used to deliver chairs for funeral services during the twenty two day Israeli attack on Gaza. “Under the bombs, he insisted to take the chairs to the service, despite our constant disapproval,” said Reem, his cousin. Yousef had told his family that he wanted to honor his country by choosing martyrdom. As I sat beside his relatives in his funeral service, I couldn’t but relate to the irony. It is now Yousef’s funeral, Yousef’s chairs, Yousef’s green tent under which the men sit under outside, Yousef’s dates that the family serves as guests enter to offer their condolences. “How old are you?” asked his mother, and when I said I was twenty one, tears formed in her sparkling brown eyes, “he was 21 as well.”
But, it was not the end. The children smiled, there was food on the tables, the women cheered, and the men stood welcoming. Their heads were raised high, and their spirits strong against the death of their son.
Perhaps Yousef will not be mentioned in history books to come, perhaps his family’s grief will not be noted down, perhaps his story will not be narrated that often, but his act is an echo, a symbol, a defiant decision against the weaponry of the strongest nuclear power in the region.
“I do not walk the line, where I place my foot, the line begins,” says Mahmoud Darwish in Goodbye to War, Goodbye to Peace, with his words never dying. Yousef walked his line, the path to the border. What he was thinking, no one knows. But, what he was doing, millions shall respond to, to the symbol, to the meaning, to the echo. This is not a culture of death, and this is not recklessness. This is the choice of death, for life. This is what would break the feeling of helplessness to those who own no F16s, F15s, F35s, Apaches, White Phosphorous, Gun boats, tanks and snipers. Yousef is a soldier, a soldier of a hidden army that rises against the injustices of time, of place, and of dominant discourses of power. In Palestine, everyone is a soldier, each soldier with a different weapon, each weapon with a different echo, each echo with a variant form of resistance.
In whose hands does victory lie?
The human… the human will stand victorious, and politics falls at its feet (M. Darwich, 1974)
Natalie
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
An e-mail from Natalie
Wednesday, Ferbuary 11, 2009
Yesterday was extremely intense...I had to face the enemy again, this time the eyes and face were visible, the sniper was too, and, as it was cloudy and raining. Yesterday, their jeep, over the hill, lit their headlights, and it was surreal in confrontation... we found the body of the Abu Awdeh, a martyr who was going to blow himself up, but was shot in the proces.His body was near the apartheid wall of beit hanoun, the face was intact, but his body was not a body, if you know what i mean... little ice particles came down with the rain, and we were showered from head to toe, with muddy shoes and trousers
Natalie
Yesterday was extremely intense...I had to face the enemy again, this time the eyes and face were visible, the sniper was too, and, as it was cloudy and raining. Yesterday, their jeep, over the hill, lit their headlights, and it was surreal in confrontation... we found the body of the Abu Awdeh, a martyr who was going to blow himself up, but was shot in the proces.His body was near the apartheid wall of beit hanoun, the face was intact, but his body was not a body, if you know what i mean... little ice particles came down with the rain, and we were showered from head to toe, with muddy shoes and trousers
Natalie
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Moments of Gaza ... in pictures
Dear all,
For weeks, you have read about the moments of Gaza, day by day. You showed your sympathy and extended your valuable support, for which we thank you. Now, thanks to our bloggers and friends in Gaza, you can see the moments of Gaza in pictures:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7992598@N02/
This photostream contains most of the pictures which I received from Natalie and Prof. Said Abdelwahed as they took pictures with their own personal cameras and wanted to share them with the world. Many of those pictures were taken right after the war stopped, even during it. They will be updated throughout the week and will keep you posted whenever there are new ones uploaded.
No need to remind you: Please spread the word.
Thank you,
Nader Houella
Managing the blog
For weeks, you have read about the moments of Gaza, day by day. You showed your sympathy and extended your valuable support, for which we thank you. Now, thanks to our bloggers and friends in Gaza, you can see the moments of Gaza in pictures:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7992598@N02/
This photostream contains most of the pictures which I received from Natalie and Prof. Said Abdelwahed as they took pictures with their own personal cameras and wanted to share them with the world. Many of those pictures were taken right after the war stopped, even during it. They will be updated throughout the week and will keep you posted whenever there are new ones uploaded.
No need to remind you: Please spread the word.
Thank you,
Nader Houella
Managing the blog
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Shooting at the border - Video
Here is the video of the shooting that took place:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQXecLyureE
...when they shot at us the second time we went... and this is supposed to be much less violent than its predecessor... this was where a farmer was killed around a week ago does the ploughing compose a threat to the israeli occupation forces' security?
