Words from Palestine

While the illegal occupation of Palestine makes the revolutions that have swept the Arab world more difficult for the Palestinians, this year’s al Nakba demonstrations were imbued with that same sense of hope and righteous indignation that inspired Egypt and Tunisia and all the other nations toward freedom.

We were invited by Palestinians of the village we live in to make the pilgrimage to Qalundiya checkpoint where one of the major demonstrations against the occupation would take place. Qalundiya is the checkpoint that separates the West bank from East Jerusalem and of course, the Dome of the Rock and al Aqsa Mosque. The bus we rode in drove through several villages along the way picking up Palestinians who wanted to say, for the 63^rd year, “No to the occupation.” Along the way we witnessed a very heavy Israeli Occupation Force presence which increased as we drew nearer to Ramallah, but they gave us no problem. Entering Ramallah, we saw banners proclaiming, “The Right to Return is never Outdated” and “Dear Haifa, We Will Return.” We drove through Ramallah, where I saw that a number of private businesses were closed, but unfortunately the PA did not declare a national holiday, so most people were working. I say this with a degree of disappointment… I wonder how much stronger the demonstrations would have been had people had been encouraged to declare their right resist the Israeli occupation by their government.

The bus dropped all of us near Qalundiya checkpoint and soon we became a part of the large crowd who had started walking toward the hundreds of soldiers lined up,  determined to keep up from our goal. Carrying banners, flags and chanting anti-occupation slogans, we marched towards the armed soldiers. Within minutes tear gas blanketed the marchers and the surrounding area- a mix of businesses and residences, and a large refugee camp. Demonstrators moved quickly out of the cloud of gas and the potentially lethal tear gas projectiles, and reorganized to march again…. and again…. and again. For more than 10 hours the demonstrators attempted to break the wall that separates them from their capitol and the 3^rd holiest site in their religion. The sound of Ambulance sirens was a deafening, non-relenting backdrop to the scene of chaos in the street around us. The injuries were in the hundreds and the ambulances went to and fro from the site to hospitals in the city.

The shops on the street that sold vegetables put crates of onions out on the street for demonstrators to use against the tear gas, then most of them closed up shop for the day as of course nobody would be coming into this war zone to purchase food on this commemoration of al Nakba.  Other stores kindly allowed us the use of their bathrooms and gave us water. One of the shops that sold sweets became a first aid station where street medics prepared first aid supplies to take to the injured and some of the wounded were taken to await the next ambulance.

As the day progressed, the IOF became more ruthless in their force against unarmed demonstrators. Rubber and hard plastic coated metal bullets were shot into the crowds as was live ammunition.  Soldiers had taken over the rooftop of one of the Palestinian apartment buildings and from their vantage point fired upon us. Bullets ricocheted off buildings and metal awnings as demonstrators surged back toward relative safety.  The shebob (young male protestors)  began throwing rocks at the IOF in a meager attempt to counter the violence, and trucks of tires poured in, the tires to be burned to provide a smoke screen against identification of the youthful stone throwers.  A dumpster was rolled down toward the line of IOF and set alight; shebob hurled rocks at the armed soldiers from behind the burning trash.

As dusk fell on the street littered with soda cans, tear gas canisters and bullets, many of the demonstrators began to leave. Palestinians no doubt wanted to get home to find out what had happened in other parts of the country where large scale demonstrations and Israeli border infiltrations had been planned.  News had trickled in throughout the day… “Palestinians breach border in the Occupied Golan Heights”, “5 martyrs in Gaza” , “Egyptians storming Israeli embassy in Cairo”.  Others, like ourselves, were exhausted and sickened by the heavy tear gas inhalation. And the press… well they had their story early on in the day. “Masked Palestinians hurled stones at Israeli Defense Forces who attempted to disperse the mobs with tear gas.” Yes, that is what Americans will read, if indeed anything of this day makes it to the mainstream press. But that is not what happened. It is not what happened at all.

A peaceful demonstration to gain the basic human right to live in sovereignty within internationally recognized borders, to regain what was stolen 63 years ago when the al Nakba began, was brutally suppressed by the Israeli Occupation Forces. Suppressed, but not stopped. As we left, the brave young men struggling for their dignity and the dignity of their people were still in the street, facing the armed soldiers with nothing but rocks and righteousness.

