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June 2011

The suppression of the Palestinian people is not a ran-dom event. It is a carefully calculated plot that is ongoing over a century now. Indeed the holy land has witnessed bloodshed since the dawn of the Crusades that have been waged falsely under the name of the cross. The Zionist controlled British leaders paved the path initially by creating the state of Israel. It was nourished later till now by the Zionist controlled state of USA. And it is the Palestinians who are paying the price of this treachery with blood and tear. Israel today has immerged strong-er more than ever before in its history with a savage thirst for more bloodshed in the Holy land. Its people has been system-atically brainwashed to believe that they are on the path of cre-ating the promised biblical land for the Jews. And even when the world is hearing the cries of the Palestinians, they find them-selves incapable to do anything. The Zionist scheme is strong. But however stronger they might appear from outside, they are at a collision course with the policy they have taken. The only way the Palestinians and the Arab world in particular and the rest of the morally conscious world in general can withstand such cruelty is by putting ever more resistance and by uniting them-selves. Truth will always be victorious over the falsehood, no matter how long it takes. And when that day comes Inshallah (By the will of God) the Palestinian Dream would come true. Dear gentle reader, this publication is an attempt to let the voice of the Palestinians and the dedicated activists around the world to reach you. To make heard the voice of those who are putting a just resistance to end the occupation and to establish a better world. We show our gratitude to all those who dedicated themselves selflessly to publish this magazine. All the mistakes if found is from our behalf, and all the good in it is from Allah. If you have any suggestions to improve it further feel free to let us know. Also we are looking for more people who would love to contribute in the coming editions. It is time for wake up from the deceptive Me-dias, speak up your mind and stand up for justice. Sincerely

Mohammad RafiBangladesh

editor’s notes

First of all I would like to apologise for the late June edition due to some problem with the platform that Issuu.com uses, and I have to explain what the problems were. This digital magazine is designed in Adobe Indesign CS4, in which has the ability to offer the flexibility to add interactivity such as “rollo-ver”, “embeded link”, or even streaming video from external link. Every file/document/pdf/ etc that is going to be pub-lished in Issuu.com needs to be converted to their native format, they do this automaticaly. This process caused the “interactiv-ity” to fail, not only that, the spread view (the one that you’re viewing right now) might have some overlapping on some pages. It seems like there’s no workaround for this problem at the moment, lastly, we apologise again and hope that you will continue to support this magazine.

Achmed Azizie MarzukiMalaysia

contents04 | Being a Palestinian “what was his fault to die in the age of..”06 | Gaza Chooses Development “Talking about siege, occupation, poverty..”09 | I am Talented But Who Knows “we just have to give it a chance to blossom..”12 | My Jesuralem Diaries “I was born in Palestine and since then..”14 | One Missile, One Playgroud:“Iyad’s niece, a cute girl in a checkered dress..”

17 | Tawjehi“you become aware of these things as an expert..”18 | Think with Others“we are sure after this darkness a light will come..”

*Updated Version, The error on page 10-11 has been removed.

It hurts when I see the people I love bleeding tears. The only thing that comforts me is the fact, that we are Palestinians. Being a Palestinian means that we have strength in spite of injustice, hope in spite of the misery, and smiles in spite of pains. Escaping from final exams pressure, I went to a wedding with my sisters. Everyone around me was smiling, clapping and