Natalie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQXecLyureE
...when they shot at us the second time we went... and this is supposed to be much less violent than its predecessor... this was where a farmer was killed around a week ago does the ploughing compose a threat to the israeli occupation forces' security?
Natalie
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Natalie Abou Shakra: From the Ending We Shall Begin
Saturday February 7, 2009
His green eyes divert in the opposite direction as I look into them. He smiles at me shyly, sadly, forlornly. I stand against the magnitude of a man, too great not to be noticed. His tall, dark figure directs me to the car, and his friend drives us to the sea. It is almost noon, and I peak towards his seat. The windows dark, the car white, the sun shining and we stop at the hotel. “We shall come in a minute,” he tells me, “find us a seat.”
The darkness of his skin makes his emerald green eyes fire with brightness. His name is Adnan, and he is a father of six children. “The pressure was immense, and its magnitude pushed me forward. It was a magnanimous sound with extreme pressure,” he spoke motioning his hands towards his face and his chest, his body leaning towards the table and his head rose forward not surrendering to the excruciating memory of the Israeli bombing of the Jawazat [passports] section of the Ministry of Interior. It was one of the first targets of the Israeli Apache planes at 11:30 a.m. on Saturday December 27, 2008 where around fourty Palestinian citizens were slaughtered the day they were finishing their training course in being traffic officers.
Adnan was in the meeting room on the third floor, and in less than a second, he was under the rubble of a building leveled down. All he opened his eyes to, was a black void until sun rays from a nearby hole, in what seemed like a ceiling, was noticed. A flood of liquid poured down from his forehead, and he struggled to keep his eyes open against what he later realized was blood. Moments later, he was pulled out, and retrieved consciousness at the Shifa hospital full of people with amputated body parts, children with deep wounds on their faces and bodies. “I was shocked by the images. I forgot myself, I forgot my wounds, and I even forgot my pain. The images I saw were more shocking, were more painful than what my body was going through,” he told me calmly. But, Adnan is still alive, he goes back to work, he brings bread home.
The rubbles of the Jawazat section are now cleared off. Days ago, however, as I walked through the eastern neighborhood of Jabalya town, the rubbles of leveled down homes around me told different tales of resistance. I was greeted by families drinking tea above the ruins of their homes. As I walked past the uprooted olive tree orchards, a woman ran towards me crying “they killed the stones, the trees, the animals, the humans… they killed everything!” I observed the trails of the tanks, drawing images of the plummeting of the earth below them and devastating the life below their weight. But, I also saw a little green stem rise against the death of soil. As I ascended the staircase towards a still standing home’s roof, I saw two pigeons that the housekeeper had raised, killed. But, I also saw others flying around freely alive.
The core of this reality is not humanitarian. It is political. The core of this being is that it has been a being of 61 years of waiting, and the people are still waiting. The core of this absurdity is that there were around 483 children massacred during a period of twenty two days, and the criminal has not been tried yet. The core of this existence is that there have been numerous peace processes bringing about a series of episodes of massacres and acts of ethnic cleansing. The core of this actuality is that there is a society crippled, its development obstructed, its people repressed, oppressed, and imprisoned, and negotiations are still ongoing. From the tragedy of a siege to the tragedy of human slaughtering, and the sea still roars with pride along the coast of Gaza. “What can we do without the sea? I would die without the sea in Gaza” a friend tells me. There is always a sea.
Behind the sadness of tales, there lies a resistance, the roaring of a people with a meteoric amalgam of unforeseen power. The song of resistance has not ended yet, and the words of Frantz Fanon come again to ring in the ears of oblivion a narration of liberation. “Faced with the extent of the damage, colonialism begins to have second thoughts,” he writes, “a generation of people willing to make sacrifices, to give all they have, impatient, with an indestructible pride.” The war on Gaza was a spark, a calling onto morality and justice, onto the boycotting and isolation of an Aparthied ideology, regime and political entity. It is now that the ending is writing a new beginning, in a cause that witnessed the false notions of many new beginnings. From the ending, then, we shall start.
Natalie
His green eyes divert in the opposite direction as I look into them. He smiles at me shyly, sadly, forlornly. I stand against the magnitude of a man, too great not to be noticed. His tall, dark figure directs me to the car, and his friend drives us to the sea. It is almost noon, and I peak towards his seat. The windows dark, the car white, the sun shining and we stop at the hotel. “We shall come in a minute,” he tells me, “find us a seat.”