There is hardly a village left in the West Bank that is not almost entirely surrounded by settlements, outposts and military camps to protect these illegal colonies of Israel. Many of the villagers are refugees from al Nakba, that fateful day in 1948 when the state of Israel was created in the land of Palestine. Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were forced from their homes, fleeing a murderous campaign of ethnic cleansing as the world remained silent. The world remained silent perhaps because it remained silent when 6 million Jews, as well hundreds and thousands of non- Jews were murdered by the Nazi regime. Its silent shame caused it to turn its eyes away again from the al Nakba.
But that was 63 years ago and in this time the Zionist state of Israel has multiplied its atrocities over and again, year after year, village from village. The Apartheid Wall cuts through villages, confiscates Palestinian personal property and agricultural land, makes economic development almost impossible and imprisons 2.5 million people within the West Bank. A system of check points and roadblocks makes travel within this virtual prison difficult and humiliating for the Palestinian people. And still the world remains silent.
Soldiers, young and indoctrinated to believe that the Palestinian land belongs to Israel lurk everywhere, their armed presence causing a culture of post traumatic stress disorder as the norm. Night raids on peaceful villages are a way of life; Israeli Occupation Forces invade villages, taking over streets and village rooftops to arrest children without just cause. Sometimes these children spend years in Israeli prisons, without charges, under what Israel calls “administrative detention.” Demonstrators are indiscriminately murdered during unarmed demonstrations against the longest Occupation in the history of the world. And still the world remains silent.
Settlers storm through villages, destroying property, terrorizing and harming innocent villagers and the Israeli Occupation Forces and civil authorities turn a blind eye to their rampages. The settlers stone children on their way to and from school. They run young shepherds off their land at gunpoint. They take over Palestinian homes; with the assistance of the IOF they come to Palestinian homes in the dark of the night and throw the Palestinians out on the street, along with their belongings, and simply take over the home acting with impunity . And still, the world remains silent.
Ancient olive tree groves tended for centuries by Palestinian families are bulldozed. Within a single hour the life and livelihood of generations of Palestinian families is reduced to a pile of debris. Often times their homes are demolished along with their Olive groves. The IOF arrives and declares a closed military zone, the bulldozer comes and carries out its hideous work of home demolition and in less than an hour an extended family of 20 or more people are left with nothing but the rubble of their ancestral home. And yes, still, the world remains silent.
For the people of Palestine, al Nakba refers to that fateful day in 1948 when the Zionist state of Israel was formed and the theft of Palestine began. For me, an activist who has witnessed these atrocities and sits in Palestine on the eve of the 63rd anniversary of al Nakba, I know I will have to return to that world that looks on in silence too soon, al Nakba is not only that day in 1948 and its continuing horror.
Al Nakba is the agony of knowing the world remains silent and I am citizen of a nation whose citizens dutifully pay the taxes which fund the illegal occupation of Palestine. Al Nakba is the agony of knowing I will return to the United States and few will care to know what part of their lives make this Occupation possible. My al Nakba is the silence.

There are over 100 checkpoints in the West Bank, and this doesn’t include “flying checkpoints” that are set up in a village or on the road without discernable reason and can last anywhere from half an hour to days. Some of the checkpoints are open around the clock ( that doesn’t mean you can get through them, it just means there are soldiers on duty) and some are only open on certain days and at certain times.
The Habla Gate

checkpoint near Qalqiliya is one of the latter. It is open Sunday – Thursday, 3 times a day, for one hour. Well, at least it is supposed to be. Sometimes the soldiers don’t bother to show up. Because israel’s Apartheid Wall cuts a swath of land Palestinian land away from its owners, gates are installed to allow farmers to access their fields. As noted above, there is no assurance soldiers will show up to open the gates and often they come quite late, creating hardship for the farmers.
However, the situation for the Habla Gate is even sadder as school children have to pass through this gate to and from school. The soldiers often board the school bus with their machine guns in hand, sometimes children are pulled off the bus to be searched or questioned by the soldiers (which is simply done for intimidation) and sometimes the soldiers won’t even open the gate. They will unlock it and then one of the children from the school bus must get out of the bus and open to gate,(under the watchful eye of the armed, menacing soldiers.
Palestinian, Israeli and International activists recently held a demonstration at the Habla Gate. We had made friends with some women from Machsom Watch, a group of Israeli activists who are against the occupation keep a presence at checkpoints to deter and document human rights abuses. They stood on the Israeli side of the checkpoint

and we, on the Palestinian side. Children from Izbat at Tabib made signs for us to hold when the soldiers arrived to allow farmers to pass through the gate at 1:00pm. (On this day they showed up on time- there were 4 jeeps and perhaps 16 soldiers to allow about 10 famers through the checkpoint- good thing Israel has American tax dollars to pay for the Occupation!)
The farmers were let through the gate one by one. Their IDs and permission to go through the gate is checked, as well as the permissions for their animals (each animal as to have a pass-Yes, this is true) and each item the farmer carries has to have permission.

