we are not numbers
emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights
Israeli jailers neglected his medical needs when he was inside prison and when he needed assistance returning home.
The author’s Uncle Khaled Shaqoura, in a photo taken by a journalist after his Israeli prison experience. On the right, Khaled in better times shortly before this ongoing war; photo taken by Sara’s cousin. Photos provided by Sara Awad
“Since that day, I knew that I would never see my prosthesis or my wheelchair again,” my aunt’s husband said through his tears. Uncle Khaled Shaqoura, 56, was referring to Nov. 5, 2024, when he and his family were forced to flee from their home in the Jabaliya refugee camp and he was arrested at a checkpoint by the Israeli army. He was imprisoned for five months in very harsh conditions.
Uncle Khaled’s left leg had been amputated in 2004 after an Israeli assault on the Gaza Strip. He was able to get a prosthesis and resume a normal life. Until the day of his arrest, he had been completely independent, able to do whatever he needed to. As an amputee, he had expected to cross the Israeli checkpoint in his wheelchair. For no reason, Israeli soldiers confiscated the prosthesis for his leg, as well as his wheelchair and even his glasses. He had also suffered from blockage in the mesh vessels in his right eye, which regulate blood pressure in the eye. The Israeli soldiers ignored all these health issues.
Like the majority of Gazan prisoners, Uncle Khaled was transferred from one Israeli secret torture camp to another and beaten several times by his jailers. He was first detained in Sde Teiman jail in the Negev desert near the border with Gaza, “the worst prison I’ve ever been in.” Soldiers blindfolded and handcuffed the prisoners the entire time. They received a pittance of food and were allowed only one shower a month. Talking with other prisoners was a punishable crime. They experienced constant psychological and physical torture.
“I ask for a chair to sit down, so they give me a slap on my face instead,” Uncle Khaled told me. Even the prisoners’ sleep was under attack. Prisoners were only permitted five hours of sleep per day, from midnight to 5 a.m. The jailers told them, “If you sleep more than that, you will be punished by not being allowed to sleep at all.” He still has anxiety about falling asleep.
Uncle Khaled asked for a doctor to check his leg after it continued bleeding for a couple of hours, but the jailers refused his request. Indeed, they treated him worse than before. They forced him to run around his tiny cell for 10 minutes at a time without any breaks. Predictably, his abuse brought more serious health risks. A clot developed in his good leg, and so then he was suffering in both legs.
Equally predictable was the indifference shown by his Israeli jailers when he was released and needed assistance to return home. “No one provided for any medical assistance for me,” Uncle Khaled told me. I was astonished and saddened to learn how hard he tried to obtain medical assistance for his many difficult and dangerous health conditions, only to be met with complete indifference by the Israelis working in the prison.
But if the guards refused to help, many imprisoned Gazans stepped up to help him take care of his basic needs, even though they were suffering in the same conditions.
Uncle Khaled spent 10 days on the ground without clothes or blankets; soldiers kept him blindfolded and handcuffed during that time. As a man who lost one leg and was suffering pain in his other leg, a man who could not see without his glasses, Khaled asked the soldiers politely if he could open his eyes, but of course they rudely refused even this simple request.
Israel uses mental anguish as a weapon against all Palestinian prisoners. Fortunately, my uncle understood that and was able to separate himself from the poison in the abusers’ souls. “I was completely aware that one day I would be free from this hell; I felt reassured knowing I would see my big family soon.”
But he was anxious about them, too. Uncle Khaled was constantly worrying about how they were going to get through the ongoing war. He was particularly concerned about Mohammed, his firstborn and only son. He said, “My lovely wife was in my heart and soul all the time.”
I can understand that. My aunt is the most loyal wife I have ever seen in my entire life. She was praying for him every day.
After five months behind bars, he was finally released.
When he learned that he would be released, he was excited, expecting to finally be able to walk with his prosthesis and be reunited with his family. But the Israeli army opted to steal it, telling him: “Khaled, there’s no prosthesis anymore.”
Uncle Khaled’s life was turned upside down by the theft of the medical equipment he requires. He has had to go back to square one, asking for a new prosthesis and a new wheelchair, just to be able to move about independently again.
This article is co-published with Washington Report on Middle East Affairs.