dancing for the bride and the groom except for me. My smile turned into tears. I incidentally met an old friend, from whom I had not heard anything since the ninth grade. We had been in the same class until I moved to another school. I was so happy to see her after five years. However, her situation made me feel sad. As I greeted her, I noticed an innocent, cute child playing in front of us. “This girl is my daughter.” My friend said with a smile. “Are you joking?” I gasped.“You are only 18 years old!” I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was a mother of a two-year-old girl! I tried to pull myself together in order not to show how surprised I was. “When was your wedding? Are you happy?” I asked. “Thank God, I am bringing up my daughter alone,” she said. I kept silent but I am sure my face’s features showed my astonishment.Many thoughts filled my brain. I was thinking if she had broken up with her husband, or if had he left her alone and travelled. I waitedfor her to continue because really I couldn’t speak then expecting bad news. Suddenly, she got out her wallet and showed me her husband’s picture. “Isn’t he handsome? He is not alive anymore; he was martyred,” she said proudly. It took me quite long time to understand that she is a widow at such a young age. I didn’t say a word. I felt helpless because I was sure that her sorrow was too deep. Yet, she hid that behind the smile of pride. “Howwas he martyred?” I asked. “Two years ago,” she answered with shining eyes, I felt the tears were trying to fell from her eyes but not a tear in sight. “He wasin Biet Hanoon, visiting a friend, when suddenly a rocket shelled an empty area close to him and he wasone of the victims. Israel justified this with a trivial excuse as usual, seeing that the empty area is the

place where resistance groups trained.” Just looking at her red eyes follow-

ing her daughter was killing me. I was bewildered. What was his fault to

die in the age of twenty-three after a week of his daughter’s birth? And

what is her guilt to deserve being a widow leading hers and her life

alone with her daughter? I believe that it’s their destiny, but

it’s really a hard one to accept. However, she had. She buried

her sorrow and for her daughter, played both the role of mother

and father. I realized that the miserable

Palestinian life has some good aspects. It creates iron

people able to lead their lives no matter how tough the

going gets. That’s why now; I am not surprised that I met my friend at a

wedding. Israel has to know that we are

strong enough to handle anything no matter how

hard it is. In Palestine, Life goes on

despite the sorrow.

Being a Palestinian“what was his fault to die in the age of twen-ty-three after a week of his daughter’s birth? And what is her guilt to deserve being a wid-ow leading hers and her life alone with her

daughter?”

By ShahdAbusalama|

04

Freedom Flotilla 2 - Stay Human is in honour of the Italian activist who was murdered in Gaza on the 15 of April.

It has been told that a fisherman was fishing a lot of fish with his angle, so the other fishermen envied him. One day, they got extremely angry at him as he was throwing the big fish back to the water while keeping the small ones. When they asked him why, he said that his frying pan is not big enough for the big fish.This is Gaza status with its donors. It was accustomed to deny what is imposed over it. Moreover, Gaza programmed itself to accept the bitter reality and disablement that can’t be overcome. Thus, the developmentally guided qualitative funding has become the big fish which Gaza frying pan can’t contain whether for desire, ignorance, or policy.It’s almost 85 international institutions working in Gaza Strip including representative and executive offices. That

number increased after the war against Gaza which seems like a congestion of salesmen in a public market. In addition, there are 950 civil charity institutions and some non-profit organizations working in Gaza Strip, yet the active ones are about 70 civil institutions. In 2007, a master study of some specialist estimated that the average of the civil institutions arbitrage was a billion dollar for a year where more than 45% constitutes administrative and logistic expenses and salaries.

Gaza Chooses Development“Talking about siege, occupation, poverty, and unemployment as obstacles to implementing developmental projects is a mental weakness, decline in determination and innovation to face oppression”.By Mohammad Y. Hasna