One farmer was not allowed to pass through because he had 2 pieces of aluminum in his truck. He was turned away. We were told that a few days ago a farmer was turned away because he had some cucumbers that were not previously registered!
Here is how it went… the gate would be opened for a farmer to pass through then it was closed again while he and his truck, tractor or animal was checked over. Then it would open again for the next farmer. I asked one of the soldiers why they did not just keep the gate open since there were so many soldiers there was not the chance of a farmer sneaking through. He responded that they have to close it because of our presence. This was laughable as there only about 15 of us, and we were obviously not there to storm the gate!
Ironically, the same squad of soldiers at this gate were the ones who raided the houses in Izbet at Tabib last week. One of them recognized me. He was not one who entered a house, but rather had been stationed with is to make sure we didn’t talk to one another. (yes, this is true). When we did talk to one another he screamed at us to shut up. I had told him he didn’t have to yell at us, we were only talking. He said he could do anything he wanted because he was a big man. I told him he was only the big man because he had a gun. So today at the checkpoint when he said he remembered me, I said yes, you are the man who is big because you have the gun. I ignored him after this, though he enjoyed taunting us and seemed particularly interested in studying me. Another soldier threatened one of the male activists with us. He told him he would hunt him down. He said it so strongly that I believe he meant it. But none of us are concerned about such things. What is concerning is the depth of hate the soldiers have for people who are just asking for peace and justice.

For more pictures click here

The strip of land which Israel plans to fence off from the village of Izbat at Tabib seems small when one first looks at it.

It is about a mile, maybe 2 miles long and a quarter of a mile wide. However, it is a vital part of the agriculture of the village. This is especially true since more than 60 dunums of olive trees have already been bulldozed by the IOF and another 100 dunums of their land, and a well, are inaccessible to them as they lie behind the apartheid wall on the south side of the village. We have spent a number of days and nights In Izbat at Tabib; the village is so poor and yet so willing to share with us the little that they have. Part of what they are able to share comes from that little strip of land Israel is attempting to annex by building yet another wall between the village and their land.
As we walked the “patrol” around the village the other day ( we want the soldiers to be aware there are internationals in the village so we make ourselves visible by walking the perimeter of the village several times a day) I recognized how much agriculture there is planted in the area the IOF wants to make a wall out of. There are at least 100 Olive trees, some of them quite mature, all of them old enough to bear fruit every year, there are a number of carob trees, as well as vegetables and herbs.
On the next day Mousa, one of the villagers whose family we stay with when keeping a presence ( and here I will mention that it is a 2 room house-one bedroom, small living room and tiny kitchen for him, his mother, wife and four children)

was working his plot of land with his 76 y/o mother.

He asked us to take photos. He wants the world to know how important this land is to him and the villagers. Everything that grows on that little plot of land is used by the village. If they don’t eat it themselves, it is used to feed their animals.

We joined Mousa and his mother while they cleared growth around the olive trees with a sickle. His mother is an expert with the sickle

and as she cut the fodder to be used to feed the donkeys and horses of the village, Mousa loaded it onto a horse drawn cart. Within 2 hours the large cart was loaded beyond capacity.
I asked Mousa how difficult it would be for him to get to this land if the apartheid wall or a fence was built between it and the village. (Supposedly, the farmers would still be able to access the land by going to a gate already installed further up the road.) He was quite clear in his answer. The land will be gone, he said. He will not have access to it, period. The gate will be closed to them and the land will be lost to the village.
It is a little strip of land, but it is vital to this tiny village. It is their food and much of their livelihood. Israel wants to make it a strip of their apartheid system. There isn’t room in the world for Israel’s apartheid system, but there is room in this little strip of land to feed a village. Let us hope this land retains its worth.

