Voice of Women
Issue no. 289
May 22nd, 2008
In this issue:
A witness to the Nakba (The Palestinian Catastrophe of 1948)
The young inherit the refugees' land ownership documents and keys
A witness to the Nakba (The Palestinian Catastrophe of 1948)
By Basam Al Kabi
Huseiba, an elderly woman from Al A'mari refugee camp recalls being forced at gunpoint to leave her home in the village of Al Malha, located southwest of Jerusalem. These are some of the saddest memories of her life. "I can still remember the body of a young man lying on our doorstep," she says. "His name was N'uman; he had come to our town to help evacuate the resident since the aggression and the violence that we were facing from the Zionist movements were getting worse. It was this young man's fate to die that day when an Israeli bullet went straight into his chest." As she remembers the events of that time, she finds a more comfortable position on her bed, where she lies talking to us. "Back then, my husband was very ill," she says. "So with the help of some relatives I gathered some of my children's belongings and fled to the eastern side of Beit Jala. We stayed there on the outskirts for about a year, then we moved to the village of Turmous Aya, which is located to the north of Ramallah. But when it was announced that refugee camps were being set up, we relocated to the Al Amari refugee camp near Al Bireh.
Huseiba tells us how she has lived through several eras during her lifetime. She lived for a few months under the Ottoman occupation until the British forces occupied Palestine in 1917. She then lived for about 30 years under British occupation until the West Bank came under Jordanian administration, and then eventually under Israeli occupation. She was expelled from her home a second time when Israel took control of the remaining Palestinian lands in 1967.
Huseiba now lives under the Palestinian Authority, which regained control over some Palestinian towns after signing the Oslo Accords in 1993. However, the Israeli forces again invaded some of the Palestinian cities under the administration of the Palestinian Authority about five years ago.
Huseiba, now ninety-one, is among the oldest of the Palestinian refugees. Her memory remains clear and she is able to recall all of these events through which she lived which changed her life fundamentally and made her a refugee who has had to move from place to place throughout the past 60 years.
Huseiba had four children before her forced immigration and she now has grandchildren. She tells us that she takes great care to teach her children and her grandchildren the history behind the worst example of massacres witnessed by humanity in this region. She is also careful to preserve her Ottoman documents which verify that she is the legal owner of her land.
Before we leave Huseiba to meet with a representative of the Ministry of Media, Jaleb Albes, administrator of Al Amari refugee camp and Younis Abu Al Reesh, administrator of the camp's youth center, we focus our cameras on two of Huseiba's grandchildren. Ahmad Amer lies on the bed near his grandmother. He has been paralyzed from the waist down sine he was shot by Israeli soldiers during the first Intifada, when his younger brother Hussein was also hurt. How could the next generation forget the history of the Nakba? Or the Palestinian issue?
Our mission is to capture firsthand memories of the Nakba, documenting people's stories of the forced expulsions and massacres that they experienced. As we walk we notice a monument to the martyrs killed by Israeli soldiers during the first and second intifadas.
The refugee camp, a maze of small, narrow streets which comprises no more 100 dunums, is home to around 7 000 refugees. Similar conditions are found in other refugee camps.
The stories told by the elderly people who experienced the Nakba will be passed on from generation to generation just as the land is inherited. The younger generation has great determination to realize their right to return to their villages, conscious of how their ancestors were forcefully and violently removed from their homes. This was evident during the activities that were held to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Nakba. Youth participated in all of the national activities, determined to assert their identities as they honored the memory of the 531 villages from which their ancestors were expelled.
Their persistence in demanding justice indicates that the right to return is something sacred and nonnegotiable. It is amazing to see the younger children holding their old identify cards high along with their birth certificates which carry their family name; the determination that they show is proof that there can be no solution to the Palestinian issue if the refugees' right to return is ignored.
