The Electronic Intifada 28 June 2024
Muhammad Shaker Safi worked as a teacher of physical education.
On 6 October, I was looking forward to seeing my wife again. She was in Turkey on a business trip.
When I went to bed that night, it did not occur to me that anything unusual was about to happen. Hopefully, I would wake up the next day and drink coffee, put on nice clean clothes and apply some of my favorite cologne.
Little did I expect that the images on the TV screen on the morning of 7 October would signal an impending cataclysm.
Israel’s genocidal war forced me to leave al-Rimal, the Gaza City neighborhood where I lived. I packed some clothes and other essentials and headed toward my family’s home in Khan Younis, southern Gaza.
In Khan Younis, my dreams began to appear more and more distant.
After six failed attempts in Gaza, my wife and I had been planning on traveling to Egypt for in-vitro fertilization. It seemed impossible to make the arrangements now.
I spent two months in Khan Younis before leaving for Rafah further south. Displacement was unbearable.
Eventually, I managed to enter Egypt and found comfort in being reunited with my wife.
Best friends
Yet I cannot erase the memories of what I witnessed during the genocide. I cannot bring back the people we have lost.
My dear friend Muhammad Shaker Safi was among those martyred during this horrible war.
I first met Muhammad in 2008.
My spirits were low at that time. I had begun teaching in a high school and the challenges of my new job weighed heavily on me.
The school corridors felt cold, the classrooms intimidating.
Muhammad taught physical education at the school and helped me break through the gloom. We soon became best friends.
Handsome and cheerful, Muhammad was a beacon of kindness and positivity.
After the school day ended, Muhammad, I and some other teachers would stay behind. We would play table tennis until the evening.
Outside of school, we explored the town together.
We kept in touch after I went to work in another school.
In 2011, I got married and moved to Gaza City.
Muhammad lived in Khan Younis. But he came to see me whenever he was in Gaza City.
During the early stages of the current genocide, Israel fired a missile on the building where Muhammad lived. He was killed instantly.
It was a deep shock to hear the news of Muhammad’s death.
My wife and a number of friends called me, offering condolences. I could not believe what had happened.
The next morning, I made my way to the hospital, where I was told that Muhammad had already been brought to the cemetery.
I hurried there on foot and arrived as the burial was taking place. I never got to bid him a final farewell.
The sorrow deepened as I met Muhammad’s family: his father, siblings and his children Shaker and Amir.
When I embraced Muhammad’s brother, he wept on my shoulder.
Muhammad had called me just two days before his martyrdom.
I miss Muhammad terribly and will cherish my memories of him forever.
Mohamed Al-Masry is a writer from Gaza.