For more pictures “>click here

May 4 2011
On May 1st IWPS team mates responded to a call to Izbet at Tabib, which is a village of less that 50 home, 32 which are under demolition orders. We were told that a large military presence was there along with a military bulldozer. When we arrived (from Burin where we taking reports on settler attacks in that village from a widow whose home is attacked several times a week by settlers) there were 3 internationals under arrest

(one of them had been beaten by the soldiers) and another, a 60 year old woman from the US, had suffered 2 broken wrists.

Though the international presence was heavily afflicted by the Israeli Occupation Forces, for the time being the work of destroying  separating villagers from the land they have by building an apartheid wall, which will in itself destroy part of their land, has been halted for the time being. However, the village was raided in the early morning hours of Monday and two homes were ransacked and the international tent was destroyed.

At approximately 5:30am family members and IWPS along with other internationals were awoken by a call from internationals taking their shift at the tent which had a 24 hour presence. We were told that the military was at the tent and to come quickly. When we opened the door there were 16 soldiers around the doorway. They made everyone get out of the house and detained us in the courtyard. There were 9 children present, the youngest being 18 months. While they detained all of us and ransacked the home, destroying property such as computers and foodstuffs, ransacking all the childrens’ bedrooms, they also destroyed the international tent.

However, the IOF has not frightened the village. Internationals are remaining and the village remains steadfast in their resistance to the apartheid wall. On Monday night residents and internationals joined a children’s candlelight vigil in support of Izbet at Tabib’s right to resist on their land. It was a beautiful sight… the children with their candles and signs.

However, it caugh the attention of the ever watchful IOF; they came and gave the children 5 more minutes to “play their game” and after that the crowd had to disperse!

We spent the day in Nabi Salih yesterday. In the quiet morning hours I wrote the previous blog post, then I am my team mate enjoyed a lovely breakfast provided by our even lovelier hostess, Boshra. Her husband is a political prisoner, along with 10% of Nabi Salih’s residents, because he and other peacefully protest the theft of their land. This quiet little village is turned into a war zone every Friday because the Israeli Occupation Forces support the illegal theft of the village’s land and water source by the illegal settlement of Hallamish.
This Friday’s demonstration was perhaps one of the cruelest, if not the most violent demonstrations I have witnessed. As a group of Palestinians, Israeli and international activists, including the former speaker of the European Parliament, (71 years old!) started walking through the fields of Nabi Salih carrying signs encouraging the soldiers to recognize the humanity of the Palestinians, as well as their own, we were unmercifully fired upon with tear gas. The tear gas was different from what is normally used…. my lungs felt like they were on fire and I was immobilized for a moment as were others. Still, they continued to fire.
After my team mate and I had recovered a bit from this first round of tear gas, we saw that some of the demonstrators had made it up through another part of the village that lies closer to the well that Hallamish has expropriated. We were able to reach that part of the village and from that vantage point we could see the well was being heavily guarded by the IOF. So a small group of us are standing on this hilltop doing nothing except observing what is happening at the well and the IOF fires more tear gas on us from close range. A female teenager was hit in the stomach with a tear gas canister. Of course when someone is injured everyone gathers rushes to the scene attempting to help, get info, or document. The IOF fired at this group as well. The young girl was evacuated to a waiting ambulance where she went in and out of consciousness.
We were making our way away from the scene as were others and the IOF began firing from what seemed like every direction. Someone lost consciousness on the road and the ambulance who was treating the first victim came to the scene. As they evacuated this second victim the IOF tear gassed the ambulance.
Demonstrators made their way to a junction in the village where the IOF is always stationed and where often the villagers use peaceful antics of various methods to give the soldiers the message that they are in a Palestinian village, not Israel! There were a lot of children, women and internationals chanting and sitting in front of the soldiers. We joined them in this demonstration within the demonstration and after about an hour the IOF brought in the “skunk water.” This is some type of chemical water that is used for “crowd dispersal.” As soon as we saw the truck coming everyone ran for cover. The truck came into the village and sprayed several houses, including the one we were in. Again someone collapsed in the street and was evacuated by another ambulance.
At this point the demonstration would have essentially been over. After about 20 minutes we began an attempt to clean the skunk water from the patio of the home we were sheltering in. As soon as we got it cleaned up the truck came back in and sprayed. This they did simply because they saw the effort we had put into cleaning up after the first spraying. After this they came back and sprayed a third time.
By now the demonstration had lasted for close to 5 hours and everyone was exhausted and well… smelling pretty bad! Though the soldiers were still at the junction, things were quiet and my team mate and I made our way back to where we had spent the night so to collect our belongings. We had coffee and called for a driver to bring us back to Deir Istiya. He was stopped from entering the village at one entrance and had to drive 30 minutes out of his way to pick us up. No problem for him though. The Palestinians are used to this. “It is the life” they say.