The darkness of his skin makes his emerald green eyes fire with brightness. His name is Adnan, and he is a father of six children. “The pressure was immense, and its magnitude pushed me forward. It was a magnanimous sound with extreme pressure,” he spoke motioning his hands towards his face and his chest, his body leaning towards the table and his head rose forward not surrendering to the excruciating memory of the Israeli bombing of the Jawazat [passports] section of the Ministry of Interior. It was one of the first targets of the Israeli Apache planes at 11:30 a.m. on Saturday December 27, 2008 where around fourty Palestinian citizens were slaughtered the day they were finishing their training course in being traffic officers.
Adnan was in the meeting room on the third floor, and in less than a second, he was under the rubble of a building leveled down. All he opened his eyes to, was a black void until sun rays from a nearby hole, in what seemed like a ceiling, was noticed. A flood of liquid poured down from his forehead, and he struggled to keep his eyes open against what he later realized was blood. Moments later, he was pulled out, and retrieved consciousness at the Shifa hospital full of people with amputated body parts, children with deep wounds on their faces and bodies. “I was shocked by the images. I forgot myself, I forgot my wounds, and I even forgot my pain. The images I saw were more shocking, were more painful than what my body was going through,” he told me calmly. But, Adnan is still alive, he goes back to work, he brings bread home.
The rubbles of the Jawazat section are now cleared off. Days ago, however, as I walked through the eastern neighborhood of Jabalya town, the rubbles of leveled down homes around me told different tales of resistance. I was greeted by families drinking tea above the ruins of their homes. As I walked past the uprooted olive tree orchards, a woman ran towards me crying “they killed the stones, the trees, the animals, the humans… they killed everything!” I observed the trails of the tanks, drawing images of the plummeting of the earth below them and devastating the life below their weight. But, I also saw a little green stem rise against the death of soil. As I ascended the staircase towards a still standing home’s roof, I saw two pigeons that the housekeeper had raised, killed. But, I also saw others flying around freely alive.
The core of this reality is not humanitarian. It is political. The core of this being is that it has been a being of 61 years of waiting, and the people are still waiting. The core of this absurdity is that there were around 483 children massacred during a period of twenty two days, and the criminal has not been tried yet. The core of this existence is that there have been numerous peace processes bringing about a series of episodes of massacres and acts of ethnic cleansing. The core of this actuality is that there is a society crippled, its development obstructed, its people repressed, oppressed, and imprisoned, and negotiations are still ongoing. From the tragedy of a siege to the tragedy of human slaughtering, and the sea still roars with pride along the coast of Gaza. “What can we do without the sea? I would die without the sea in Gaza” a friend tells me. There is always a sea.
Behind the sadness of tales, there lies a resistance, the roaring of a people with a meteoric amalgam of unforeseen power. The song of resistance has not ended yet, and the words of Frantz Fanon come again to ring in the ears of oblivion a narration of liberation. “Faced with the extent of the damage, colonialism begins to have second thoughts,” he writes, “a generation of people willing to make sacrifices, to give all they have, impatient, with an indestructible pride.” The war on Gaza was a spark, a calling onto morality and justice, onto the boycotting and isolation of an Aparthied ideology, regime and political entity. It is now that the ending is writing a new beginning, in a cause that witnessed the false notions of many new beginnings. From the ending, then, we shall start.
Natalie
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Natalie Abou Shakra: "Don’t shoot! We are unarmed civilians!”
Black Roses of Gaza
Tuesday February 3, 2009
“Don’t shoot! We are international human rights observers! We are unarmed civilians!”
But the shooting continues… the Israeli jeeps insisted their way, the whizzing sounds of bullets passing by us ring in our ears.
For around thirty minutes, around eleven activists from Canada, Britain, Australia, Greece, Italy, Palestine and Lebanon, four journalists from Italy, and around five farmers from ‘Abasan area of Gaza stood face-to-face with what seemed like a crashing storm of bullets heading our way from around 100 metres away from the Eastern borders with Sderot. The farmers lay low, bodies against the dry earth of a hot noon, near them the Italian journalists crouching on their knees, and some with hands covering their heads. Eight activists, including myself, stood with hands parallel to our chests, wide open, revealing an unarmed body, and a persistent spirit.
They shoot again.
“DON’T SHOOT!” a comrade screams through the mega phone.
But, the answer is… more shots.
