Gaza: Life goes on despite Roadblocks and Landmines

Gaza: Life goes on despite Roadblocks and Landmines

Behind those trees there is a fence a few meters away

with Israeli tanks and watchtowers behind it. Its dangerous

to get closer and take pics. They might open fire.

Gaza, January, I recently realized that my journey in life is in parallel with Gaza's struggle, we meet at a turning point, and if I had to name it would be: "Roadblocks and Landmines". This has both a literal and a figurative meaning with many layers and dimensions.

We navigate through the maps of our lives left to detect our own roadblocks and landmines if we are smart enough, and\or circle them with a red marker if they were inevitable. Either way, it's our responsibility to manage our path and lick our wounds if we couldn’t help hitting a 

roadblock or stepping on explosives.

Gaza, too, left to face the unknown on its own, left to suffer silently and expected to stay strong. 

Gaza, too, is filled with roadblocks and landmines both literally and metaphorically speaking. Gaza, too, is left to navigate through the darkness guided by voices that claim to have intentions of creating light, but in reality they are nothing but loud useless vibrations.

I often commended Israel for its intelligence, and was intrigued by their tactical and long termed strategic planning of how to kill the spirit of a nation they occupied. I saw the plan in action here in Gaza. We all think we are experiencing slow death due to siege, occupation, unemployment, the lack of freedom of movement, water shortage, electricity crisis and the list goes on and on and on…..

Until I started noticing something in myself and in the people around me. something unexpected. Unplanned. very surprising. A sudden sense of unbreakable determination. Being invincible, like we have the strength to defy the world and the power to stand against all odds. I smirked. I just realized that what "clever Israel" planned is actually majorly backfiring. And in reality, everything we are going through is just empowering us to exist more and more.

Ofcourse, I am not finding or giving Israel excuses for the deplorable psychological and devastatingly physical warfare that it uses against Palestinians across Palestine. All the inhumanity, massacres, wars, imprisonment, terrorism, instilling fear, violence, internationally banned weaponry and endless land theft are against every International law. All I am saying is that those tactics are actually working against their set goal.

Let me give you a few examples: Instead of us being scared, we are becoming fearless. Instead of weakness, we are becoming invincible. Instead of the unbearable pressure due to lack of resources, we are mastering the art of adapting. Instead of becoming tired and giving up, we are becoming hungrier for freedom and justice.

I admired Mahmoud Darwish since an early age, I was fascinated by his command. He managed to make a whole room of people go silent and absorb every letter he uttered, I often wondered what was his secret. I then discovered that he managed to grasp Palestine and the Palestinian spirit more than anyone especially when he says things like "We suffer from an incurable Malady: HOPE.", that’s the power of Palestinians and Darwish himself.

Take a trip along the borderline in Gaza, from south to north, you'll find people living inches away from the fence that separates them from Israeli tanks and watchtowers. They wake up every day to a very scenic view from their windows, they see fully armed Israeli soldiers on top of their tanks and watchtowers, they can even hear them interact. They feel and hear every movement done by each soldier and tank. And if that wasn’t enough, Israeli warplanes are constantly buzzing over their heads.

I talked to these people, who shocked me with their smiles. They were acting like waking up to Israeli tanks outside your window is so normal, it baffled me.

"We got used to it, they don’t phase us. Yes, we get scared at night hearing tanks move and Israeli soldiers shouting. The warplanes also sound louder at night, but we would never leave our land under any circumstances", they all said unanimously adding to my confusion.

Those people varied. Some lived in partially damaged houses, some were luckier and lived in rebuilt houses while others lived in caravans or little plastic huts on their land that once housed their dreams and future. They barely have electricity and water (its not much different everywhere across the strip), they face unbearable coldness and fear at night, yet they don’t see leaving as an option even though they were all affected by every Israeli assault or war on Gaza.

I have to admit, only standing there for a few minutes, looking at Israeli tanks being so nearby, left me at unease. I could see Israeli snipers on the watchtowers, I could see and hear the buzzing Israeli drones on low altitude. I felt uncomfortable and violated. How can those people just live through this agony every day?

Yes, we live in a prison under collective punishment for nothing we did. We suffer from allot of circumstances, injustices, economical bust, a crumbling infrastructure, lack of basic human needs and human rights, suffocation, unemployment and a million other thing. But we love life and we burst with hope and the will to keep going.

Perhaps there is a single sentence that you'd hear in every Gaza home or street: "Life goes on", its not just a saying or a mantra, it’s a way of life.