At the beach, Gaza City

06

Some of the contributions is spent on projects for infrastructure, sewerage, and rebuilding the destroyed houses as a result of the war on Gaza Strip. However, the biggest part of funding is spent for relief purposes rather than development and sometimes the consumptive development rather than the productive, not to mention the programs related to the gender, human rights, and the dialogue of civilization. Those programs forget that who couldn’t reach the pyramid base, wouldn’t be able to reach the top. It’s because the absence of a national strategy for dealing with funding. Before it’s a policy of donors, we, as beneficiaries, get rid of the big ideas, wonderful dreams, and potential possibilities for implementing productive developing projects that help on building a state of institutions and rise of economy. It’s just a limited vision where we accept the short-range effect while ignoring the long one looking for fulfilling a quick achievement, lots of money, and effortless work. Most of our institutions –except what works according to a develop-mental vision- change the goals they formed just for getting a donation corresponding to the donor’s conditions. Probably, the most apparent shortage comes from the government as the institutions’ roles are complementary, not competitive in accordance with a national plan supposed to be previously set. Till the moment, I can’t notice a true role of the government for coordinating and unifying the efforts of the civil and international institutions which work in Gaza. It’s a clear dereliction of following such great issue. This dereliction made every institution work for its own agenda and the donors’ conditions where many projects are implemented in the name of the Palestinian people benefit without realizing any real impact. I particularly mention the UNRWA organization which has turned the Palestinian people into relief receivers who don’t aim at development. The or-ganization negatively programmed people to receive a monthly food aid and some cash which resulted in a zero developmental impact. Relief works have negatively affected the Palestinian society where a lot of workers gave up their jobs lest some-body tells on them, and accordingly they lose their financial grant or food aid. Such culture should be internally corrected and enhanced through the practice of the civil institutions for a patriot role far from obeying to the donors’ conditions. Our society must reject the relief principle and con-ceptualize it within the right frame rather than the dependence of more than 80% of Palestinians on the helping aids provided by UNRWA and others.

If we agree on learning how to fish instead of taking it, then we will unify our speech and we will draw our path and fulfill the desired change. Talking about siege, occupation, poverty, and unem-ployment as obstacles to implementing developmental projects is a mental weakness, decline in determination and innovation to face oppression. Japan could develop itself after it had the biggest military hit in history, and now it becomes one of the strongest countries in economy and development. Also, Malay-sia, the Asian tiger, could develop due to the solid plan based on a long-range vision, not on reactions, which made it one of the most important economic countries in the modern time. Donors are in need to us as we are in need to them. I almost can assure that if we drew a national policy to guide funding, donors would adopt it as they are not interested in leaving Gaza. They consider it as the air to breathe. We, as members, institutions, society, and govern-ment, need to resolve our choices towards development con-cept, carefully plan for the coming period, competitively deal with donors, and subjecting them to our patriot agenda. In conclusion, we need to find institutional coordinat-ing body that is capable of forming a national developmental vision and takes the responsibility of convincing the donating institutions to work for development, not relief. But before, we need to implement a public awareness campaign for Palestin-ians about the real funding size and what could be done when we get rid of the relief principle moving to realize a true devel-opment for the benefit of our society.

Gaza HolocaustPalestinians sit in a UN school after fleeing from their houses

Painting by one of the talent in Gaza

The month of June in the Gaza 2011 calendar - All I want is Peace - features the paint-

ing “I am talented but who knows?”. This reminds me of the reason why we setup YouthSchool in the first place. Back in 2009, we wanted to discover youth who have a talent and passion to succeed. Today, this contin-ues to be our main motivation: to de-velop the potential of young people, especially those who are living in the most marginalized regions and facing many barriers that make it difficult or even impossible to realize their dreams.

The Gaza Strip is a challeng-ing location to test and develop some of the YouthSchool strategies. Palestine is a country that I have been involved with since 2002 when I first read reports about the Israeli assault in Jenin. After watch-ing the iconic films Jenin, Jenin and Ar-nas Children I felt compelled to tour the West Bank and witness the reality of life under occupation and see firsthand the impact on the development of youth. The illegal siege imposed on Gaza for the last 5 years has created a unique situation for the youth, which does not exist anywhere else in the world. The huge restrictions on movement in/out of Gaza, have resulted in isolation and a shattered economy, making it impossible for young people to live a normal life. In-tervention is necessary - to provide stimu-lus, hope, encouragement, assistance and direction. Gaza is brimming with young talent, but who knows or who cares? The YouthSchool model is simple in its design. It’s all about: spot-ting talent, developing an idea, generat-ing income from that idea, and using some of the profits to deliver Social Action projects in the local community.

