“We don’t have oxygen”, says a doctor from Rafiedia hospital in Nablus. “There are 14 premature babies in incubators who need oxygen and we have an additional twenty-two critically sick and injured, who desperately need oxygen.”
We are now working and coordinating with relevant agencies to get oxygen, which is ready, to get to the hospital. However, the truck which was supposed to pick up the oxygen was shot at and the driver had to get evacuated from the truck.
Everyone is afraid that as the truck with oxygen will try to get through it will be shoot at, which will explode not only the truck but also the escort. If the babies and critically sick and wounded don’t get the oxygen soon, they will all die.
I just spoke with my cousin Ghadir. She is worrying sick about her family in Nablus. “Can you tell me who was killed in al-Kasaba?” she asked. At first I didn’t, because I used to live in Ras al-Ain, a street just above the old city.
I was afraid that I would read a name of someone I know. I couldn’t resist Ghadir’s appeal to know. When I started reading the first five names, I stopped. They were all from the same family, brothers. The list continued. The same family name: Rimawi. Six more brothers, also from the same family. Eleven members of the same family, killed.
The phone line was quiet for a few minutes.