Archive for January 2010
the last oranges
“Children don’t lie. Slap them in the face and they tell you what they know,” Sameh*, a night watchman, says. The 18 year old was on night shift at Maowwiya elementary school north of Attatra’s Salateen street, Beit Lahiya, when the Israeli land invasion began.
Three days after the 18 January 2009 ceasefire, still shaken from his experience, Sameh recounted how the Israelis occupied the school and used it as a prison and interrogation centre, before bombing it. A year later, the blast holes still gape through the school’s walls and the missing floor has not been replaced.
“It was around 8am, January 4th, the first morning of the ground invasion. Israeli tanks came to the school. I started to run but the Israeli soldiers ordered me to stop. They pointed their guns at me and told me to take off my clothes.”
His voice trembles and face crumbles as he relives the pain and fear of his experience.
“They kept me for two days, didn’t let me dress during that time, didn’t give me food or water, and kept interrogating me, telling me to work with them, collaborate. I refused.” post continues
rescuers targeted, one year on
**ambulance which Arafa Abd al Dayem was loading when he was shelled by an Israeli tank missile, dying shortly after of his injuries. The ambulance was unrecoverable until two days ago, when access finally became possible to the Attrata area where Arafa was murderded and where corpses lay unretrieved.
The Electronic Intifada, 22 January 2010 By Eva Bartlett
**blog version with added text
“The last Israeli attacks were the hardest, the most dangerous. It wasn’t a war, it was a massacre. They shot anyone walking, anyone outside of their home, in their home … it didn’t matter. And it didn’t matter if the victims were children or adults; there was no difference.”
Ali Khalil, 47, has served as a medic with the Palestine Red Crescent Society (PRCS) and private hospitals in Gaza for more than 20 years. He has seen some of the worst atrocities committed by the Israeli army. During Israel’s war on Gaza last winter, Khalil worked in Gaza’s northern region, venturing repeatedly into high-risk areas bombarded by Israeli tanks, helicopters and warplanes to rescue the injured and retrieve the dead.
During the 23-day invasion, the Israeli army warplanes, drones, warships, tanks and snipers rendered entire areas off-limits and impossible for ambulances and civil defense fire and rescue trucks to reach. In the north, Ezbet Abed Rabbo and Attatra, east and northwest of Jabaliya, respectively, were among the districts occupied by the Israeli army.
Through the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), Palestinian rescuers were sometimes able to coordinate with the Israeli army to gain access to areas they controlled.
“We’d wait five hours, even over 30 hours, for coordination from the Israelis to enter the area to retrieve wounded or martyred,” says Khalil. “And much of the time, we wouldn’t get it.”
Even coordination, however, did not ensure access or safety.
flooding Gaza
The long-awaited rains came full force.
Dehydrated Gaza was suddenly awash. And while farmers are overjoyed –they can finally plant their crops; their water wells and cisterns were destroyed during the Israeli massacre of Gaza; they must plant before the end of the month or there will be no point [we got a call right away to accompany farmers close to the border fence]–the rains brought disaster to families in flooded areas of Gaza. post continues
“This is life:” remembering earlier massacres in Gaza
| Ahmad Hammad |
Electronic Intifada, Live from Palestine By Eva Bartlett
It’s a sunny day in the border region east of Beit Hanoun. Aside from a glaring absence of the citrus and olive trees which for decades abounded on this fertile land, finally razed by Israeli military bulldozers, all seems idyllic.
“This is the first time I’ve returned here since my friends were killed,” Ahmad Hammad says. He stands at the edge of a vacant plot and gestures to its far end which lies over 1 km from the border separating Israel and the Gaza Strip. “They were over there, I was standing here,” he explains.
Hammad, 24, recalls the day two years ago when three of his friends, all in their early twenties, were torn apart by an Israeli-fired surface-to-surface missile. post continues
Siege-Induced Poverty Drowns Wedding Dreams
GAZA CITY, Jan 14, 2010 (IPS) By Eva Bartlett- “If we had money we’d get married right away,” says Samir*, 23. He has found his bride, but not the money to hold the wedding.