Our current Eid project in Gaza is a good example. We are working with two talented young women artists. Using their talent and skills they have produced a set of Greeting cards that feature ten beautiful hand drawings. Through Youth-School and its volunteers, they are able to market and sell the Greeting cards in the UK and elsewhere, therefore provid-ing an income for themselves as well as funding a Social Action project in their local community. In this case, we aim to work with a local orphanage to develop the skills of the children to make arts and crafts gifts. This project will be de-livered by another young woman; hence one project can often lead to another! The key principle behind the YouthSchool model is that we do not give away money, we generate income through the talent and endeavors of the young people, and we empower them to spend this income on So-cial Action projects in their own com-munity which they select and deliver. To support this type of project model, we are developing our own methodology and project lifecy-cle so that we can deliver high quality results which meet our original objec-tives. The methodology will also enable us to replicate success in other regions and expand our activity into other coun-tries such as Bangladesh and Pakistan. New work on the horizon in-cludes the pilot phase of our Youth-Farms project and an interesting idea for a soccer league, both with built in mechanisms to experiment with income generation and community benefit. The final strand in our Opera-tion is youth participation. With record youth unemployment levels around the world it is no longer a viable option for young people to rely on their govern-ments to help them out. Increased inter-action and cooperation between youth in different countries using social media and agencies such as YouthSchool can create a positive environment where we can help those who are most disadvan-taged, to achieve their ambitions. The world is bursting with young talent - we just have to give it a chance to blossom!

I Am Talented But Who Knows?“we just have to give it a

chance to blossom!”By Ken Imrie

Youth School

09

What a pity being asked if you have ever been to your capital and all that you utter is a mere “I would love to go there one day” or that the last time you had been

to it was when you were only nine. There could be a third way to answer this embarrassing question: yes you have passed by it but they didn’t let you put a step out of the bus because you did not have a special permit that allows you to do so. I wonder which answer I should opt for as all of them, luckily, applies to me. Have I listed all the possible answers, I feel com-pelled to make you stop at every station and ponder the view as I roam the streets of Jerusalem with my parents, my grand-mother and my sister in 2000. Later on, you will ponder me, a sample of a typical Palestinian, as I cross Bait-Hanoun border or “Erez Crossing” as being called nowadays by the Israelis. The first picture my mind summons for Jerusalem, was 11 years ago when I went there for the first time. It is the pic-ture of me staring at a crowd Rabbis through the window of the bus that carried us to Jerusalem. They all were the same: dressed in black outfits and black hats with straggling beards and two curls dangling from their whiskers. I asked my mother who these were. Her answer was that they were “religious Jews”. I remember my parents holding my tiny hands as we got out of the bus with my grandmother and my older sister among other “tourists” many who were Palestinians just like us. I was too naïve to realize that this visit could be the first and last time I walk in The Holy Land for many years to come. I don’t know what happened next, but I remember that we went to the mosque of al-Aqsa where I was fascinated by the grandeur of the Dome of the Rock as it proudly basked in the sun that made it look even more beautiful. I still remember when my mother handed me the prayer rug and the prayer gown and told me to pray. I unrolled the rug, wore the gown and made my prayer on the yard of al-Masjid al-Aqsa under the blue sky of the Old City.

One, even if only nine, could speak of the seren-ity of the place, the purity of the atmosphere, and above all, one could feel the genuineness and depth of the relation-ship between the Palestinian and the land. It is a relationship that had been originally created and developed by our ances-tors and those who followed. It is the story of ancient Ca-naan and his Philista, of a peasant and an olive tree, of the love and tolerance between the Crescent and the Cross. Gen-erations prior to the desecration of Zion, generations simi-lar to the one that gave birth to Salah al-Deen al-Ayoubi. My mother took me and my sister to see the mosque from inside. The only part I remember is my mother, my sister and I taking off our shoes and leaving them on a shoe rack, then entering the mosque where I saw the stone upon which The Prophet Muhammad’s sacred feet were printed when he as-cended to Allah during the incident of al-Israa Wal (and) Miraaj. I remember enjoying the special flavor of Jeru-salem reflected upon its Nabulsi Kunafeh (an Arab Pales-tinian well-known dessert) at an old shop of one the Sou-qs within Jerusalem’s famous seven-open-gates Old City. The last scene I can summon is my mother, sister and grandmother trying hard to remember the name of the gate by which we were to meet my father at a particular hour. “Al Qat… al-Qat… al-Qataneen!” I yelled with ecstasy for being the one who reminded them of the name. They cheered for me. After all, I had to go back to my house in Gaza the same day in accordance to the conditions stipulated on our permits. I was not more than a tourist in my own land. The second trip was in 2007. The year the siege on

