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

Silence : Are you listening?

Silence : Are you listening?

Gaza, May 19, I have always came across “Silence” in my life, each time in a different form. It became a companion (rather than just a friend), a goal (sometimes) and an intriguingly opulent space. I discovered that Silence can become anything you want it to be, ofcourse that doesn’t mean its easily manipulated because sometimes it can be an abhorrent burden.

Silence is just like air, you cant see it or feel it, but you can definitely sense it and hear it if you paid attention. 

Just like anything in life, Silence can be used in a good way or a bad way.

Silence can bounce between gratitude, shame, guilt and\or empathy. Silence is wisdom when talk is cheap.

Silence can be a hint of dalliance, the beginning of a love affair, the end of a long relationship, a manifestation of certain good or bad feelings or just a way out. Some consider Silence as a symptom of defeat while others consider Silence as a sign of power.

“Actions speak louder than words”, is a popular saying that we often use excessively, but what we fail to mention is that Silence can be as powerful as actions and words. It can ruin a person, relationship, family, career, and\or a reputation if\when misinterpreted. It can also thicken the air when it tries to delicately hold what is left unsaid.

Silence can encapsulate endless untold stories and\or secrets but it can also refer to tiresome.

While some people consider Silence as a devilish act, others will resort to Silence to politely disagree with an elderly (whether a parent or a person you highly respect). It can also become the face of helplessness or a wicked punishment to someone that hurt us. Silence can be an alarming warning of anger.

People are usually Silent when they are contemplating or planning ahead. Silence can be the preparation of a pleasant surprise or the mischievous intent that will lead to atrocities and\or crimes of any nature.

In the Arabic culture, Silence is a sign of consent. When the bride-to-be is asked by her father or the sheikh if she approves or disapproves marrying the man who came to offer his love, Silence is a sign of consent. It can also be a sign of oppression if the bride-to-be is afraid to voice her real feelings. Silence can be an act of fear.

Silence can represent an asylum for people who assign it as their comfort zone. It can also be the mantra of true love for you don’t need to speak allot if there is a direct lane of feelings between you and your beloved. It can also refer to a lack of communication or even a lack of trust.

Silence has a voice that you can hear if you listen carefully. It can be singsonging calmness or containing bad news or an act of carelessness.

Silence can be a privilege that you need to work hard to experience, or a luxury that you yearn to indulge yourself in, or a self-defense mechanism that you use as a shield from being hurt or just a way to recuperate from a deep emotional wound caused by someone you love or a prison that you find yourself stuck in.

Silence can be the result of dead emotions. Silence can also be a way of appreciating everything around you.

Silence can be caused by injustice. Silence can mean cowardice.  Silence can impersonate a man with a wounded pride. Silence can become a solution to disguise confabulation.

Silence can shout: I love you or I cant stand you or I need my distance or I need to stay away for your own good.

Hence, Silence can also showcase inner peace or the exemplary rituals of a spiritual prayer that you might be performing for god in a ceremony that includes only you and god.

Silence can be easily molded but it should never be underestimated or taken lightly because it can hide lifetimes and worlds.

Gaza war - 3rd anniversary: We moved on

Gaza war - 3rd anniversary: We moved on 

Gaza, December 27, Today we mark the 3^rd anniversary of Israel’s vicious war on Gaza. Three years have passed. Wow. Three years ago today, at 12:30 pm, I was playing with my nephew in the living room when the whole ground shook. Israeli F16s, Apaches and drones suddenly filled the air and bombings were happening. We never guessed it was the start of a vicious war that will leave us with no water, electricity, food or movement for 24 days. 

I remember running to my nephew and trying to cover him with my body. And then hell opened. Hundreds of Gazans were killed in cold blood while thousands got injured. Neighbor hoods were wiped out and death filled the air.

Three years after, here we are. Gaza is stronger, brighter, better and life springs from every corner of it. We have moved on. You see now many new buildings and many others under construction. Psychological and physical wounds are healing well.

We honor the martyrs, injured and medics today for giving their life to Gaza and by keeping the land moist with their pure blood. Life goes on and people thrive for life even more now. I will steal Rafeef Ziadeh’s sentence and say, “In Gaza, we teach life Sir”. Maya Angelou said: “When you know better, you do better”, and boy she is right. We know better know, we have seen better and we are doing much better.