Once again I sit in the early morning quiet of Nabi Salih, having arrived late last night to avoid the Israeli Occupation Forces roadblocks to the village. The early morning quiet is always surreal, knowing that in a few hours this quiet village will be turned into a war zone. Last week an 11 year old boy was hit in the stomach at close range with a high velocity tear gas canister. He is still in intensive care. His liver and kidneys are bleeding from the effects of the tear gas which penetrated his skin.
But for now I will try to catch up on some of the other incidents of the past week. So much happens everyday… it is difficult to record everything, but I feel I must try.
Yesterday we went to the village of Zeita Jaim’in. By the way the crow flies it is a short distance from Deir Istyia. However, the “Settler only” roads can increase the travel time four fold. Fortunately, our driver knows narrow back roads that skirt the settlements. We have been called there because settlers have began laying claim to upwards of 150,000 dunums of Zeita Jaim’in’s land. Representatives from popular committees all over the West Bank have gathered to plan a resistance. They quickly decide they need to draw up a detailed map, build a road that makes it easy access for farmers to plant this land (it has up until now been used for animal grazing by villagers from around the area and nomadic Bedouins) and get media support for their cause.
Then we are off to see the land. OMG! An expanse of rolling hills, pristine… covered with native trees and flowers every way you look… unless you look to the top of the hills. There you see the settlements. They are already illegally occupying Palestinian land, and yet they want more…. Always more.
After about half an hour walk we come across the ruins of a very ancient village, perhaps predating roman times, so at least 2000 years old or older. It is amazing. There are actually 3 villages… each built on top of another. We climb down to view the ruins of perhaps the oldest village. There is a grand room which the Palestinians say belonged to a wealthy family. The ancient archways that lead from one room to another are still intact. On another level there are the remains of tombs, built into the side of the cavernous walls. On the top level is a wine press. Grapes were poured through a chute leading to a pit where they were smashed down the pressed into wine.
It is this ancient village that the settlers are trying to lay claim to. It is the usual story. They claim it is a religious heritage site, the area becomes a closed military zone and soon (very soon) an “outpost” appears, and then of course another illegal settlement.
The peaceful resistant to the theft of Palestinian land seems never ending, and yet the people remain steadfast. We will remain steadfast with them. Please do what you can to save the life, the land, and the culture of Palestine.

Last year I wrote about Issa, who is paralyzed from the waist down after being shot in his home by the Israeli Occupation Forces. He is, to the center of his being, as man of peace. He teaches his children peace as well as the children of his village with summer camps and well, just hanging out with them in the streets of Hares. However, he does not envision peace for his beloved country, Palestine.
I and my team mates walked the road from Deir Istiya to Issa’s home Hares-walking in order to take pictures of the expansion of Revava, an illegal settlement that has taken thousands of dunums of land from the two villages and is rapidly expanding it’s borders. Last year when I was here you could not see the houses of Revava from the road. Now there are many visible as we walk by, and many more under construction.
Of the expansion of settlements, Issa said, “I see the future as dark.” It is obvious that the state of Israel has little if any control over the ideological settlers they have imported from around the world to occupy the land of Palestine. It has seemed to me that Israel, by arming the settlers, is creating a de facto army which perpetuates violence upon the Palestinians without fear of reprisal from the government. Issa’s study of the situation leads him to a darker conclusion.
He believes the settlers will declare their independence from Israel, setting up a state of their own whose goal will be to take over all of the West Bank. This is a scenario I had not imagined, but makes sense. The settler movement is expanding, becoming more organized, and much more critical of what they see as the state of Israel’s lenient policy towards Palestine. They are blatant in their attacks on Palestinians, having no fear of meaningful reprisal from the Israeli government. As I have noted in earlier posts, some of the Israeli soldiers are actually afraid of the settlers. So yes, the future is dark. Even if Israel and Palestine could reach a deal for peace, the settlers will be, possibly, a greater hurdle to true peace than Israel ever was. But then, there is still hope.
After visiting with Issa and other friends in Haris, we visited again with Munira Amer in Mas’ha. I have already written about her and her family… entirely cut off from her village, her home surrounded by the wall, electrical fences, and Israeli Occupation Forces… her closest “neighbors” hostile settlers and friends and family frightened to visit her. In all this, she has hope for the future. When asked if she feels she made the right decision to stay in her home even after it was turned into a prison, herself her own jailer… she replied that she does feel she made the right decision. She hopes future generations will see her stand and be inspired and emboldened by it.
Perhaps a very tangible sign of hope in a home that would seem to most observers to be without hope is the university work of one of her daughters. She ( I will call her A) is studying interior design. The poverty which this family lives in because of the occupation means their home is sparse of decoration save a few pieces of handmade needlepoint done by Munira. The sitting room furniture is threadbare (though very comfortable!) Anyway, when I heard that A was studying interior design, I though how much sense that does make. Of course she would want to study something that contrasts her personal experience. This really hit home when I saw the work of A.
For one of her class projects she had created what would be a bedroom for teenage girls. It is all done up in pinks and purples. It is spacious with lots of windows to look out. There are bunk beds, two dressers and two desks; each desk has a pink chair to go with it. ( so cute!) There is a large bookcase in the model room and the painting on the ceiling is as bright as that on the walls. It is the dream room of every teenager. But A isn’t every teenager. She has grown up in a prison. She has waited at a gate for enemy soldiers to let her out to get to school, sometimes waiting for hours in the cold rain. She has seen her family’s land illegally confiscated until there is nothing left but a barren military road, a hostile settlement and an apartheid wall to look at. She has seen her father deteriorate into a deep depression. But in her imagination there is a pink and purple bedroom with bunk beds and desks and chairs and lots of books and windows that look out on a pretty landscape.
So the future might be dark… it might be. But hope remains.

