Shooting in our Backyard

 

By Siham Al Masri (15 years old)
Ramallah, Palestine

 

They call it another Intifada, and perhaps it is, but how does it affect us? We go to bed hearing shooting and helicopters hovering overhead, and we wake up to see Israeli soldiers just yards from our homes, killing Palestinians in cold blood and depriving us of every human right to which we are entitled, whilst blaming us for the situation and making us look like the villains. So, how does it affect us? In short, it makes us angry. Can you blame us?

All over Palestine, Palestinian villages and cities are facing the same brutality and the same acts of violence, and I ask you, what on earth can justify the murder of innocent Palestinian children? What kind of logic can possibly explain all this killing and cruelty? No wonder I am sad and angry! My friends, be they in Jerusalem, Ramallah, Nablus, Tulkarem, Qalqilya or Gaza are all suffering. We all want justice, but nobody seems to be doing anything to stop the bloodshed, so it is only natural that we are gradually despairing, believing that that light at the end of the tunnel that so many once spoke of is becoming more and more distant.

I used to hear my parents talk about the wars they had been through, but I never really thought that I would go through one myself, yet, here we are, facing what is by all accounts a war situation. Some would argue otherwise, saying that this isn't a war, but I would like to ask them: How do you define war? Isn't war a term for a situation whereby innocent people including children are killed by a foreign occupier? Isn't it war when Israeli soldiers shoot at Palestinians too young to understand the 'crime' for which they are being punished? Yes, the Palestinians are throwing stones - do you blame them? - but how
many Israelis have died or even been seriously injured as a result of being hit by a stone, and how can anyone justifying punishing those responsible for throwing them by killing them?

I was an eyewitness to some of the shootings that took place and I know for a fact that many of the Israeli bullets were directed not towards people in the street, but towards Palestinian homes. I myself was in my house in Beitunia when I saw Israeli bullets
penetrate the walls of my neighbor's building. How am I supposed to feel after witnessing such a thing, and how am I supposed to have faith in a peace process that cannot even promise me safety within the confines of my own home or a good night's sleep for my younger siblings who are being woken up every night by the sound of light bombs being fired in our neighborhood? How can I be expected to convince a tiny child that everything will be okay when I am not convinced myself?

Even attempting to save someone's life seems to have come to be considered a crime by the Israeli soldiers who do not hesitate in firing at ambulances and first-aid teams as they go about their business. With this in mind, I find it impossible to believe that we should continue to negotiate with the State of Israel, which, from my point of view, has stooped to an all-time low in its treatment of the Palestinian people. No, on the contrary, we should have no dealings with the Israelis whatsoever. It is they who are terrorists, and it is they who are killing every hope of peace.

 

A Stone Hurts BUT a Bullet Kills 

 

By Nadine Abu Ata (14 years old)
Jerusalem, Palestine

Not long ago the extreme right wing Israeli leader, Ariel Sharon visited the Holy Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem accompanied by some three thousand Israeli soldiers. Due to his visit, many Arabs worldwide felt obliged to take action to protect the sanctity of the Holy Mosque and that of Jerusalem. Some might ask, "Could it really be that this one visit caused all this trouble?" Well, the truth is, that it was not the visit itself that resulted in such chaos, but rather the fact that it served as a reminder that the Palestinians can no longer put their faith in the so-called peace process, which, for the past eight years, has been unsuccessful in fulfilling the hopes and ambitions of the Palestinian people. In short, the visit simply obliged us to wake up from our dream and accept the fact that our lives are constantly  being jeopardized.

Imagine how Palestinians in general and Palestinian youth in particular feel right now, knowing that the Israeli occupier remains intent on destroying their hope of a better future, challenging our attempts to live in peace and security and killing those we love. As a Palestinian youngster, I am well aware of the fact that my life is in danger, so how should I cope with such a realization? How can I encourage others to be optimistic when I know that the danger to our lives is as real as ever before?

