1946

“I used to help my father out in the fields. We grew tomatoes, cucumbers, and

watermelons. We took the vegetables on our donkeys to the markets in Yafa

and Mulabbis. When I had time off, I played football with my friends. I did not

have a real football, so I made one out of cloth and string. My mother helped

me.”

1948

“We loaded furniture and mattresses onto a donkey and walked the whole way.

My father had to carry my grandfather on his back; he was one hundred years

old. We left the village in the afternoon and walked for two days, without food

or water. Along the way we picked oranges and apples. The first night we rested

for only a couple of hours. We reached al-Tira the following night. We had barely

settled in when the Israeli military attacked from three directions. We fled, but

my father decided to try to return to al-Tira to fetch wheat and food for us.

Meanwhile we reached a village between Taiba and Tulkarm. There were caves

there where we spent the night. My father returned with wheat flour. There was

plenty of water, and my mother baked bread over an open fire. We stayed in the

caves for three weeks before continuing to Qalqilya, in al-Diffa al-Gharbia.

Eventually our relatives found us. They came with donkeys and took us to their

village, Mas-ha. My father began looking for work.”

1967

“I was still serving in the Jordanian army. We had weapons, but I never saw any

Israeli soldiers. They attacked us only from the air, with planes, constantly.

Many soldiers in the Jordanian army were killed. I was lucky to survive. We

retreated to Mount Nebo Mousa, where we were trapped without food or water.

We were terribly thirsty. I set off on my own down the mountain to my family in

the Akbat Jaber refugee camp.

When I arrived at the camp it was almost empty; the houses were abandoned,

the doors left open. After Israel’s occupation, most of the camp’s 30,000

inhabitants had fled to al-Urdunn (Jordan). Only 5,000 people remained in the

camp, including my family. They could not afford to flee. I had brought my radio

equipment with me and heard that the military leadership ordered all Palestinians

to cross east of the Jordan River, to al-Urdunn. But I refused. My family was in

the camp, and I decided to stay in al-Diffa al-Gharbia.”

2002

“During a clash with the Israeli military here in the Balata refugee camp, my son

Khalil was killed. Another of my sons, Jihad, attempted to carry out a suicide

bombing together with a companion. They were supposed to pass the border

crossing in Qalqilya, but the Israeli army knew of their plans and was waiting for

them. Jihad and his companion blew themselves up.

I am still waiting to get his body back. It remains in Israel. I have Jihad’s portrait

here on the wall, together with his two other brothers. I have paid a high price;

in total I have lost three sons. But I am not upset or angry. There are martyrs in

the Qur’an, the Torah, and the Bible. God chose my sons to be martyrs. For that

I am grateful, not angry.”

Interpreter: ‘Abd Yusuf.