Sunday, December 8, 2013

His name was Wajeeh ...

I don’t know if I've mentioned this here before, but at times, certain dreadful times, I curse the second I was born a Palestinian, and yesterday was one of those days.
His name was Wajeeh. He was 15 years old. And he was shot in the back and dropped dead with an Israeli sniper's bullet on Dec. 7th of 2013.

When a Palestinian kid gets killed  I try to completely block what his family and friends must be feeling right now, I can’t even go there. Instead, I shift to myself. How silly my life is. How trifle it is. How nervous I was about a 15-minute presentation, and how happy I was that the kids I tutor aren't coming today so I’ll have some extra free-of-stress time. And while I was dueling over these stupid silly matters, a 15 year old was shot by a sniper! An Israeli sniper, and he dropped dead.

And I did nothing about it. I didn't go demanding that the Israeli soldier who committed this crime be held responsible. I didn't try to be there for the family. I didn't go to Qalandia checkpoint (hellpoint) and just let all my anger out on an Israeli prick-head soldier .No. All I did was; curse the second I was born a Palestinian. 

Because it's not okay, and it doesn't make sense. He's been dead for almost a day now and life seems to be moving on rather normally. People went to their jobs, kids to their schools, soldiers to their normal hellpoints, Israelis and Palestinians are still negotiating ... Life is moving on, and that's not fair. 

I wish that for once, time would stand still, jobs would stand still, schools would stand still, everything will be frozen, just once; so we can mourn the loss of this child, so we can be there for his family, so we can bring that Israeli monster to justice. Just for once, time should stand still.

Then again when “something” like this happens,we’re supposed to look forward for a better future instead of focusing on this “sad incident”, we're supposed to hang on to hope and not let it die, and with it try to create a better future where 15 year old children who are playing football with their friends won't get shot in the back by a sniper. But I can’t.

I lose every notion of hope or desire to build a better future. I can’t even alter the present, so what of the future? What’s the point of creating a better future when those who suffered and deserved to be in it, are no longer with us?

Still, this brighter future will come eventually. But it will never be bright enough or good enough.
Because Wajeeh won’t be in it.
Because  Nour Muhammad ‘Afana won’t be in it.
Because Mousa Fansha , Mahmoud Khaled al-Najjar and Mohammed Fouad Nayroukh won’t be in it.

The day when kids will play football safely, and girls go to the hospital for medicine without dying on checkpoints, and people walking safely to their houses in Palestine will come. No doubt. It’s the circle of life, at times you’re oppressed, at others you’re free.

But when that time comes, it’ll be too late. Too many have lost their kids, sacrificed, betrayed, hated, lost, mourned, died, and died, and died.

Rest in peace all of you, and all those from days gone by, and all those who are yet to come. 

                                "I apologize for using this picture, but the 
                                                 truth should be demonstrated as it is." 

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