The recent clashes involved a fully armed Israeli army - one of the most heavily armed armies in the world - and Palestinian civilians who, in the vast majority of cases, possessed nothing but stones. Tell me, I beg you, what match are Palestinian stones for Israeli tear gas canisters, live and rubber bullets and tanks? Israeli snipers aim at the hearts and heads of innocent Palestinians, so how can we possibly carry on having faith in the so-called peace process? Am I supposed to ignore what I see on TV, to ignore the fact that the children who are dying had as much right to reach adulthood and lead normal lives as other children throughout the world? Like my friends, I have come to the realization that losing one's life in this country has become an ordinary thing, and that makes me afraid - afraid of what occupation is doing to me, my family, my friends, and to Palestinians all over the county.

I am acquainted with some Israeli youngsters who inevitably find excuses for what the Israeli soldiers and government are doing. They say, for example, that the soldiers are merely defending the Land of Israel, while one went so far as to suggest that if I didn't like what was happening, I would be wise to move with all the other Palestinians to one of the many Arab countries in our region, bearing in mind that the Israelis have nowhere to go except 'Eretz Israel'. Could it possibly be that, after all this time, Israelis have still failed to come to terms with the fact that this is OUR country?

Returning to the demonstrations of support on the part of certain groups of people in various Arab countries, yes, it is nice to see them stand by the Palestinians and voice their opinions by demonstrating and trying to show the media and the world the truth. It is good to know that others are ready to defend the Holy Land, which is considered sacred by all Palestinians, be they Muslims or Christians. But, the  fact  remains:  the Palestinians are still dying, while those still alive have come to believe that there is no way out of the terrible situation we are facing except to sacrifice our lives, hoping that the media and the international community will eventually come to realize the full extent of our suffering and put pressure on Israel to bring it to an end.

A stone can hurt, it is true, but, the fact is, that Israeli soldiers are shooting not to defend themselves, but in order to kill as many Palestinians as possible, and it is this fact upon which the world should now concentrate.

 

The Shattered Dream

 

By Saleem Habash (18 years old)
The Youth Times, Ramallah, Palestine

I once believed in peace. I even took part in the efforts to help it materialize, truly believing that the day would soon come when peace would prevail all over the world. Yes, I believed in peace, and I dreamt about it every night*but as everyone knows, dreams
have a nasty habit of never coming true, and now, I no longer dream of peace. Why? Because even as I write, I hear the sound of shooting, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get the sound of the 'zaghrouteh' of a martyr's mother out of my head.

Many young Palestinians had dreams similar to mine. Asel Aseli, 17, for example, dreamt of peace. In fact, he was shot whilst wearing a Seeds of Peace T-shirt. This same T-shirt in which he was buried, was about to be delivered to around 300 other youngsters whom he was hoping would, with a little encouragement, soon come to believe in his idea of peace. He lived in Arrabeh, a Palestinian village in what is now known as Israel, and it was there that he endured the bitter life of an Arab-Israeli, a life marked by discrimination and an inability to have at least the voice of a minority, in spite of the fact that the Arabs in Israel account for more than 25 percent of  the  overall population. When Asel was killed, his dream was killed too, as was mine*

Another story that helped in dispelling the myth called peace is that of 12-year-old Mohammed Al-Dorrah, who died whilst taking shelter behind his father, Jamal. Sadly, the huge amount of live ammunition being fired in their direction made it impossible for Jamal to fulfill his fatherly duty and protect his son, who died in his lap amidst the voices of reporters, standing but a few meters away, and crying trough their tears, "The boy has died, the boy has died." What was Mohammed's crime? Accompanying his father whilst he tried to gain a fair price for the family car, which he had been obliged to put up for sale in order to secure the school expenses of Mohammed and his brothers and sisters.

Yet another story, another child*Sara Abdel-Haq was only two years old when Israeli bullets shattered her skull as her father and cousin were driving her to hospital for treatment for a lung infection. The cousin, who was also shot, survived, but Sara died. She, too, has helped in spreading the truth.

Other stories*other children*other martyrs*yet the tears are all as bitter. To date, 90 Palestinians have died in the 'days of anger', whilst some 3,000 - 40 percent of whom are under the age of 18 - have been injured. It is ironic that Israel, a country that has signed the Convention of the Rights of the Child, sees nothing wrong in pointing its guns at innocent children, children who appear to have no rights whatsoever, least of all the right to live, and whose lives are characterized by fear and pain, which is gradually turning into anger.

