My friend Susan Abulhawa - Palestinian author and changemaker - recently returned from Gaza. She spent two weeks there; delivering aid for animals and people, running workshops to support Palestinian people under siege to tell their own stories; and checking in on friends and family.
She didn't want to leave - Israel cancelled Humanitarian visas. Until she can enter again, Susan has been publishing her accounts of this brief time in Gaza. These pieces are haunting and honest. The devastation and state violence is much worse than what we've seen online.
I'll post her articles in this thread as they're published. And the videos she's produced. And urge everyone to read/watch.
Susan Abulhawa: "I thought I understood the situation on the ground. But I didn’t.
Nothing can truly prepare you for this dystopia. What reaches the rest of the world is a fraction of what I’ve seen so far, which is only a fraction of this horror’s totality.
Gaza is hell. It is an inferno teeming with innocents gasping for air.
But even the air here is scorched. Every breath scratches and sticks to the throat and lungs.
What was once vibrant, colorful, full of beauty, potential and hope against all odds, is draped in gray-colored misery and grime.
Barely any trees
Journalists and politicians call it war. The informed and honest call it genocide.
What I see is a holocaust – the incomprehensible culmination of 75 years of Israeli impunity for persistent war crimes."
Susan Abulhawa: "They feel guilty to have survived so far. They feel privileged because they have food, however rancid or inadequate, while their friends, neighbors and other family members are slowly starving in northern and north-middle areas.
These are people who walked for hours with their hands up, mocked and taunted by Israeli soldiers along the way, terrified of looking down or bending to pick something up because that was cause for a sniper’s bullet, a fate many met along the way. Nearly everyone had their belongings looted by soldiers, who littered the road with whatever they didn’t want."
Susan Abulhawa: "Eventually, soldiers entered. “At least 80 of them,” she said. They separated the men from the women and children, stripping the former to nothing but their boxers in the dead of winter. The women and children were crammed into a small storage room, the men split into two classrooms. For three nights and four days, they listened to the screams of their husbands, fathers, and brothers being beaten and tortured in the other rooms, until finally, soldiers ordered the women, in broken Arabic, to take their children and “go south”.
All the women complied, except Nina. “I didn’t care anymore. I was ready to die but I wasn’t going to leave without my husband.” She ran into the rooms where the men were being held, calling Hamad’s name. None dared respond. It was dark and soldiers were pulling her away. She fought them as they laughed, seemingly amused by her hysteria. “Crazy,” they called her.
She recognised her husband’s red boxers in the second room and rushed to him, pulling his blindfold off, kissing him, hugging him, promising to die with him if that’s what it took. She alternated between cursing the soldiers and begging them to release her husband. Eventually, they cut the plastic ties and let him go.
But she wasn’t done. As Hamad walked away, she went back inside to gather clothes for him and for her uncles sitting naked in the cold. They wouldn’t be released yet for weeks. Some of those men would be executed.
Eventually, soldiers entered. “At least 80 of them,” she said. They separated the men from the women and children, stripping the former to nothing but their boxers in the dead of winter. The women and children were crammed into a small storage room, the men split into two classrooms. For three nights and four days, they listened to the screams of their husbands, fathers, and brothers being beaten and tortured in the other rooms, until finally, soldiers ordered the women, in broken Arabic, to take their children and “go south”.
All the women complied, except Nina. “I didn’t care anymore. I was ready to die but I wasn’t going to leave without my husband.” She ran into the rooms where the men were being held, calling Hamad’s name. None dared respond. It was dark and soldiers were pulling her away. She fought them as they laughed, seemingly amused by her hysteria. “Crazy,” they called her.
She recognised her husband’s red boxers in the second room and rushed to him, pulling his blindfold off, kissing him, hugging him, promising to die with him if that’s what it took. She alternated between cursing the soldiers and begging them to release her husband. Eventually, they cut the plastic ties and let him go.
But she wasn’t done. As Hamad walked away, she went back inside to gather clothes for him and for her uncles sitting naked in the cold. They wouldn’t be released yet for weeks. Some of those men would be executed."
Susan Abulhawa: "The sisters and their family moved a few times seeking safety, taking the cats each time, until the home where they were staying was targeted with a missile. It was late evening, most on the third-floor apartment were already asleep.
Ghada sat next to her mother, chatting as they often did before bed. She didn’t hear the missile. In fact, nearly everyone says that people inside a targeted home don’t hear the bomb. They say if you can hear it, then know you’re far enough away.
Instead, Ghada described seeing a flash of red light before feeling a weight on her back. Her arm was strangely twisted around her neck and over her head.
But there was no sound, until she began to hear the cracks of falling debris. She saw her limbs bouncing under the weight of broken concrete that hit and twisted her legs before her.
Dust burned and blinded her eyes. She tried to feel around for her mother, but she wasn’t sure her hand was actually moving.
“Ummi [my mother],” she called, but no response came."
Susan Abulhawa, activist and writer, recently returned to Gaza again. In the below video, she shares first-hand observations of the situation in Gaza, from the massacre site where Nasser hospital once stood. And a heartfelt message to students and other protestors around the world.
@KarenWyld@palestine She's an incredible woman. She even brought animal food with her each time for Sulala Rescue (the only official #animal#rescue in #Gaza). I will absolutely send a donation.
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