The Israeli siege imposed shortly after Hamas’s election in early 2006 has ruled out marriage for many. Palestinians traditionally marry young, between 18 and 25, but more and more now pass their mid-twenties single.
With unemployment levels above 45 percent, and the price of most goods doubled or more, living, and marrying, are becoming unaffordable. post continues
one boy
With over 90% of Palestinian children in Gaza suffering PTSD, and over 80% severe poverty in the Strip, Nidal Abu Leila is but one of many children dramatically affected by the 23 days of Israeli warfare on Gaza.
Prior to the December 27 to January 18 Israeli massacre of Gaza–during which Israel used its power as the 4th largest military, unleashing an arsenal of F-16 bombing, Apache and tank shelling and machine gun fire, shelling from Israeli warships in Gaza’s sea, bulldozing and explosive– Nidal was a normal boy of 10 years. He ran, he played, he studied, he was as mischievous and energetic as life in Gaza under siege allows.
“When the Israelis shelled our house, there was also heavy tank shooting in the area. There were Israeli tanks all around. So much noise, so much danger. Nidal couldn’t take it,” said his father.
Since the massacre, Nidal has lost his ability to speak, doesn’t think or concentrate clearly, and walks with a crippled gait.
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struggle for freedom
On the return to Gaza from visiting families living in tents and other families whose lives have been dramatically altered by the Israeli war on Gaza, the taxi driver nonchalantly shares his own problems.
“My son is 18 and deaf. He went to a school for the deaf and, thankfully, got an education. But after high school he had to stop studying. Now he mainly stays at home. He tries to help out, tries to add to our income. Sometimes he’ll bring water to people in the area for 1 shekel a piece. Sometimes he’ll move or carry things for them.| post continues
tragic smile
Nidal crouches by the front door, looks up and smiles with bright eyes as we walk past. Bright eyes, a large grin, and that is all.
Nothing strikes me as unusual in the ten year old when he doesn’t leap up to greet us as most kids do. Maybe he is pre-occupied with his thoughts, an unseen toy. Maybe he is tired.
Only when we come back out of the bombed-out house 30 minutes later do I notice he is still crouched in the same hunched position, still quiet.
He sees us and again flashes a bright grin. Irresistible.
“He doesn’t speak,” says his grandfather, Saleh Abu Leila. “And he can’t walk normally. In fact, his mind is gone,” he says, summarizing Nidal’s state post-war on Gaza.
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remembering Arafa Abd El Dayem and the emergency workers, today, everyday
On this day [4 January] one year ago, 4 Palestinian paramedics were assassinated by Israeli forces. By the end of the Israeli massacre of Gaza, 16 emergency workers had been killed by Israeli soldiers, all while performing their duties, all in contravention of international law and the Geneva Conventions. Another 57 were injured by Israeli attacks. At least 16 ambulances were damaged with at least nine completely destroyed.
*Arafa Abd El Dayem, photo unknown
Arafa Abd El Dayem was killed in Beit Lahiya, northern Gaza, as he and other paramedics and emergency workers answered the call of civilians targeted by an Israeli missile strike. Although wearing their universally identifiable medic uniforms and with clearly marked ambulances, Israeli tanks fired a flechette bomb at the group of rescuers and injured civilians. Arafa died from wounds sustained by the dart bomb, which tore into his internal organs. post continues
Saber, patience
“I haven’t been on my land since we harvested the wheat last August. It’s too dangerous. There was an Israeli operation here yesterday…6 tanks and 4 bulldozers. I could see them from my rooftop in the village, but didn’t know if they’d destroyed my land.”
Abdul Nasser Abu Taima has 15 dunams of agricultural land roughly 400 m from the Green Line border dividing Gaza and Israel. Until a few years ago, he had a home on and lived off the land. Israeli bulldozers destroyed his house and razed his land. post continues