Right now, the 11th day of the 'days of anger', our lives are at a standstill. The gates of our schools and universities remain closed, as do those of the vast majority of Palestinian shops and factories. What this means, amongst other things, is that our children are being deprived of something that can never be replaced - their childhood. Even were the schools to open today, could the classmates of Mohammed Al-Dorrah be expected to return to their studies without displaying any signs of psychological torment after seeing the footage of the last moment's of their friend's life and then his cold-blooded murder over and over again?

Over the past 11 days, the Israelis have violated the rights of Palestinian children according to the Convention on the Rights of the Child in several ways. Looking at Article 54 of the Convention, however, I realized that the various violations could be summarized in one, namely, the violation of a child's right to life. That right has been taken away from the Palestinian children, and here I refer not only to those who have died, but also to those who still live, for all of them are fighting in order to survive, if not the Israeli bullets, then certainly the fear and anguish that haunts them every minute of the day.

We, the Palestinians, young and old, are sick of the huge 'joke' that Israel and the rest of the world seems intent on playing on us, which is why I say to the international community, listen to the pleas of Palestinian children and stop Israeli guns from shedding more blood NOW! If - and I hope this is not the case - my words have failed to move you, then take another look at the footage of Mohammad Al-Dorrah as he dies in his father's lap and remember that you are looking not at a criminal, not at a terrorist, but at an innocent, 12-year-old child. Can you hear us now?

 

 

"Gaza Bends Only to God"
 

By Tareq Shehadeh (16 years old) 

The Youth Times, Gaza, Palestine

I am a 16-year-old boy from Gaza. I lived through the Intifada, and now I am living through the so-called state of peace, yet like before, my eyes are full of tears and my head of terrible news. I ask you, what difference is there between the Intifada years and now?

We, the people of Gaza, did enjoy a period of peace and tranquility, but no longer. No, suddenly, everything changed, and now we go to sleep to the sound of the ambulances racing along our streets and the sound of shooting and the helicopters above our heads, so close that we can see their occupants clearly. The world is far away from these things, yet I live only five kilometers from the Martyrs' Junction, the scene of but one of many Israeli massacres, and while the world listens about what is going on here on the radio or watches it on TV, I actually live through the events that provide the world with  so  much entertainment.

It certainly doesn't appear that the recent wave of clashes is about to end. On the contrary, people say that the number of bullets fired over the past five days exceeds the number shot during the entire Intifada. All we are doing is asking for our rights - nothing more, nothing less - but look at the Israeli response! An Israeli commander, for example, said the following: "The one who stands under the rain will get wet." But what about all the innocent people, men, women, and children, who got wet whilst not even standing in the rain?

I want to know, will my younger brother learn to understand why my father has let his beard grow, or why my mother buries her head in her hands and cries? What horrible crime did my sister, who wakes up every night and cries for her mother, commit?

Let the world come and see what is happening to us, and let it come now. Let it see for itself how the hospitals in Gaza are full of wounded and are no longer able to accept new patients, of which there are many, thanks to the Israeli soldiers who beat up people in their homes and attack everyone in sight, even innocent journalists.

Whoever said that the people of Gaza don't want peace is a liar! They - including my relative, who was unable to bury his martyred son because of the closure, yes, even him - all want peace, but they want a just peace, not the kind of peace that makes men cry, those same men who now say to Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak, "Gaza bends only to God."

 

 

My Eyesight is the Price
 

By Murad Bustami (19 years old)

The Youth Times, Jerusalem, Palestine

In order to understand the extent of the eye injuries sustained during the recent clashes, I visited the Saint Joseph Hospital in Jerusalem, which specializes in treating eye problems. During my visit, I spoke to a few of the patients there, whose stories you
can find below.

