Palestwinians.

Why?

"When looking towards the world for answers; know that your search will be feeble" - Me

Chapter 4 - Why?

The next few days were uneventful with my basic routine of uni and study, until finally it was Friday. It was the afternoon and I was in my last lecture of the day, Psychological Interventions, counting down the minutes until 3pm. Usually I would be engrossed in what the lecturer was saying but for some reason I was on edge today and just wanted to get out of here.

Finally at five past 3 my lecturer had the good grace to stop talking and as I was leaving the lecture hall I was stopped by Salma.

“Salams girly,” she said hugging me and smiling widely as usual.

“Wasalams beautiful. Where have you been?!” I asked hugging her back. I hadn’t seen Salma since our history lecture on Monday morning and that was unusual since she was usually bobbing around campus, talking to everyone. It was hard to miss her.

“I’ve been so busy lately, you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been baby-sitting for mum since she’s sick and on top of that I have 5 exams in the next two weeks. Then I visit the orphanage every afternoon.” She sighed dramatically. “But Alhamdulillah,” she said the smile returning to her face.

She was honestly so amazing and I was proud of how she could maintain such a busy lifestyle. Ma Sha Allah, Salma had 7 little siblings with her being the oldest and I could only imagine how much of a toll it would have on her to babysit them. The last time I went home with her, I had only stepped one foot in the door before I was thrown to the ground and had 7 kids screaming in my face. I may or may not have peed a little in my pants. Apparently screaming uncontrollably for no apparent reason at your guests is entertaining for children these days. I worry for the next generation.

“You’ll get through it like you always do Salma,” I said reassuringly. I cringed a little before I said, “if you need any help baby sitting the little ones just let me know.”

She thanked me and when she saw another one of our friends, Shaymah, she ran off to hug her. I waved and blew a kiss at Shaymah and Salma before heading out. Usually I would stay back to hang but I was honestly not in the mood.

As I was walking I remembered that tomorrow and after I’d have to head to the orphanage as well. It was one of the highlights of my week. It was a small Palestinian orphanage that had children from the ages of newborn to sixteen. I had used the kids for survey once, for one of my psychological reports and to say the data that I had gathered was shocking, is an understatement. 90% of the children’s parents were killed by Israeli forces and 1/3 children had no desire or saw no purpose in living.

When I was conducting the survey last year, Ehab, a four-year-old boy who I held so close to my heart, explained to me that he didn’t want to live in this world anymore. When I asked him why, he said that he wanted to ‘stop seeing mummy die in my dreams’. He was one of the children that witnessed their parents dead bodies. After that he had cried in my arms and asked me if I would be his new mum. I remember saying ofcourse, kissing him on the head and then immediately walking off. I had locking myself in the bathroom and cried for a good twenty minutes. From that day I made it my mission to ensure that each and every kid in that orphanage had a goal to strive for in their life, no matter how trivial it was.

I was heading to Zach’s house because I missed his mother immensely. I hadn’t seen her for a while mainly because of uni and the fact that Zach was always at my house. Regardless, I always tried to make time for her; she truly was a beautiful woman. There was something in the manner and characteristics of Zach’s mother that reminded me of my grandmother who passed away last year, Allah yerhama. They were both so open and caring, always there to give you a hug and make you feel better, just by sharing a look of understanding with you.