Shadow of Resistance

Chapter Thirty Two

I return to our room and inform my siblings and Salah about the situation. Each family quickly packs up their belongings, taking whatever essentials they can carry. The UNRWA distributes some canned food and cleaning supplies to us before we leave. We move behind each other by cars through the specified route to the south.

As we drive south, we witness thousands of people trudging along the road, carrying their belongings on foot for hundreds of kilometres. It's heartbreaking to see an elderly woman, who looks more than ninety years old, struggling to walk, leaning heavily on her son. I also see a lot of carriages pulled by donkeys, overloaded with families, for a long distance.

Suddenly, several bombs explode in rapid succession along the route. The same route that was supposed to be safe, turns into a nightmarish scene, cars burst into flames, people scatter in panic, and the air is thick with fear. It feels like a horrifying game, but the stakes are real, with our lives on the line.

I pull the car to the side of the road, "It's too dangerous to keep driving. We need to leave the car and walk the rest of the way on a different path." I say.

We grab as much as we can carry and head away from the main route. As we distance ourselves, the road behind us resembles a war zone, burning cars, thick smoke billowing into the sky, and the sounds of chaos lingering in the air. Salah didn't stop with us, and continued in this chaos. I don't know if we are going to see them again, I just hope they finish the remaining part safely.

We are about ten kilometres from the safe area, so it is bearable to walk in one go. We started walking it, but the girls struggled in the middle so we needed to make a stop.

We stop at a water station about three kilometres from the safe zone. We drink eagerly, and we all rest for an hour, gathering our strength for the final stretch. When we finally reach the displacement camp, it's nearly nightfall. The camp is packed with tents, lined up one beside the other, stretching as far as the eye can see.

As we walk through the camp, I hear someone selling tents. The price is steep, far more than it should be, but we have no other choice. We purchase one, and he offers to set it up for an extra fee. Despite the exhaustion, we decided to save the money and build it ourselves.

I kneel down to the girls, who look exhausted from the journey. "How about we try camping?" I say with a grin, trying to lift their spirits.

"Yes!" they scream together, their excitement momentarily pushing away the fatigue.

We find an empty space in the camp and start setting up the tent. None of us really know what we're doing, and the process is frustrating, but Omar and I do our best to make it fun. We joke around, pretend to be expert campers, and even have a little competition to see who can figure out the next step first. It took us an hour to build it, but Omar and I tried to make the process fun for them.

We finally step inside the tent and put our things down.I lay my tired body on the ground, grateful that this long, chaotic day has finally come to an end.

But just as I begin to relax, Mariam's soft voice cuts through the silence. "Why do they do all of this to us?" she asks while laying beside me. "Why do they call it their land? Is it?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before I begin. "Alright, Mariam, let me tell you a story, a very long one. This land has a history that stretches back thousands of years. The first people to live here were called the Canaanites. They were here long before anyone else. Then prophet Isaac was born here, who is also known as Israel. That's where the name 'Israel' comes from. At one point, when there was a terrible famine in this land, they migrated to Egypt. They stayed there for many years, and their descendants, who became known as the Jews, lived in Egypt for generations.

Eventually, a time came when the Jews were suffering under harsh rule in Egypt, and Prophet Moses led them out of Egypt, and they were supposed to return here, to this land. But when they saw that there were wars and challenges ahead, they refused to enter. They told Moses to go on his own. Because of their disobedience, God punished them, and they wandered lost in the desert for forty years before they could finally enter this land.

After they entered the land, they established their own kingdom and lived here for many years. Over time, their kingdom split, and wars broke out between them. This is why they claim it as their land, because they lived here thousands of years ago. But if we look at the last few hundred years, this land was part of the Ottoman Empire, an Islamic empire , for a long time. It remained that way until after World War I, when Britain took control and colonised it.

When the Holocaust happened and Jews faced horrific persecution worldwide, many of them came here as refugees, seeking safety from the injustice they faced. We welcomed them, offering them homes and shelter. But as their numbers and strength grew, things changed.

In 1948, they began committing terrible massacres against Palestinians. We tried to resist, but they were stronger. They displaced most of us to Gaza and the west bank. Your grandmother is displaced from a beautiful village called Qatra by the way.

So it is our land, and their claim that this is their land doesn't even give them the right to do all these massacres and kill all these innocent civilians."

I finish the story and look over at her, only to see that she has drifted off to sleep. Her peaceful face, so serene with her eyes gently closed, makes me smile despite everything. I lay my head down beside her and let sleep take over.