From Gaza with strength and light,

Omar

https://twitter.com/omar_gaza

https://ps.linkedin.com/in/omarghraieb

Paris March of Hypocrisy

Paris March of Hypocrisy

Gaza, January, Once again, the world fails me but doesn’t fail to impress me with how biased it can be. Two words: Paris March. It made me feel like this: I am an Arab, I am less. I am Muslim, I am less. I am Palestinian, I am less. I am human, I am less. My blood means nothing.

World leaders (including Arabs, and the Palestinian president) marched in Paris to support the “Freedom of Speech” and stand against terrorism. Netanyahu, Israeli Prime Minister, was front raw ofcourse because he is against violence which is why he waged a war on Gaza not long ago killing hundreds, including tens of children. Netanyahu loves “freedom of speech” so much that he killed 17 Palestinian journalists during the latest war on Gaza.

As if the death of Muslim officer, Ahmed Merabet, who was doing his job defending Charlie Hebdo HQ.s wasn’t enough, and the French Muslim Hero (whom, in reality, doesn’t have the French Citizenship) that saved Jewish lives during the attack on a Kosher supermarket, still isn’t enough. I will have to once again say I am against Paris attacks, as a Muslim and a human being. Although words are louder than actions, yet nothing defends Muslims enough no matter what they do or say.

Charlie Hebdo will start printing one million copies instead of the usual 60 thousands. Talk about publicizing and monetizing tragedy. Just wondering why no mention in the media about Nigeria's Boko Haram Killings? Arent those also Islamic Extremists?

Only few months ago, many innocent lives were harvested in Gaza by the evil terrorism of occupation including tens of children and a number of journalists. Why didn’t any world leader come to Gaza and march? Why didn’t Arab leaders visit Gaza and speak up against Israel? Why did my own president visit Paris yet didn’t visit Gaza after it was burned by Israel?

The answer is simple and easy. Our lives don’t matter. Our blood is cheap. As humans, we are less. I cant help but respect Europe for honoring their blood and forcing the whole world to do so. But as an Arab, I feel ashamed and let down. We once were a nation that was the most advanced, respected and imitated. But now, our blood is worthless, even in our own eyes.

Paris urged Netanyahu not to come to the march, he wasn’t invited. Haaretz wrote about it. Hollande, the French President, wanted to focus on the matter in hand and didn’t want any other spotlight to deviate the attention to other mundane issues, say for example the Israel-Palestine conflict. Yet, Netanyahu, and as usual, did whatever he liked without giving a damn about what others think. So he attended uninvited. Just like he keeps killing Palestinians. The world won’t stop him after all.

Only then did France invite the Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, who was also asked not to come at first. And ofcourse, Abbas rushed over there. So we are not considered equals. If Netanyahu didn’t come uninvited, Abbas wouldn’t have been invited. Why did Abbas decide to go march and walk side beside with leaders who failed Palestine so many times? Why didn’t he visit Gaza after the Israeli war? Its beyond me. Oh, and Netanyahu was only a few feet away.

Which brings me to a very sad melodramatic conclusion: The world is so obviously blunt about my worth as an Arab Muslim Palestinian. I AM NOTHING. Many countries think I don’t exist, and those who recognize my existence do it in a symbolic way. I am already considered as a terrorist even when I am not. As a holder of Palestinian passport, I need a visa everywhere, and nowhere would grant me a visa unless I pay loads of money or ask for a divine intervention. And when\if I make it, I will be interrogated, searched and perhaps strip searched at most airports. I will have a target on my back everywhere I go. I am under the microscope. I am forced to respect and support all freedoms even though the world denies me my basic human rights. I will be labeled, narrowed down, ridiculed and automatically seen as a suspect of any incident around the world. Freedom of speech is exclusive for the West.

Ironic how I feel like my life’s mission is to fight for human rights when I, myself, don’t exercise any basic human rights. It’s actually funny and a little melancholic. Don’t you think?

But the question remains: Till when will I keep fighting for ultimate equality when most don’t even care about my blood, worth or rights? I honestly don’t know.

I might get fed up one day soon. And I might end up in California, become a plastic boy and binge on Sangrias all day. Oh wait, that’s only if the US gives me another Visa. And I don’t end up being jailed or spied on because I am an Arab and a Muslim. Sigh. Now even silly dreams are not an option.



From Gaza with whatever love left inside,

Omar Ghraieb

Why I am not Charlie Hebdo

  Why I am not Charlie Hebdo

Gaza, January, If you haven’t heard about the "Paris attacks" you probably have been living in a parallel universe. And if you did, then you probably didn’t hear about the police officer Ahmad Merabet, a Muslim, who died while trying to defend Charlie Hebdo even though they were insulting his religion.

