A Letter from the death of Sabra Wa Shatela – from Mohammad Arafat, Gaza

– Before I begin my tragic words, I want to tell you that I`m the country of the massacres. I`m the country of tragic situations. I`m the country of blood and martyrs. Do you know me? I`m of course Palestine. I`m the mother of Gaza, Ramallah, Jenin and Nablus. I`m the mother of the occupied Jaffa and Haifa. They belong to me because they are my children. They love me as I love them. I lost a lot of them. I lost Jaffa and Haifa. I lost my oldest daughter Jerusalem. I lost Gaza before it came back to me. I have been suffering a lot since 1948. I bet that other mothers don`t suffer like me. I bet that they don`t lose any of their children like me. They live in love and humanness and I live in nothing. I just live in suffering and torture. I have not lived in happiness or even seen it. I used to meet sadness and sorrow. Did you know why I began introducing my name? I did that because I have many enemies who hate the name of Palestine. I did that to make them avoid me and get off me when I narrate what will be narrated in this article.
– I want to say that I had and still have many massacres occurred by my enemies. They used to kill my nation. They resulted Dier Yaseen and Sabra wa Shatilla massacres. Many of my children have been killed and injured. There were more than 1000 martyr just in those massacres. Of course as usual, other countries did nothing then. They just folded their arms and looked at me and at my innocent children while we were suffering and being killed. They were silent and are still. So will they open their deaf ears and hear their brothers` moaning?
 – At the end of 1982, I met one daughter of mine. She was full of blood and binky bangs. She was still bleeding and suffering of the pain. My daughter was wearing a white coffin. It was also spotted with blood. I did not have fear of that seen. Do you know why? I did not because she is my daughter. She is my beloved daughter…… She told me her story and how she was killed.
-Her name was sabra wa shatela. She is a refugee who was forced to go out Palestine and live in Lebanon. She was so tired and exhausted. She could not stand in front of me to narrate of paining , so she found a broken seat to have……and then she began ” my mum, I’m so tired and I might pass away soon. I hope I can complete my story to you before I die. The militia and the Zionist occupation invaded me at a night of September 1982. My innocent people were sleeping in safe and sound. They were dreaming of the future. They were dreaming of how to get their food and water. They were dreaming of the future of their children, but they did not know their fate…. Accidently, the bombs and missiles began in my camps. The raids and assassinations policy entered the camps. The flame of the fire began to be seen. The shouting and screaming began to be heard and the moaning began to touch the people who have consciences. The families in the camps began to call the deaf people. The children of my families started to cry after the beautiful dreams. The girls and the boys were shouting. Many of eldest sick passed out of the fear, but the young men were brave and steady.
-The militias and the Zionists started their imperious arrogant assault. They had rifles and pistols. They had pockets full of bullets. Many heavy weapons were there. They destroyed the small houses of my families. They burnt them with fire, so the smoke began to go out of them. I then became like a black piece of burnt wood. ”
-” Then the militaries attacked the houses and started killing the innocent people. They killed many families completely from the old man to the little child. They killed pregnant mothers with their babies. They killed old sick men and women who cannot defend themselves. They burnt and killed children who don`t know what was going on or even why they live in that land. They burnt the tents of the refugees. So the final scene of the camp became full of blood and many corpses were spreading on the land”. 
 – My daughter paused her speech and began to cry. I asked her not cry because our luck is this. Allah gave us this and we must respect and accept what Allah does with us. She told me that she have many tragic sad scenes in her mind, so she had to cry in order to get them off her mind…. Then she resumed her speech and completed” my mum, my innocent pure families are now under ground. I know they will get to the precious paradises Inshallah and the murderers will get to the hell ….. My mum, when will other countries think of us and hear our voice? When will they stop the massacres? When will they protect the Al- Aqsa mosque? When will they release our prisoners? Our detainees are suffering in the jails every day. The jailers did not stop torturing them……Will others hear their voice or not yet? When will they free my brothers and sisters? When will they free you my mum? When will they remember that there is a country called Palestine is about to be erased from the map? Will they realize that we live in tragic situations? When will they force the enemies to stop building the settlements? We are their brothers not their enemies. We belong to them as they belong to us.. We are not from the Venus or even the Mars. We are from this earth. Is that believable that they forgot us quickly?…. My mum, I must stop talking and let my brothers and sisters to complete our tragic continuous stories. 
 -That was one of my children called Sabra wa Shatella, she forced to go out Palestine and to live in Lebanon. So why you don`t look at my family?. We don`t need your help because we know who you are. We just need you to pray to Allah to protect and help us. Will you answer my children screaming? I hope yes!!!
One day I will be FREE!!!
Done by Mohammad S Arafat

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