My Jerusalem Diaries

“I was born in Palestine and since then I have lived there. I cannot go to my capital Jerusalem. Non-Pales-tinians can go. If I want to go there I have to ask for a special permit which I will not be given. Could

you please justify this for me? I al-ways fail to clarify it to myself”.

By Rana Baker

12

Gaza was imposed. I was accompanied by a group of young “privileged” Palestinians who were given permits to leave Gaza through the Bait Hanoon Border (Erez Crossing), travel via The Occupied Palestinian Territories (the so-called Israel) to Jordan, then fly to Cairo from Amman. It was impossible with Mubarak’s regime to spare a lot of humiliation at Erez by allow-ing us to cross to Egypt directly through Rafah crossing point. I was the oldest among the group that had been chosen to spend three weeks in the Arab Digital Expres-sion Camps in Cairo. Under the Palestinian law, and the Is-raeli law I suppose, one who has not yet completed 16 years of his/her life and doesn’t have an ID card is known to be a minor. Our adult leaders were banned from accom-panying us. We were faced by two options: either to withdraw from the trip and spend the summer in Gaza or to make it from Erez to Jordan on our own. The second won all votes. To reach Erez, your taxi will have to drop you meters away from the gate. We dragged our feet and pulled our luggage under a hot August sun until we arrived at the gate. Not neces-sarily a gate like the one you might be picturing. It was more like jail rods than a gate of a crossing point. Beyond the gate you could see at first glance that the whole area was bugged. Cameras were everywhere to tell you that they are there to pun-ish you if you acted in a way that might bother the Israeli of-ficers. Large posters were glued to the walls to offer millions of dollars to those who will agree to “cooperate” with Israel and report the location of Shalit, the abducted Israeli soldier. Behind the gate or the jail rods, there was a long fenced road that led to many searching machines at checkpoints. You

have to leave your luggage on the machine, take off anything that contains metal even if it is a necklace and pass through the check-point. If it beamed, you’re in trouble, if it didn’t go to the next. One machine was a bit more interesting and much larg-er than the checkpoints I had gotten used to. It was the one with the X-rays that causes cancer. The one I had always heard about. Once I got inside this machine I was ordered to raise my hands and stand still through a loudspeaker. The machine too was bugged! There was something wrong with me. The woman’s voice, with a distorted English accent, ordered me to get out of the machine and get inside again. She screamed at me saying that I was not raising my hands the way I should have been doing. She made me go in of and out of the machine five times. When she let me out, I thought there was no doubt I will get a cancer. Through many gates we were then meant to pass. If the gate beamed a green light, push it and go to the next. If it beamed red, what will happen to you is identical to what happened to me. I was taken to a special room with a search-ing machine, a table, a female officer and a searching de-vice on the table. The officer ordered me to take off my pants. All of a sudden I thought I did not understand. “Have you heard me?” She inquired. “Take off your pants and put them in the searching machine.” She explained. I was feeling humiliated to the extent that made me force myself to pretend that I’m totally fine with this. She picked the search-ing device from the table and approached me. “Are you scared?” She sarcastically asked. “No” I retorted although I was soaking in fear. The device ran across my body. At that point I was won-dering what one could hide under his/her skin or underwear! When she let me out, I found the rest of the group waiting on a bench. I burst out with tears, it was tormenting to an animal and I was a human. Suddenly I burst out with laugh-ter; it was the absurdity of the situation. Our luggage was totally unpacked and mixed to-gether. We spent hours separating our stuff and putting them again inside the bags. In the end, we walked out of Erez and rode the bus to Allenby Bridge that leads to Jordan. In the bus we screamed out of excitement, of ecstasy and of shock. We were on the other part of our home. We were in the Occupied West Bank. We asked the driver to take us to Jerusalem and let us make our steps on the ground of the Holy Land. Alas, to walk on our land we needed a permit from the stranger. We could only pass by Jerusalem and see a little spot of the Dome of the Rock. That day, that spot was capable to make me ignore, at least for a while the treatment I had received at Erez. And thus, we were carried to the Bridge, Jordan and eventually flew to Egypt. I still wonder how a minor’s body can be threat-ening to the security and well-being of the state of Is-rael. “The only democracy in the Middle East” as they say. Dear world, I’m a Palestinian. I was born in Palestine and since then I have lived there. I cannot go to my capital Je-rusalem. Non-Palestinians can go. If I want to go there I have to ask for a special permit which I will not be given. Could you please justify this for me? I always fail to clarify it to myself.Sincerely, thought of a Palestinian from Gaza.