#JesuisCharlie hashtag took over the world and the cyber sphere, people from around the world rushed to show their support to Charlie and ofcourse took a chance to attack Muslims spewing all kinds of profanities and racial commentary. A campaign to #KillAllMuslims was launched by those who support Charlie, ironically. They think violence is the answer to violence. How ignorant can people be is beyond me.

Muslims, as usual, rushed to declare their innocence by trending the #NotinMyName hashtag that is trending often since Islam and Muslims are constantly under the microscope.

I am not Charlie, nor did I participate in the #JeSuisCharlie phenomena. I also didn’t participate in the “Not in my name” campaign as a Muslim. Why you ask? I will tell you.

Lets me start by saying that the world doesn’t think all lives equally matter. I condemn Paris attacks. Yes, I think of Charlie as a racist who manipulates Satire into insulting religions to get his few minutes of fame and become a hero. However, I don’t believe that violence is the solution and I condemn Paris attacks. Killing 12 people doesn’t help, did it ever? No. It never did. Islam never asked us to kill in its name. ISIS are already doing enough to deform Islam and make it look like a religion that is based on terrorism, we don’t need to add to that. Even if the world denies me of all freedoms, I still strongly believe in them and support them.

Murders, killings and crimes are committed every day by people from different nationalities, backgrounds and religions but they are never labeled or narrowed down to a certain race or religion unless they are Black, Arab or Muslim. If you are all three, then you will probably be a suspect even if you did nothing and happened to be passing by an incident.

I will not defend myself or my religion simply because not every individual represents their nationality or religion. Some people are stupid and they do mistakes. Stupidity and terrorism have no religion. So blame the person not their background. And judge yourself before you judge others because you are not perfect and if you feel like all Muslims should be killed because two Muslims committed a crime, then you are no better.

I am perplexed by a world that is so biased. Where were those who defended rights, freedoms and journalism when Israel was blowing Gaza up killing children and journalists? Where were they when Muslims were going through mass killings in Burma? Or is the European blood more worthy than other blood? Or are freedoms exclusive to Europe only and shouldn’t be defended everywhere else as well? Or are Muslims and Islam easy targets and speaking up against Israel is a taboo?

I stood with Paris against the attacks even though Paris didn’t stand by me or Gaza. They tried hard to oppress and prevent protests in our support when Israel was burning Gaza and the government stood still. Yet, I am the one who need to be defending myself as a Muslim? Why? And how is that fair?

I am not Charlie. Je Suis pas Charlie. Je Suis Gaza, Je Suis Muslim, Je Suis Palestinien, Je Suis Palestine and Je Suis Ahmed. I am Gaza, I am Muslim, I am Palestinian, I am Palestine , I am Ahmed and that doesn’t mean I am a terrorist. I will not defend myself because I did nothing. I stood by Paris yet France only recently and symbolically recognized Palestine. So for the past 26 years of my life I didn’t exist in France’s eyes. Yet I support Paris. Because I am a human being, a Muslim, Arab and Palestinian. I don’t condone the killing of innocent people and I support all freedoms and equality, yup, believe it or not. My dream is ultimate freedom and equality.

I will never be like Charlie but I would definitely look forward of being equal to Charlie. When I feel like my life matters, my blood is worthy, when I live in an equal world that will stand by me like I am willing to stand by it. When the world recognizes that I exist and gives me my rights. When people defend all innocent people the same. I will be Charlie when I find any authenticity in what he does and in the world we live in.

From Gaza with dreams of peace and equality,

Omar Ghraieb

Gaza: Dont hit her

Gaza: Don’t hit her

Gaza, December, We grow up being lectured about courage and taking risks and how exhilarating it is. They make it sound like the right thing to do. Until we become adults and we start getting lectured about not taking risks and hearing pro-cowardice sayings like this Arabic one that says: “Cowardice makes two thirds of manhood”, meaning: “When shit hits the fan, RUN”.

“Manhood” and many other terms are being deformed recently in the Arabic region and also the world, but I will come to that later on in future posts.

I saw a man in the street, exiting his house, arguing with his wife then BAM. He smacked her across the face. It was like a scene from a movie. She held her face and started crying, he had visible signs of anguish on his face, they both saw me standing there, and I myself was frozen. Stunned, perplexed, speechless and thinking.

Gaza is like most Arab countries\cities. A little society that is conservative and mainly fueled by traditions. Old, very old ones, that are usually confused with religious rituals. Long story short, if you are a smart person and you saw what I saw, DO NOT INTERFERE between a wife and her man. Just walk away. Unfortunately, I am not smart enough when it comes to domestic violence or violence against women. I was never beaten up as a child and never saw my family or friends use violence against women or each other so I refuse all kinds of violence.