Several days ago I was writing about Awarta but could had to stop halfway through as I was in Nabi Salih. I had spent the night there in order to skirt the early morning closure of the village by the IOF.
Now, back to Awarta.
Needless to say there is a level of uncomfortability in going through people’s homes, invading their privacy and taking photos of the carnage left by the IOF. Though I Palestinian friend told me it was no problem I thought I would get a sense of the situation once I arrived in Awarta. Actually, residents were pulling my into their homes, asking me to photograph. (I have found this to be one of the saddest parts of my work, and this was so even back in Iraq…. Innocent people are sure that if the world sees the illegal violence committed against them the international community will stand up for them. This is too often not the case)
So I visited the wrecked homes, took pictures and spoke to many people. I was about to leave when a coule women from the village asked to remain because 1) they wanted international presense and 2) a young girl who had been in prison (PRISON, not a juvenile detention center). So I remained in Awarta with the women and was introduced to a lovely young girl (age 16) who was good friends with Julia and also spoke excellent English. She was the girl who had been locked in a room with her younger siblings for more than 12 hours, her mother detained for questioning.
We spent about an hour chatting; she related how she tried to keep her young siblings calm when she herself was quite terrified hearing the destruction of her home from their locked room, how she wondered if they would ever release her mother. But interspersed with this was her teenage dreams… she was accepted at a prestigious school in Nablus to prepare her for college and she wants to become a physician like her uncle. She also wants to study in America and her school selected her for funding, but her father does not want her to travel abroad alone. She introduced me to her grandparents, who were also detained for a long period of time during the village raids, their fingerprints and DNA taken. Her grandmother laughed at them that would think she, in her 70’s and walking only with the aid of cane, could have walked to Itamar and broke through their security!
I was sitting outside with 10 or so villagers during this time. Then there came a general stir of excitement… Julia was arriving back in the village after her 5 days of imprisonment. Suddenly everyone got up and made their way to the car that had just pulled up. After family greetings, she gave us this report.

(thanks for Jordan ValleySolidarity Group for uploading my video!)
Afterr this report Julia sang the most beautiful song which she said she kept singing to her jailers during her imprisonment. She sang it in English and Arabic. It told of how she didn’t know why she was being held, she didn’t know the answers to their interrogation, she didn’t know if she would ever again see her family or the light of day.
I will try to get that uploaded. The world should hear her song, as it is the song of every political prisoner in Palestine.

On Friday, April 15, the Israeli Occupation forces fire high velocity tear gas cansiters at peaceful demonstrators, many of them young children at the beginning a march toward farmlands and a spring taken over by the illegal settlement of Hallamish. Later in the day they spray toxic “skunk water” in the center of the village, and later still, they fire at least 50 rounds of live ammunition. Luckily, in all this violence perpetuated in innocent people by the IOF, nobody in injured.