we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Tag: grief/loss/trauma

My friendship with an American living near the U.S. wildfires propels my advocacy for humanism over vengeful thinking.
‘In every moment, his image is before us as we continue the journey as he would have, if he were still here.’
Thank you for forcing me to question everything, everything inside me, around me, even my existence in this universe.
Don’t tell your children that while we were being exterminated, you were busy celebrating your achievements.
Gaza treats me badly, but it has been wronged as well — hurt, abused, destroyed, exploited, neglected for decades.
Behind this door, a mother waits for her lost son’s return / as if she never understood the meaning of death.
The streets, the walls, the trees: They all speak, not in words, but in memories.
In Gaza I clung to life despite the fear and chaos because it felt meaningful. Here I am alive, but life feels hollow.
Again, it is December / Second December / Without stars.
Gazans live in inexorable pain with no pause and they are surrounded by death all the time.
I muse about Gaza, my home, and the things I’ve lost.
I shall not speak / mouth stitched, eyes blind / limbs amputated.