I thought to myself: “So whats the worst case scenario Omar “The Hero of Stupidity”? You say something to the man and you end up getting into a fight which might turn ugly since he can call on his sons and neighborhood backup males. I would appear wrong for interfering and get beaten up. Or he would be a gentleman and just give me a black eye. Or he might listen to me (Ha Yeah right)”. So I decided whatever the outcome is, I am going for it. I would rather get beaten up than feel bad about not saying anything. (Don’t judge, I said I am not smart enough)

I found myself uttering: DO NOT HIT HER, AGAIN”. And hell opened. I distracted him from her but now he got all angry, red faced, cursing me loudly and heading towards me. “Don’t flinch or move a muscle, treat him like you learned how to act around a deadly snake”, I said to myself.

He came and stood right in my face, screaming and spitting. I acted cold and calm as quiet ice (quiet ice? Whatever). 

“Uncle, I am not trying to interfere. You are a respectable man and your wife is a good woman, you don’t want people to misjudge you. Consider me your son”, I said impressing myself but he wasn’t impressed. “You are not my fucking son”, he spat. I knew this means trouble.

I saw his wife making signs to me from behind telling me to stop this and just leave. He saw her. She then told me she doesn’t need my help, she loves her husband, its ok if he hits her and begged me to leave.

The man started going back and forth. Furious. Brushing his hair. I think he was considering his next move. So I jumped in quickly telling him I don’t judge him and I will not tell anyone but its obvious how much he loves his wife and that hitting women isn’t cool. Then I regretted saying “cool”. Like he would care about what’s cool and what isn’t.

To my surprise, he invited me to his house. I thought of politely declining. I knew it has to mean that I am either gonna get killed or kidnapped or beaten. But then he looked into my eyes and suddenly I trusted him. (Again, I am sometimes idiotic, don’t judge). Besides, we live in the same neighborhood, its not like my family wont figure it out and claim my body. (I hope they do)

He asked me all the formal questions, told me he knew my dad (Phew maybe a good sign) and begged me not to call the police or report him to anyone. I said I wouldn’t. But I got scared because it felt like I will end up sympathizing with him and that’s bad. Then I will start finding excuses for him and for every other man who lays a hand on a female.

We started discussing the environment the person grows up in, how he is raised, what he witnesses and ofcourse how occupation ruins everything. I usually get irritated of how much we try to blame occupation sometimes for things that we should blame upon ourselves. But this time he was right. As a dad of 7 children, he witnessed all Intifadas and wars. He is trying hard to make a living, fighting Gaza’s impossible living conditions and yet didnt lose his mind.

He is double my age now, 54, he was my age when the first Intifada happened. He was happily married with one child. He had so many dreams and ambitions then it got all screwed and ruined. Since then, his life has been one big ugly rollercoaster and his main goal is to constantly have food on the table to feed his kids. And education, it’s a very important thing for him to educate his chilldren since he holds a Bachelor’s degree. He worked pretty much in everything. He is responsible for a number of families including his own, his married son, his dead brother’s family and his dad. His brother was shot during the first Intifada. Too much mouths to feed, as he said it.

His wife loves him to death. So on the day this incident happened, the man was sick and his wife was trying to bring him back inside telling him he should rest and she will go out try to make a living. She admits: “He smacks me sometimes, but out of love”. He looked like a tortured soul, a man who endured hell and yet still tries to keep standing and make a living. Still, I reminded myself, whatever the situation is: IT IS WRONG TO HIT A WOMAN.

He told me that his grandson was sick and he couldn’t skip work. He needed to work so he could afford taking him to the doctor. And he wouldn’t let his wife work. “My son graduated a few years ago, he is my eldest, he tries to work, but as you see Gaza is the spring of unemployment”, he said while his eyes turned red. “Do you believe that I hold a Bachelor’s degree? Yes. Me. Yet, I have to work in anything I can find just to keep everyone going. Its exhausting and humiliating but its worth it. And I will never humiliate my wife or let her go and beg for work”, he chocked as tears rolled slowly down his eyes. I couldn’t help but shed a tear as well. But his wife broke down and hugged him. I felt weird. I looked like a foreign journalist who is there to interview them or write their story. 

Weird enough, he asked me if I was a journalist or foreign. I said I am Palestinian and I haven’t written in a while and I don’t use people for stories unless they let me or ask me to share.