Jerusalem at night

13

A ‘Hamas commander’ drove a beat-up gray van in northern Gaza and theatrically spoke on

his walkie-talkie as I sat in the passenger seat. The van was almost barren, save for the most basic equipment propel-ling it to move forward over the bumpy roads of an overcrowded refugee camp. Iyad was not here to show me any militant training camp, or even to assess the damage that had befallen the impoverished Gaza Strip during Israel’s devastating war, Operation Cast Lead, which killed and wounded thousands in 2008-09. Scars of the damage sustained during the three-week onslaught are still visible throughout the Strip. Iyad was here to show me his latest personal project: a playground for refugee children.

At first glance, the “playground” did not seem impressive at all. All I no-ticed was a small plot of dirt jammed be-tween two unsightly concrete buildings. “So, what do you think?” asked Iyad, with a proud smile. His at-tempt at growing a full beard was not entirely successful, giving him a younger, albeit disheveled appearance. “It’s impressive,” I re-plied, still trying to understand the nature of the accomplishment. I learned later that the achieve-ment was creating space out of the de-bris. At one time prior to December 2008, when an Israeli missile decided to drop in, a family had lived in this spot. The house had collapsed, and its resi-dents became mere posters of mourned

Palestinian faces adorning the walls of other houses in the neighborhood. Iyad and few of “Shabab Al-Masjid” — youth of the mosque — cleared almost everything, using only their bare hands and other primitive means. The siege had made it nearly im-possible to access modern technology to clear the uncountable tons of concrete scattered in and around Gaza as a result of the war. Cement remains a precious commodity in an area that needs build-ing material above most other resources. People here somehow remain positive. “And here will be a soc-cer field,” continued Iyad, who seemed to have no budget whatso-ever, except the will of the “shabab”. Predictably, Iyad’s residence is

14

located in a refugee camp. What seemed to be a large crack around much of the house was in fact a mark left by an Is-raeli missile, which blew up most of the house. Iyad’s entire family — his broth-ers, their wives and about two dozen children — were watching TV in a room that miraculously managed to stay still as the house imploded. The neighbors rushed looking for dead and survivors, only to find everyone alive and well. Iyad smiled in wonder. When the unmanned drone began circling above his head, Iyad knew that the Israelis had lo-cated him. So he began running. “I didn’t want them to know where I lived, so I began running with-out a clear sense of direction,” said

Iyad, who reiterated that he always pre-pared himself for such a moment. “I am not scared of death. Life and death is in God’s hand, not some Israeli pi-lot, but I worried about my family.” Then, Iyad’s house came down. Since then, the house has been rebuilt, although in a haphazard way. New additions to the house stand above the deep cracks. There are no guaran-tees that the foundation is safe, or if the house is even inhabitable at all. Oblivious to war, death, unarmed drones and shaky foundations, the children are full of life. Three of the boys in Iyad’s household carry the same name. It was the name of Iyad’s brother who was killed by an Israeli sniper as he protested the oc-cupation during the First Palestinian Up-rising (Intifada) of 1987. It was this very event that changed Iyad’s life forever. In a moment, the little boy had become a man, as expected of any “brother of a martyr”. Iyad’s niece — a cute girl in a checkered dress — was asked to per-form her nashid, a song she had learned in the street. She did so with untold en-thusiasm. The song referenced paradise and martyrs and “right of return,” and of children facing missiles with bare chests. The crowed clapped, and the girl huddled by my side bashfully. Perhaps she had not expected such a passionate response from her audience. She was five years old. Iyad, who is now studying at a