Yes, three years have passed and now its time for us to make a vow: “We promise ourselves and the world to make Gaza a better stronger place; we will make our society better by starting bettering ourselves from within”. “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger”. I remember one day during the war in Gaza, I felt so dark inside that I doubted I would ever see the dawn of tomorrow but when I woke up the next day I saw the sun lighting up every grain of sand in Gaza. I believe in tomorrow now thanks to Gaza.

I went out today to shop for books and the weather was very warm and beautiful. I walked through Gaza’s streets holding my head up high, looking at the sky and smiling. We survived. We made it. I believe that we made it for a reason; we survived just to make Gaza a monumental place that the world will never forget.

Three years passed and we still demand the prosecution of Israel’s war criminals and we will never stop demanding our right to see those cold blooded monsters behind bars. I will not remind Gazans of this day because we will never forget what we went through, I will not remind the world because the world never gave a crap.

Believe it or not but I am grateful today, we are overwhelmed with the support and love that we indulge in coming from people around the whole world. And we have also witnessed recently allot of BDS successes. Palestinians are now stronger in Palestine and around the world. We have a cause that makes us stronger and makes us wanna fight till the last breath to gain our freedom.

We are more determined and focused now. We are more aware and we have made people around the world more aware too. Gaza’s light has touched hearts around the globe, why shouldn’t I be grateful?

Today I feel a pinch of freedom, today I feel happy and proud.

I will post here a picture of a Palestinian child that lost his family and his house during the vicious war in Gaza; he was standing near his completely-demolished house looking frightened and lost. He didn’t understand what happened and what did he do to deserve such a tragedy. Those of you who are my friends already know how many times I have shared this picture and I will never stop. I wish I can turn the time back so I can be there for that innocent child, I wish I was there to hug him and tell him everything will be alright. I wish I was there to tell him that after three years things would be much better and people would be healing and moving on. I will never ever forget this little boy’s picture in my life, its carved in my head and heart:

Finally, I would kindly ask you to help Gaza, Palestine and Gazans move on instead of reminding them of the tragedies they will never forget. We don’t want to dwell on the past, we want to move forward. We will never forget but we have the right to move forward and live and make our country better. Help us heal. We appreciate all the support. Believe it or not, we are the land of love and abundance and we send you all our love and gratitude.

All my love,

Omar from Gaza

Gazan Defies Handicap to Live Life to Fullest

Abdul Qader Abu Lubda overcomes birth defect, poverty and social stigma


GAZA CITY, Gaza – Abdul Qader Abu Lubda is walking down the street in his n Gaza City neighborhood one afternoon this week. In one hand he has a sheaf of papers perched precariously between his palm and two short fingers. In the other, two stumpy fingers are holding a heavy bag. But Abu Lubda doesn’t look or act like he’s struggling..

Along the way he is smiling and greeting neighbors and acquaintances. When someone stops him with a question, he easily puts down his load and takes a pen and piece of paper from his shirt pocket, confidently jotting down words with the pen positioned between his two fingers. In a minute, he is back on his way.

Born with a rare condition that left him with two deformed and short hands, each with only two fingers, Abu Lubda doesn’t just handle the ordinary challenges of day-to-day life with ease and aplomb. In a steely defiance of his handicap he has mastered a host of hand-centric skills, mastering the game of ping pong, learning to paint and making handicrafts. And, in a society that looks down on the disabled, he has found a wife and is father to four children. Now, he is taking on a college degree.

“You were shocked when you saw me carrying heavy bags with two fingers,” he tells a visiting reporter. Heavy set, with dark hair and a trimmed beard, Abu Lubda fits easily into the Gaza street scene by his looks and dress. “You should have seen me carrying my children when they were toddlers. I even held two of them at a time in each hand.”

The ease with Abu Lubda, 34, copes with his disability belies the many years be spent struggling to overcome his physical limitations and more importantly the psychological blocks to accepting who he was and what he could or couldn’t do. In a part of the world where suffering and redemption are usually framed in political terms of the Palestinian struggle against Israel Abu Lubda is rare instance of a Gazan whose challenges were intimately personal and physical

“I went through a phase in my life when I lost touch with reality. I was doing everything a normal person can and was even doing much more sometimes. I didn’t feel disabled,” he recalls. “I was angry when someone would label me as disabled. But then I learned the lesson, if you want to overcome your disability you should accept it first and not deny it.”