They insisted I stay for lunch but it was too awkward so I made up an excuse and left. But before that, I talked to him about domestic violence and hitting women. I tried not to sound like a lecturer but I did. “You need to understand uncle, hitting women isn’t right no matter what excuse you tell yourself. I will not ask you to go the gym to release negative energy, just walk it out or read Quran if you are too tired to walk or just sleep it off. Anything but hitting women. I know it anguishes you and it hurts your wife so why not just stop it?”, I said embarrassingly.

“I never laid a hand on my daughters. But sometimes I get angry, I don’t do drugs like other men here, I have a family to feed, I need to be sober and save money. I need a release or I will die. My wife is a good woman, she tolerates me and I swear I don’t smack her hard. I suspect my son is doing the same with his wife and I feel guilty.”, he said while looking down. I was saddened but understanding. He clearly appears like he wouldn’t do anything to his sons in law if they hit his daughters, he will feel like a hypocrite. That’s just wrong.

Before I could respond, his wife hurried to chip in. “Yes, it hurts more mentally than physically, I feel humiliated but at the same time I feel like as a good wife I need to help him get a release. Or he will die. So I let him hit me and promise myself to stop him next time. I never did. I love him too much. I overcome my shame and pain and anger for him. But inside, we both know its wrong. Atleast he never hit me infront of the children, right?”, she asked me. I didn’t answer because she knew the answer and wasn’t herself convinced that it was “right”.

He promised me never to hit her again. He realized its wrong. But I didn’t believe him, he knew it was wrong all along but did it anyway. She promised me she will stop him if he did it again, but we both knew it will never happen. 

I left feeling overwhelmed, thinking about children who see their dads hit their moms and how they follow the same pattern. Wondering why women are considered second class citizens in their own home? Why do we tolerate that? Why do we shove it under the rug and act like our societies are strong and religious?

I still see him around sometimes. He waves his hand to me and all I can think of is the memory of waving his hand to land on his wife's face. He smiles, but I cant smile back.

I faced the sad truth. Arab women are oppressed, degraded, abused and underestimated.

Ofcourse, many Arab women broke the cycle and soared to success. They fought against all odds, although it shouldn’t be so hard for them to become achievers. In Gaza too, many women revolted against traditions and violence and oppression. They became a beckon of inspiration, hope and success. Yet, many others are still suffering, still being hit, still being degraded and still being forced to shut up about it or lose their house, family, kids or even life.

Unlike the western world thinks, Islam honored women and actually emphasized on their rights more than men’s rights. Women should enjoy equality and all kinds of freedoms, including the freedom of choice. 

Women aren’t only our moms, sisters, wives and daughters. They are our friends, colleagues and peers too. I see men here go from opening the car door for their wives to being there for them and helping them succeed. Some men here even stay with the kids or work under their wives to make sure their business grow. And so many other sweet stuff. Unfortunately, those are the exception to the rule, and not the rule itself.

Its nearly 2015, and you still hear about so many cases of honor killing and beating up women in the Arab region and the world. Its not acceptable one bit. And this global new trend of promoting sexual violence claiming women love that, its beyond disgusting and sick.

If you think hitting women makes you a better man, you are wrong. Manhood is about respecting women and treating them right, not the opposite. Don’t make excuses up.

Your action shouldn’t just stop at not hitting women. It should extend to reach much higher actions like standing against domestic violence and violence against women. Your duty is not only to stop yourself from laying a hand on a woman, but stopping from doing it too.

Be strong by protecting women, not hitting them.

From Gaza with love,

Omar Ghraieb

Tell the world: Samer Issawi is coming home

Samer Issawi is coming home

(A poem I wrote for Samer is at the bottom of this post)

Gaza, April 23, Samer Issawi is set to be released 8 months from now.In a brokered deal between the Israeli authorities and Samer's lawyer and family, Samer Issawi will serve another 8 months starting from today and then be released and back to his home with no conditions or any foreign exile.

Rumors have been spreading online for a while about so many deals with so many different details but this deal was confirmed by Samer's family and lawyer, which means that it will happen if Israel doesnt break its promise and slam the deal against the wall. Its noteworthy that Israel is unpredictable and doesnt keep promises, so lets pray and hope and see.

Samer Issawi was released back in October of 2011 as a part of Shalit's release deal. Israel released 1027 Palestinian prisoners in return of Hamas's release of Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit.

Israel then re-captured Samer Issawi in 2012 and held him with no charges or trial. Samer started hunger striking for freedom and till yesterday he passed over 8 months of hunger striking breaking any world record out there. No word yet whether Samer ended his hunger striking or not, but he went back to taking his Vitamins after stopping for a day or two in a step of escalation. 

