Once I was a college pupil, each morning, we’d collect within the schoolyard and sing songs devoted to our land, Palestine. A lot of our lessons would educate us about our tradition and traditions deeply rooted in Palestinian land.
Each March 30, we’d mark Land Day. Women would put on embroidered attire and boys would put on white shirts and keffiyeh. We might sing underneath a raised Palestinian flag and commemorate the Palestinian land battle.
I absolutely realised the true which means of what I used to be taught about this battle solely once I confronted displacement from my residence, once I confronted the very actual chance of shedding my land.
I used to be born and raised within the Shujayea neighbourhood on the jap flank of Gaza Metropolis. It’s a centuries-old neighbourhood, the place farmers and merchants settled. Over time, it grew to become one in all Gaza’s most densely populated neighbourhoods, recognized for its robust group ties and historical past of resistance. It’s no coincidence that one in all its most outstanding folks was Dr Refaat Alareer, a poet, a scholar, and my professor in English, who impressed me to write down and resist.
My household has lived in Shujayea for hundreds of years. They constructed residence after residence in the identical space till they created a protracted avenue often known as Mushtaha Avenue. This isn’t only a title; it’s a testomony to simply how deep our roots run on this land.
We not solely have our houses in Shujayea but in addition our farmland. I grew up enjoying on my grandfather’s olive grove, which he had inherited from his ancestors. The olive bushes taught us find out how to love our land, and find out how to be steadfast like them.
I’ve by no means thought, even for a minute, of leaving my residence, my neighbourhood. As a baby, I by no means dreamed of dwelling elsewhere, I needed to remain the place my ancestors had fortunately lived, to inherit the land, to are likely to the olive bushes.
The primary time we needed to flee our Shujayea was when Israel attacked in 2014. I used to be very younger at the moment, however I bear in mind each single second of our evacuation. I bear in mind the missiles and shrapnel flying round and the sound of the screaming and crying. It was a traumatic expertise, however all through it, I used to be positive that we’d quickly return.
Then, it occurred once more virtually 10 years later. All through the genocide, my household and I needed to flee our residence greater than 10 occasions. The longest we needed to steer clear of our neighbourhood was three months. However we by no means went too far. Regardless of the extraordinarily troublesome situations, we didn’t flee to the south; we stayed within the north.
Shujayea endured two invasions throughout this battle, the primary in December 2023, and the second in June 2024. The second got here all of the sudden, with out warning, on a summer time morning whereas residents had been nonetheless of their houses.
When the Israeli tanks reached Shujayea, they focused markets and outdated eating places, electrical energy poles and water pumps, levelling many areas till they had been unrecognisable. The once-busy streets turned gray with destruction.
My household residence was bombed and partially destroyed. My grandfather’s land was not spared both. The bushes that stood for generations, that gave fruit numerous seasons, had been uprooted and burned.
The lack of his olive grove proved an excessive amount of for my grandfather. Inside three months of listening to the devastating information, he handed away.
Right now, we face the prospect of being displaced as soon as once more. Folks from the jap a part of Shujayea have began fleeing underneath threats from the Israeli military as soon as once more. We have no idea what will occur subsequent. Persons are afraid however are nonetheless hoping there shall be one other ceasefire.
This 12 months, marking Land Day carries a unique which means: Regardless of the persevering with genocidal battle, we’re nonetheless right here, we’re nonetheless standing, and we’re nonetheless holding on to the land that we inherited from our ancestors. We won’t hand over.
On today, I bear in mind Dr Alareer’s poem:
O, Earth
Hug me
And maintain me tight
Or devour me
To endure no extra.
I like thee
So take me.
Make me wealthy.
Make me dust.
Gone are the times of serenity.
Weapons are the phrases of humanity.
I’ve no meals however a thorn,
No sport however a sigh.
For a soldier must really feel excessive.
O, Earth,
If in life I’m to harm
Let my dust in you give start.
O, Earth.
The views expressed on this article are the creator’s personal and don’t essentially replicate Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