Even today, it took convincing to get Abu Lubda to tell his story. “I’m not extraordinary, you know. I’m just like everybody else, I just worked extra hard on myself.”

Life in Gaza – a tiny enclave of 1.5 million people, impoverished and cut off from the wider world by Israel’s embargo – but Abu Lubda and others with physical handicaps must also contend with social stigma placed on them. While more and more services are available from organizations like the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS), many grew up without the help of trained professionals and families with the knowledge and resources to help them. Abu Lubda serves as mentor for many of them.

Basel Muqdadi, 11 years Abu Lubda’s junior, was born with the same condition. The two were introduced two years ago and since then, he says, Abu Lubda he become his mentor and inspiration. “When I met Abdul Qader I was blown away and immediately saw him as my role model,” he told The Media Line.

“It’s hard to be young and disabled, especially in Gaza,” says Muqdadi,. “People either judge you or show you pity with little consideration to your feelings. No matter how amazing you are at the end of the day you are called ‘disabled’ by your friends and family and by your society.”

Abu Lubda was born in 1977 in Rafah city to a poor family that already had five children to raise. He was left largely on his own to figure out on his own how to cope with his disability. Slowly, he trained himself how to tackle actions as simple as holding a pen, over the years gradually emerging into an independent, self-sufficient teenager. If he was ever angry at himself for his fate, he never blamed his parents for not knowing how to raise him.

Left to his own devices, he says, he became driven to achieve a better life and overcoming his disability.

“Yes, you sometimes ask your parents and God why you? Why did you have to be disabled while others are normal?” he asks without any hint of self pity.

“I was frustrated at my early age, especially when I saw my parents feeling confused and frustrated because they didn’t know what to do with me. Gaza back in 1977, there were much fewer associations for the disabled and fewer awareness programs,. Families with disabled children were considered as jinxed or cursed, which doesn’t make you feel exactly happy when you are just a little kid who was born with a condition and didn’t actually do this to himself.”

He also took advantage of every opportunity that came his way from professionals, which led him to the PRCS when it embarked on a new program to teach the disabled sports and other activities. “I trained hard and grabbed every opportunity I could to become better, better trained and stronger,” he recalls.

When he was asked in which program he wanted to enroll, he answered: “Thank you, I’ll take them all.” He wasn’t joking, and a few years later he was competing in ping pong, was painting and engaged in handicrafts. “I thrived to absorb every bit I can from every program because I had bigger plans in mind,” Abu Lubda adds proudly..

He is a member of a slew of Arab and international clubs for the disabled athletes and, travelling to Lebanon, Jordan, Dubai, Syria and European countries on a special visa, he has won medals for ping pong in Arab and international competition.

He holds a paddle confidently between his two fingers as if he had no handicap at all. Perhaps why his four children – two boys and two girls have never asked him about his disability. They simply didn’t see it.

“I had to sit with them and explain the condition I was born with,” he says, adding with a laugh: “I don’t want them to think that I’m normal while all other people are disabled because they have five fingers and long hands

The toughest challenge for Abu Lubda is making a living. He gets about 1,000 Israeli shekels a month ($293) in the form of an allowance for the disabled. Sometimes it works out to less than that. “It brings me nothing these days aside from rent, water, electricity and life expenses,” he says, but expresses no bitterness.

“I’m luckier than others. I get paid sometimes for training others and participating in competitions or handicrafts exhibitions “Other disabled people don’t get any financial help at all and can’t find jobs because disabled people here are degraded. They’re considered to be less than normal people regardless of the fact that they can be even more.”

While the PRCS gave him a chance to acquire skills and confidence, he says not enough is done in Gaza to help the disabled. “Although you hear about many associations caring for the disabled people in Gaza, most of them are just a front for a bogus association that gives very little actual help to the disabled,” he says.

Abu Lubda isn’t resting on his laurels. He is now planning to apply to enter a business administration program at Al-Quds Open University because it offers a flexible program that doesn’t require students to always attend class. He sees himself working in an organization in an administrative post.

“I didn’t get the chance to go to college, I was busy learning everything else,” he explains. “But I guess now is the right time.”

An inspiring story that gave me pleasure while writing and sharing. It was published on:

http://www.themedialine.org/news/news_detail.asp?NewsID=32873
 
and
 
http://arabnews.com/middleeast/article482008.ece