Samer Issawi has seen unprecedented support from inside and outside of Palestine, people everywhere stood by him and showed support by taking the streets and hunger striking in support of him and honoring him in a way by appreciating his bravery.

Samer Issawi's family, especially his sister Shireen who works as a lawyer, played a great role in imposing pressure and raising awareness about Samer's case. Social media also helped in channeling support and creating awareness and pressure.

Perhaps Samer Issawi's release is the most anticipated event in Palestine these days. This is a picture of Samer Issawi's mother after hearing about the deal of her soon-to-be released son:

 

In 8 months from now, and only a week before 2014, Samer Issawi will be released and back with his family so Palestine can enter a new year full of hope and anticipation for freedom and justice.

Samer Issawi turned into an iconic figure, a hero and a representative of Palestine's steadfastness and strength for choosing to starve himself for freedom. Palestinians look up to him for he has given them hope and faith in a better tomorrow, Samer will be free and Palestine will be free.

Samer Issawi lost allot of weight and his health is in mere danger, he will need a long rehabilitation time after his release to revive his weak body who kept fighting while being fueled with a strong will and a thirst for freedom.

 You were born to fly

With a strong will

And a head held up high

And steal wings

You were free before humanity came

A hero with a special name

A truth stronger than a claim

bringing your jailers to shame

Your mother prayed and prayed

you were never afraid

you knew you would win

you knew you would prevail

Your body is weak

But your soul is not harmed

You will soon be released

Received with cheers and open arms

No matter who doubts or hates

No matter what it takes

The world awaits

For you to come home

You are coming home

To where you belong

To Jerusalem 

To the rock covered by a dome

From Gaza with love and hope,

Omar

Bab Al Shams - The Gate of The Sun

Bab Al Shams - The Gate of the Sun

Bab Al Shams doesnt need any introduction but for those who wonder what I am talking about, check this link:

http://electronicintifada.net/blogs/ali-abunimah/defying-occupier-palestinians-establish-bab-al-shams-village-land-seized-jewish

This was very inspiring, I couldnt sleep last night. I was glued to my laptop keeping a close eye on Bab Al Shams until Israeli heavily armed forces barbarically attacked and dismantled Bab Al Shams, arresting and injuring Palestinian and foreign activists who were peaceful and unarmed - Link: http://occupiedpalestine.wordpress.com/2013/01/13/babalshams-photos-israeli-soldiers-attack-evict-bab-al-shams-arrest-dozens/ I cant be present at Bab Al Shams so the least I can do is write an inspired poem about it. And it goes like this:

Bab Al Shams

Freedom is set to come

Shining through the gate of the sun

Darkness, we will overcome

Everything in our power will be done

Look at those idiots

Trying to defy the universe

Closing the sun’s gate

Fighting against fate

Don’t you know the sun will always shine?

Don’t you know that the land is mine?

Break my bones and cuff my hands

I’ll come here tomorrow again to stand

I never give up

Go ahead and try to shut me up

My voice will break every silence

Let my step set off sirens

May you fear even my dance

We are here, we are all Bab Al Shams

Taking back what we already own

Taking it back on our own

Defying barbarism with our bare flesh

Growing stronger with every thresh

They can break our spine but not our spirit

We wont abandon our land, our souls are in it

Story will be told

Whether young or old

Tell Issawi to hang in there

His hunger is stronger than thunger

The sun will inevitably shine

Over a free Palestine

Between Freedom & Emancipation: I found myself

Between Freedom & Emancipation: I found myself

Gaza, Ever thought about Freedom? Silly question, I know for sure that indeed you thought about it allot, but what I meant is: Have you ever looked the meaning up in the dictionary and thought about it? As you can see in the picture above, “Freedom” has several meanings. But in my personal opinion, Freedom is a feeling that only you can interpret in your own way and words. Which definition suits you from the above picture? I chose one, I will come back to it later.

As a Palestinian, I was born to seek freedom. But also as a human I was born with a thirst for freedom. Its not just about indulging in a free independent country, no, its also about setting yourself and humanity free then using this freedom to fight cruelty, poverty, inhumanity, war crimes…..etc.

Gaza is the biggest open air prison that earth has ever known, these aren’t just words, I live in Gaza, I live in that prison. Waking up every day in a besieged big open-air prison isn’t easy, thirst for freedom elevates every second and it turns into a pressure or a duty or a must or maybe all three together. I never felt unsafe in Gaza, but I never felt safe either. I never felt free but god knows that I tried so hard to find white canvases to paint freedom on, believing that freedom can be found in little details and can be sparked within little steps.