Young inheritors of the refugees' land ownership documents and keys
By Fayez Abu Awn
Huda at first appears to be an average five-year-old. But when one spends some time with her, one's perspective of her tends to change as surprise, or perhaps sympathy, creeps in. Huda has a continuous smile on her face as she greets visitors to the museum, which is featuring a display of photos of Palestine and Palestinian heritage. Huda Basam Al Dash, who lives in the Zaytoun neighborhood in Gaza City, is participating in the activities organized to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Al Nakba. She is wearing the tradition Palestinian peasant dress, handstitched with sequins and silk thread by Palestinian artisans. In her hands she holds a sign which reads: Safad, my town: I will never let go of you no matter how much time passes.
We approach her and ask her about the sign. "This is the name of my real hometown, which my parents and grandparents were forced to leave in 1948," she says. "My father and grandfather often tell me about our town, Safad, and about the trees that were there… olives, oranges, pomegranates and grapes. My father tells me that the Israelis occupied our land after they kicked out my grandparents and took over everything in the town. I would like to go back to it one day. I will never forget my town: even if they gave me all the money in the world I would never let it go; not even an ounce of its dirt would I surrender!" And then she runs off to join her friends from the Islamic Huda Kindergarten. They perform a folkloric dabka dance for the visitors.
Another child, Aseel Hussan, who is twelve and lives in Ain Jaloot in Al Nasreeyat refugee camp in central Gaza, does not seem any less attached to her original home. Her family is from Al Mugar, which is now part of the Israeli state – land which Palestinians call the 1948 Israeli-occupied territories. "Even though I've never seen my town," she tells us, "I see my land, its sky and its trees in my heart. I see my grandfather under the trees and my grandmother cooking in her oven in my mind, because these memories live inside of me and grow with me."
I explain to Aseel that we are journalists and she begins to tell us about her town: the number of people that were living there at the time of the Catastrophe, the different kinds of fruit that grew there, where exactly the town is located on the map and the names of the neighboring villages.
When I ask her who taught her all of this she points to her father. He is an active member of the People's Committee in Al Burj refugee camp. He tells us that he constantly tells his children about Al Mugar and the villages that surround it inside the Palestinian '48 land. He explains how the family was expelled and describes the massacres that were committed by the Zionist militias and how the family ended up in Gaza.
Aseel tells us more. "I've seen pictures that were taken by my uncles when they went to visit our village long ago. I saw the ruins of the destroyed houses and the orange trees that have been uprooted from the ground along with the grapes and figs. About 1 800 people lived in our town when they were expelled; now the number of people from our town has grown to about 25 000, scattered in various towns and refugee camps in the West Bank and Gaza.
"My father told me that my grandfather is older than the state of Israel and that Israel never really existed before. The Jews were scattered in different countries of the world and in order for Britain to get rid of them it created a national homeland for them in Palestine which destroyed the Palestinian nation, forcing the people to leave their homes. But we will never forget or let go of our right to return. I will always remember my parents' and ancestors' land for as long as I live. I will be sure to tell my children and my grandchildren in the future about it as well."
Maha Mohammed Mansour, who is 14, shares her point of view with us. "No effort to attain your rights is ever lost. We are simply asking for something that is rightfully ours. And so we will never lose our land -- even if the Israelis lived in it for thousands of years it will return to us because that is what is written in the Quran and what God and our prophet Mohammed said."
"My father hangs the key to the house in Birka, which belongs to his father and grandfather, in the middle of the room, so we have become very attached to it. He often draws our attention to the key and shows us the legal papers to our land. He keeps the papers hidden in a small box with our other valuables. Each year he takes out the box as a remembrance of the Nakba and begins to tell us stories of the Nakba that he has memorized over the years."
Maha stresses to us that it is impossible for the Palestinian people to forget the land of their fathers and ancestors, because returning to our homeland after being kick out by the Israelis is a hope that we thrive on and live for and so will the next generation: it is like the water that we drink and that air the we breath.
These three girls defined for us what it means to hold on to your land and the determination to return to it no matter how much time passes. Justice is never lost as long as the struggle continues. And so the right to return continues to be a secure right that will never fade away and can never be compromised.