Hashem Al-Salymeh, 29, from the Old City of Jerusalem, was shot in the eye during the recent clashes at Al-Aqsa Mosque. "The Israeli soldiers, special squads and border police positioned themselves in the streets and alleyways of the Old City prior to the Friday prayer on 29 September," said Al-Salymeh. "As soon as the prayer ended, the soldiers started firing in all directions, making no distinction between men and women or young people and old people. As I tried to assist the wounded, a rubber bullet hit me in my left eye, and now the doctors at St. Joseph tell that because it damaged my retina, there's a good chance I'll lose the sight in that eye."

Al-Salymeh continued, saying, "By visiting Al-Aqsa Mosque, Sharon intended to refresh his memory of the massacres he committed against the Palestinians in Sabra and Shatila in Lebanon. As for the soldier who shot me, I have the following message: 'Don't laugh too hard. Although you are armed with all kinds of weapons, you have no just mission. Unlike you, we fight to defend our holy places, and although today is yours, tomorrow will definitely be ours.'"

Omar Shalowdi, 31, who is also from the Old City of Jerusalem, became another victim of Israeli bullets. He told me, "On Friday 29 September 2000 I was shot by a rubber bullet that damaged my retina and caused internal bleeding. I say to the soldiers, if you want to save Israeli lives, then you have to act in a legal way, not fire at innocent victims like you did at Al-Aqsa. It is totally unacceptable for you to violate the holiness of our holy places and provoke our people."

Ahmad Fararjeh, 20, from Dheisheh refugee camp in Bethlehem was hit by three bullets, two in the eye and one in his arm. "A sniper fired at me twice during the clashes at the northern entrance of Bethlehem," said Fararjeh," who went on to say, "We will have our revenge, sooner or later."

Fararjeh, who praised the Palestinian Authority and its role in evacuating the wounded, concluded by saying, "I gave up the most precious part of my body for the sake of Al-Aqsa and I am ready to give up more for the sake of Palestine."

Omar Diab, 26, was hit in the left eye by a rubber bullet. "One day Islam will reign victorious and regain control of the holy places," said Diab. "I am ready to give more for the sake of Palestine and I ask the entire Arab and Muslim worlds to refrain from keeping silent when faced with the provocative Israeli measures and instead, to join us in fighting the occupation," he added.

Alla' Badran, 12, from the Old City of Jerusalem lost the sight in one of his eyes after being shot. Said Badran, "Whilst visiting my relatives in Qalandia, I went to fetch some things from a shop and was hit in the eye by a bullet." At this point, his mother interjected to say that only one day before the incident, Badran's five-and-a-half-year-old brother had been hit in the face by a rubber bullet.

Khaled Khamis, 26, from Beit Ommar, Hebron, was also shot during the clashes at the northern entrance of Bethlehem. The bullet that hit him left him with both a broken nose and a damaged retina. "People have to fight," said Khamis, "knowing that whatever the soldiers do, they shouldn't be able to stop us."

One of the nurses at the hospital noted that the number of casualties who arrived at the hospital on Saturday 30 September 2000 reached eight, and that of the eight, five lost the sight in one eye. She added that all of the wounded were hit by rubber bullets in the left eye.

A Different Kind of Support

By Dina Awwad (17 years old)
The Youth Times, Beit Sahour, Palestine

It is hard to convey my feelings concerning the current situation but I feel I need to try. After all, people are dying for their country, while their homes are being destroyed. As for the schools, they remain closed, and children are obliged to stay at home wondering when - or even if - they'll go back to school and, instead of studying, spent most of their time watching the news, trying to keep abreast of what is going on. Even as they do so, the Israeli soldiers continue their attacks, sparing little or no concern for who they kill or injure in the process: children, young men, old men, women, journalists*. these days, no one can consider himself excluded from the list of potential targets, not even a small child, surrounded by the arms of a parent.

People are afraid, and they don't know what to do, except hope that they don't lose their children or more of their land and that one day, the land they have already lost will be returned. Some 90 young men have already died in the recent clashes. How could that happen? How could the Israelis slaughter them like animals and get away with it? .

It is true that the Arab countries are supporting us by providing us with medical supplies, but we need another kind of support now, namely, political support, which, if comprehensive, should help us succeed in kicking the Israelis out of our homes and our land. That is what we need now, nothing more, nothing less.

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