The F16 planes with their high air resistance had been drawing white circular shapes like smiles in the clear blue of the sky, moments before the shooting happened. Four Israeli Occupation Force (IOF) jeeps parked adjacent to one another, with snipers pointing out, started shooting randomly at the dirt around us. “If someone is hurt, please do not rush to them. Stay put in your place!” says a comrade on my right. We stick to our positions, standing, looking straight ahead. I am holding my notebook in my right hand, and I am afraid to get shot at if I bend down and place it in my bag. My hands grow tired, but I turn to smile at comrades on my left and on my right. “Will my smile be provocative? Will me white teeth pose a threat to their security?” I ask myself amidst the whirlwind of shootings around me. After we continue screaming through the mega phone for the shootings to stop, a calm minute passes. Two comrades come by my side, and then the shootings continue again. We freeze. It is loud, and it whizzes by one’s ear...
For someone who has lived the July 2006 war in Lebanon, and this war on Gaza, I thought that no confrontation with death will frighten me. But, I discover my virginity in the issue of shootings. As if the F16, F35, F15, Apache, White Phosphorous, and surveillance planes rockets were not enough, I now add on to my war expertise, the Israeli Occupation Forces’ border jeep bullets. My defloration did not go by smoothly though, for yet again, the IOF strike again, with the same, redundant element of surprise technique, as it did the first day, 50 metres away from me in its striking of the Preventive Security Compound, know as the Mujammaa’ El Amn El Wiqaei, in the Abraj Street of the Tal el Hawa area in Gaza city.
It has been quite a while now since the International Solidarity Movement activists have been accompanying farmers and fishermen alike in their quest for breadwinning. The activists as nationals of Western countries, provide their bodies as human shields, holding on to an identity of “European” or “American” to provide security for the lives of those less privileged of such titles: those… Palestinians, which seemingly have a cheaper existence in the eyes of many.
The farmers have acres of land near the borders of which they solely depend on for survival. We accompanied them today as they ploughed parsley they wished to sell of which any benefit attained provides for around 15 families. On that land, spinach, cabbage, eggplant, pepper, and wheat is planted. It used to include orchards of olive trees, and other citric fruits; however, they were uprooted by the Israeli Occupation Forces’ tractors and tanks during previous attacks.
“Every time we pull ourselves to work and walk the line, they strike us again, breaking us. But, we rise again… and again, they strike” says Abu Mohammad. The land stands like a human body: can rape and violation of one’s body not be resisted? Why should land be succumbed? Why should land not be fought for? It is a right to every people to fight for their land and their right to live dignified on it. The farmers demanded that they be capable of coming to their land without any accompaniment: “will the next generations need to be dependent on a group of foreigners in order to work on their land?”
After the hustle and bustle of the bullets and shots of today, I read the news of the South African Transport and Allied Workers Union’s decision to refuse the loading off of products of an Israeli shipment. The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions considered this to be a historical moment of our modern times, one reminiscent of the Danish dock workers actions of 1963 in their refusal to accept products from a shipment sent by the Apartheid South African state which lead to the snowballing of the boycotting of the aforementioned Apartheid state in Europe and elsewhere. The isolation of the Apartheid Israeli state by its boycotting has just been triggered by its recent massacre in Gaza.
As the sun sets against the dense, humid air of Gaza, we smell the rising tales of yet another aggression worse than its predecessor… “They want to implement Operation Cutting Red Roses [the coming IOF operation in Gaza]… are there any red roses left in Gaza for them to cut? There are only black ones in Gaza now…” says an old taxi cab driver, as we pass by the tales of 61 years of grazing of dreams.
Natalie
Tuesday February 3, 2009
“Don’t shoot! We are international human rights observers! We are unarmed civilians!”
But the shooting continues… the Israeli jeeps insisted their way, the whizzing sounds of bullets passing by us ring in our ears.
For around thirty minutes, around eleven activists from Canada, Britain, Australia, Greece, Italy, Palestine and Lebanon, four journalists from Italy, and around five farmers from ‘Abasan area of Gaza stood face-to-face with what seemed like a crashing storm of bullets heading our way from around 100 metres away from the Eastern borders with Sderot. The farmers lay low, bodies against the dry earth of a hot noon, near them the Italian journalists crouching on their knees, and some with hands covering their heads. Eight activists, including myself, stood with hands parallel to our chests, wide open, revealing an unarmed body, and a persistent spirit.
They shoot again.
“DON’T SHOOT!” a comrade screams through the mega phone.
But, the answer is… more shots.