My daily routine consists of power outages, Israeli warplanes either bombing or violating the sanctity of Gaza’s sky or both, water shortages, daily news of Israel’s violation of human rights in Palestine, Palestinian prisoners on hunger strike, Fatah-Hamas division, news about Syria, Egypt and the world.

Then I traveled to the US. I lived in Manhattan for a month, I was always busy with UN media training and discovering every place I can. Suddenly, my body gets accustomed to a whole new system. Suddenly, every pressure is lifted. Suddenly, I feel like a normal human being who is living in a familiar easy place. Suddenly, I think I feel a certain definition of the word “Freedom”, I feel “improper familiarity”. Why do I feel this sensation of improper familiarity? Because I am not designed to feel like a normal human being. HELLO, I am Palestinian and I live in Gaza, if that doesn’t scream “abnormal”, I don’t know what does. And I shouldn’t feel any familiar to a place other than my homeland, especially if it’s the US which has a government that is supporting the occupation of my homeland.

I also felt guilty, I felt like I am betraying Gaza. Hell, I felt like I am betraying Palestine, all Palestinians and the Palestinian cause. How can I forget everything and just dare to feel free while my country is still occupied and my home is still besieged? HOW?

What felt like a sweet moment quickly turned into bitterness and guilt.

But “Freedom” is overpowering, let it not kid or fool you. Freedom is indeed dangerous. I couldn’t stop it or help it, I was feeling “FREE” and I felt fear clenching over my heart and taking over my body.

What happens after I go back to Gaza? Will I crave this rare sensation? Will I seek it out of Gaza instead of needing it for and in Palestine? What if I feel free out of Palestine and never in Palestine? What if freedom out of Palestine becomes a goal instead of seeking freedom inside and for Palestine? What if feeling free out of Palestine becomes a comfort zone and I end up forgetting about freeing my country?

I got confused, then angry, then frustrated and I nearly cried in the middle of a street in Manhattan’s upper east side. Yet, I kept walking.

 I felt the most free when I was alone walking around New York. I will never ever forgot the first moment of recognizing a weird sensation that was running slowly but majorly through my blood. I was walking aimlessly through the streets of Manhattan, losing track of time\place\directions. It was a Saturday and I had nothing to hold me down, I knew I would end up getting back home if I get lost anyway, so I just kept walking with nothing on my mind.

I reached a corner and was about to cross to the other side of the street, not caring where it leads me, then I stopped. Time stopped, I froze. I felt no pressure or stress, no worries or cares. I felt free. I could go wherever I want, do whatever I may and no matter what I will get back home safely at the end of the day. Is that freedom? Or is it emancipation? Or maybe both? Or I simply might be losing my mind.

I continued walking. It was a very cold but sunny day. I had my headphones in my ears, some music was jamming and I just smiled. I had many mixed emotions but I decided to confront them later.

I went to bed that day knowing that eventually I will have to face the inevitable. I need to figure out what happened with me that day and how and why I felt what I felt. I looked the word “Emancipation” up online to see if I felt any literal meanings of it. I gave up but then I came across the medical meaning of it, shown in the picture below.

Yes, that was me, I was the original homogeneous embryo. I gradually separated my mindset from Gaza and I found myself entering new fields with potential of development known as “New York”. I felt worse. I don’t want to separate gradually from Palestine and Gaza. I want to remain a loyal concerned original homogeneous embryo. I was confused, and I thought I have lost my mind already.

I found myself between “Freedom” and “Emancipation”, I found my home between them. I might feel the same feelings in other countries and cities around the world but none of them will resonate until I feel them in my own homeland (Palestine). So I had to accept how good those feelings felt and yet remind myself that I need to keep seeking freedom for my country until I feel those same exact feelings in my own homeland.

We are all born free until something or someone tries to oppress us. We are willing to spend our lifetime seeking freedom and even risk losing it for the sake of freedom.

So until Palestine is free, I won’t rest. I might travel, take breaks and cherish instantaneous freedom but I won’t give up, hopefully. My thoughts also are with Syria, Egypt and all oppressed nations around the world.

Love, peace, humanity and hugs,

Omar from Gaza

Teaser: 4m Gaza 2 the US & back

Teaser: 4m Gaza 2 the US & back

Gaza, January 2, Happy new year peeps everywhere. I will write something about the new year soon, I promise. Let me also apologize for abandoning my blog for this long but I had an intense couple of months. I am a person of details, I like to observe and notice the littlest things so I took my time to absorb everything I saw and process it rather than writing about it immediately.

