Diaries: Live from Palestine

A bankrupt Ramadan in Gaza


The situation is desperate here in Gaza, the coastal strip that is abundant with nothing except human beings. Just a couple of hours before Iftaar, the time of day after sunset when Muslims break their fast during the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims around the globe shop to prepare. Gaza’s crowded Khan Younis is no exception. However, though they may be thronged with people, Gaza’s markets are lacking any holiday festivity or commerce. EI correspondent Rami Almeghari reports from Gaza. 

Sarah, Mahmoud and Yehya


Sarah Abu Ghazal’s school uniform still lay on her mattress, untouched as she had left it before running out after her cousins Mahmoud and Yehya Abu Ghazal on Wednesday, 29 August. She was to begin the fourth grade on 2 September, but her friend Amani, who has accompanied her to school since the first grade, would walk alone this year. Sarah’s mother had bought her the blue school uniform, blue jeans and the black shoes just the day before she was killed by Israel tank fire. Her mother waited until the last minute to buy Sarah’s school supplies because she was waiting for her husband’s salary which he had not received since June. 

"How will I care for my children?"


“May God close the eyes of anyone who attempts to shut down the al-Salah charitable society that provides us our living.” So said Halima Abu ‘Isa, a 45-year-old widow and mother of two in reaction to the decision of the Palestinian Authority in Ramallah to close down 103 Palestinian charities. The monthly allowance of 900 shekels (US $230) that Abu ‘Isa receives from al-Salah, an Islamic charity with links to Hamas, is the only thing that stands between her and destitution. EI correspondent Rami Almeghari reports on how the decision will affect her and thousands of other charity-dependant Palestinians. 

Is this Jericho or Hell?


My husband and I left Amman at dawn with our three-month-old-son, and arrived at the Jordanian border control just after 8am. From there its a few minutes’ drive to the Israeli section of the border, then three-and-a-half hours of sitting in a sweltering hot bus waiting at the entrance to the border compound. It was 40 degrees celsius outside, and the stationary bus was like a greenhouse. Inside the compound, Israeli officers took me to one side as I was going through the x-ray. What followed was seven hours of waiting and wondering. 

In Gaza's darkness, life goes on


On Tuesday, Gaza was plunged into complete isolation and darkness as the electricity was cut off. It was like being in the stone age; movement was paralyzed during the day and there was total blackout at night. When there is no power, there is also no water: most houses use electricity to pump water up to their roof tanks. Muhammad, six, and his little sister had to carry water bottles home because they had no household supply. EI’s correspondent in Gaza, Rami Almegari reports. 

The king's pardon


Throughout history there has been a misconception concerning the true nature and influence of power. Many of us recognize correctly that power comes from strength, but where we fail to capture it is in the recognition of its ultimate use. To most of us, power — especially within the context of occupation — is determined by one’s ability to inflict violence unilaterally and with impunity. However, this is wrong. Power, in its ultimate and perhaps most abusive form, is the ability to pardon. Anyone can kill but only the king can pardon — the acceptance of which by the pardoned is the recognition of the king and his power. 

Watching Gaza collapse


Today I went with my cousin’s wife and her children to Gaza’s social welfare office to pick up her monthly paycheck from the government. My cousin was killed last September by an Israeli sniper while he stood in front of his house. Overnight his children and wife became eligible to receive 375 NIS (a little less than $100) a month from the Palestinian government because their father was now a martyr. Yassmin Moor in Gaza writes that this is their third time coming to the office in the last month, because every time they go it’s closed. 

Al-Faraheen's victims of Israeli pretexts


Surveillance cameras and watchtowers loom over more than 800 meters away from the scene of destruction left by Israeli army tanks and bulldozers following the latest Israeli invasion of the al-Faraheen area in Abbassan al-Kabeera town, to the east of Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip. “Fifteen dunums [four acres] of tomatoes along with 400 meters of irrigation pipes were crushed by the Israeli tanks during the invasion into our area, where myself and two other partners make our living,” says Samir al-Naqa, a local farmer in the al-Faraheen area. EI correspondent Rami Almeghari interviews some of those affected by Israel’s latest campaign of destruction. 

When Olmert and Abbas shake hands


On Monday, Israeli occupation authority Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and occupied Palestinian Authority (PA) president Mahmoud Abbas once again met and shook hands, each promising respective constituents that a so-called “peaceful solution” is near. Olmert “agreed” that cooperation between Israel and the PA will expand, something that is not lost on the millions of occupied Palestinians who continue to suffer each day as many other things expand beneath their feet — the settlement colonies, the apartheid wall, the egregious acts of violence and oppression enacted by the Israeli occupation military. 

Rifkah and my mother


Today was the first time in the past seven years that I entered Jerusalem legally. I have a green West Bank Palestinian ID, which means that since the 2000 intifada started and the wall was built, I’m forbidden from entering any part of Israel as well as Jerusalem, which is only 20 minutes away from my home town of Ramallah. However, this hasn’t stopped me from going there. I would climb sandy hills opposite to Qalandia checkpoint (the main checkpoint at the entrance of Jerusalem), hide behind buildings from the sight of the Israeli soldiers, and sneak into Jerusalem. 

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