The F16 planes with their high air resistance had been drawing white circular shapes like smiles in the clear blue of the sky, moments before the shooting happened. Four Israeli Occupation Force (IOF) jeeps parked adjacent to one another, with snipers pointing out, started shooting randomly at the dirt around us. “If someone is hurt, please do not rush to them. Stay put in your place!” says a comrade on my right. We stick to our positions, standing, looking straight ahead. I am holding my notebook in my right hand, and I am afraid to get shot at if I bend down and place it in my bag. My hands grow tired, but I turn to smile at comrades on my left and on my right. “Will my smile be provocative? Will me white teeth pose a threat to their security?” I ask myself amidst the whirlwind of shootings around me. After we continue screaming through the mega phone for the shootings to stop, a calm minute passes. Two comrades come by my side, and then the shootings continue again. We freeze. It is loud, and it whizzes by one’s ear...
For someone who has lived the July 2006 war in Lebanon, and this war on Gaza, I thought that no confrontation with death will frighten me. But, I discover my virginity in the issue of shootings. As if the F16, F35, F15, Apache, White Phosphorous, and surveillance planes rockets were not enough, I now add on to my war expertise, the Israeli Occupation Forces’ border jeep bullets. My defloration did not go by smoothly though, for yet again, the IOF strike again, with the same, redundant element of surprise technique, as it did the first day, 50 metres away from me in its striking of the Preventive Security Compound, know as the Mujammaa’ El Amn El Wiqaei, in the Abraj Street of the Tal el Hawa area in Gaza city.
It has been quite a while now since the International Solidarity Movement activists have been accompanying farmers and fishermen alike in their quest for breadwinning. The activists as nationals of Western countries, provide their bodies as human shields, holding on to an identity of “European” or “American” to provide security for the lives of those less privileged of such titles: those… Palestinians, which seemingly have a cheaper existence in the eyes of many.
The farmers have acres of land near the borders of which they solely depend on for survival. We accompanied them today as they ploughed parsley they wished to sell of which any benefit attained provides for around 15 families. On that land, spinach, cabbage, eggplant, pepper, and wheat is planted. It used to include orchards of olive trees, and other citric fruits; however, they were uprooted by the Israeli Occupation Forces’ tractors and tanks during previous attacks.
“Every time we pull ourselves to work and walk the line, they strike us again, breaking us. But, we rise again… and again, they strike” says Abu Mohammad. The land stands like a human body: can rape and violation of one’s body not be resisted? Why should land be succumbed? Why should land not be fought for? It is a right to every people to fight for their land and their right to live dignified on it. The farmers demanded that they be capable of coming to their land without any accompaniment: “will the next generations need to be dependent on a group of foreigners in order to work on their land?”
After the hustle and bustle of the bullets and shots of today, I read the news of the South African Transport and Allied Workers Union’s decision to refuse the loading off of products of an Israeli shipment. The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions considered this to be a historical moment of our modern times, one reminiscent of the Danish dock workers actions of 1963 in their refusal to accept products from a shipment sent by the Apartheid South African state which lead to the snowballing of the boycotting of the aforementioned Apartheid state in Europe and elsewhere. The isolation of the Apartheid Israeli state by its boycotting has just been triggered by its recent massacre in Gaza.
As the sun sets against the dense, humid air of Gaza, we smell the rising tales of yet another aggression worse than its predecessor… “They want to implement Operation Cutting Red Roses [the coming IOF operation in Gaza]… are there any red roses left in Gaza for them to cut? There are only black ones in Gaza now…” says an old taxi cab driver, as we pass by the tales of 61 years of grazing of dreams.
Natalie
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Prof. Said Abdelwahed: Gaza Tomorrow
In Gaza, tomorrow, Wednesday 4th 2009, 7 schools, 3 universities and UNRWA headquaters and main offices will be off because there will be the defusing of missles and shells left unexploded after the war.
Even weeks after the ceasefire, Gaza still remains far away from spending a peaceful day.
Prof. Said Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Even weeks after the ceasefire, Gaza still remains far away from spending a peaceful day.
Prof. Said Abdelwahed
Department of English
Faculty of Arts & Humanities
Al-Azhar University of Gaza
Monday, February 2, 2009
Israel Changes Spanish Law
Very interesting the power of the Israel lobby in Spain. You will recall a Spanish court, under Spanish law is allowed to prosecute officials of other countries, for war crimes.But now, obviously due to extreme intervention by Israel, the Spanish government is going to change their own law...to allow accused Israeli War Criminals to go free.
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1059964.html
Nader
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1059964.html
Nader
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