2012 was about to be the best year in my life, but my grandmother’s death affected that. Yet, I can’t deny that it was one of the best. I started it by making a dream come true and work at Doctors without Borders – France, and ended it by making another dream come true by visiting New York, the city of my dreams.

Ofcourse, and as I mentioned before and about to mention briefly now, as a Palestinian you will be exposed to all kinds of interrogations and obstacles whether on Rafah border, at Cairo airport and at JFK airport. But I was determined to make it happen and god stood by my side and all the prayers that everyone was generous enough to send my way actually worked and I found myself at the exit door of JFK airport in Queens, NYC.

Its weird how familiar and easy I felt as soon as I step foot in New York. I felt like I know it by heart. Its like my system immediately upgraded to “NYC MODE”. I don’t know if the fact that we are all under the same sky wherever we are helped, or simply because I knew New York before I visited it made things seem so familiar.

During my UN media training in New York, we worked hard and whatever time we had left we decided to explore the big apple. I rarely had time to write and even when I did, I couldn’t, because I wasn’t in a place where I processed things like they should be processed and talked about. So I decided to wait till I come back.

My trip wasn’t normal at all. The night that I arrived to New York, we went directly to Time Square and witnessed the results of the American Elections being announced live there. Obama won, I had mixed feelings. We visited places that not many people get to visit like: The White House, The Congress, U.S. Department of State, numerous organizations of all kinds and many historical places.

Israel’s second war on Gaza broke while I was in Washington and this changed everything. I didn’t sleep for days and was always in direct contact with family and friends in Gaza. I participated in protests against the Israeli aggression on Gaza and was featured on many media venues to talk about it and about being in America while my family are under danger in Gaza.

We had the honor of experience firsthand the “International Day of Solidarity with Palestine” and be an insider, this day also happened to be the day of Palestine’s UN recognition, whatever that means or makes you feel. We were inside the General Assembly. We met world leaders, President Abbas and his gang, Roger Waters of Pink Floyd and many other personalities that day. This alone, was a historical day that marked our trip.

I did my best to explore New York as much as I can. I walked like I never walked before in my life. I tried to live every experience possible. I was very lucky and smart in getting cabs and figuring out which ones are available and which ones are not. I tried different cuisines from around the world and managed to see many of NYC’s landmarks.

Ofcourse, my average intelligence will make me split my American experience into two or three blog posts instead of one huge boring post. So consider this as a teaser ;)

I still owe you, my dear readers, new blog posts about: New Year of 2013 and the highlights of 2012 and the parts of my American experience so hold this against me if I didn’t write them.

I hope you all had a splendid New Year’s eve and may we all have a great year and become better persons. Make sure you take time to think about others this year as you think about yourself.

I will leave you with this weird sensation that I felt on a cold but sunny day in New York. It was a Saturday, one of the rare weekends that we get to be free all day. I cleaned, did the laundry and despite my sickness I decided to leave my apartment (in the heart of Manhattan’s upper east side, NYC) and explore my outstanding block.

I left the building. I started walking aimlessly around my block. I walked and walked and walked. It was cold yet the sun was warming me up and making me smile. I lost track of time and directions. I didn’t care. I walked without a certain address, without fear, without any care for time or any worries. I was alone and lost in the streets of New York and suddenly I was overwhelmed by a shower of weird tickling sensation. My mind was screaming: “OMG, I FEEL FREE”. I paused. I had my headphones on listening to music, but occasionally I would take them off to listen to the surroundings.

I stopped in the middle of the street, and wondered, is this what freedom feels like?

I was puzzled. Freedom is a broad conception and be interpreted in a million way. I know that there is a definition for the word “Freedom” but I believe that in reality you can’t define freedom because everyone has his own take at explaining it.

I was gifted a book called “The Stranger”, written by Albert Camus, originally in French and known as “L’etanger” but then got translated by many. The version that I read was translated by Mathew Ward. I will need a whole blog post to share my input and review of the book but there was a sentence that took me aback because I felt that exact feeling. The writer captures a certain moment when the main Character “Meursault”, thinks about Freedom and remembers feeling it when he was alone wandering around in strange streets and wonders if that is “Freedom”.

I never thought that freedom can hold such simple meanings and can be felt at such eccentric little moments. I think this is one of our main problems in life, we always tend to rush so we can keep up with the bigger picture while we ignore the little details that might turn out to be keys that unlock many mysterious questions.

How do you define freedom? And Have you ever felt “Free” in awkward little moments and felt taken aback by it?

Best wishes,

Omar from Gaza