local Gaza university, already speaks of a Master’s degree and a teaching career. He also remains consumed by his play-ground and the challenges awaiting him and the “youth of the mosque” once the uneven ground is completely flattened. His nieces and nephews sing for the martyrs, but they are also keen to do their homework. They discuss end-of-year exams with dread and excitement. All the boys are fans of Barcelona, and devotees of a man named Lionel Messi. “When I grow up, I want-ed to study physical education,” said one of the boys, a teenager of about 14. ‘I will specialize in soccer, just like Messi’s major at the Universi-ty of Barcelona,’ he added excitedly.

I laughed, and so did everyone else.

One Missile, One Playground: The Will

of Gaza“Iyad’s niece, a cute girl in a checkered dress, was asked to perform her nashid, a song she

had learned in the street. She did so with untold enthusiasm. The song referenced paradise and martyrs and “right of return,” and of children

facing missiles with bare chests”.By Ramzy Baroud

View from sitting roomOn the morning of Thursday 1st January, following an attack on the Shabora refugee camp of Rafah.

15

Judge by yourself, which side is the victim

You are very anxious to get some time on your own to read a book you have now spent four months reading, but another student sees

you sitting alone beginning to read and asks you if you’re free; although you’re not you say you are and answer their questions. You’re actually a Tawjehi stu-dent (senior high student). Everybody knows that you are a Tawjehi student. Most of them didn’t know or didn’t care what your grade was before. You know you’re a Tawjehi student when the number one ques-tion they ask you becomes” How’s your study” while you appreciate their concerns and answer your typi-cal everyday answer, even if it’s not true. “It’s ok “. Here, you organize your precious time in an extreme way that you even calculate your lunch time and how much time it takes washing your face in order to have enough time studying. However, the second there’s no electricity you forget about it and curse having wasted an hour planning a schedule. You have started your new year with no fireworks. You expect some coming down from the sky, though.” They say war is in February”. “Can’t they wait until we finish our curricula?” “Which curricula?” “I mean can’t they wait until March?” You suddenly stop and stare at your brother in amazement. You laugh. You have this weird conversation in a very normal way that you barely notice. Yes you become aware of these things as an expert, for you have spent 16 years of your time in the most unpredictable area. You plan for your new year you want to do everything. You have actually been planning since the summer vacation. Being a Tawjehi student, everything is procrastinated for the next year: driving license, learning Turkish, changing your room decoration, reading a list of books. After Tawjehi becomes your most common phrase.

Tawjehi“you become aware of these things as an expert, for you have spent 16 years of your time in the most un-

predictable area”By Rawan Yaghi

17

Unsatisfactory is a disadvantage which exists in most of us. The normal per-

son, who has a family and enough money to get his main needs, can’t appreciate what he has. The smallest problems could make him a negative and pessimistic one. For sure those terrible situations could be tiring but they shouldn’t affect our opti-mism. I can give you a small comparison to see that your life is relatively good. I will compare your normal day with a day from Gaza. You get up in the morning, and the first thing you see is the ceiling of your room but not the sky, as who have lost their houses by the Israeli attacks. Then you wash your face and brush your teeth with clear water, not like Gazans who do not have clear water

to drink. Time of breakfast with family is available to anyone but not for those whose families were killed horribly by Israel. Then, you wear your clothes and go to work or university, unlike the Palestinians who lost their work because of the internal division or like whose properties were damaged by our enemy and have no money to keep studying. In your free time, you could visit your relatives but Palestinians prisoners are prevented of contacting with their fami-lies. Another suggestion for your free time is going to a club or any place for entertainment. Here in Palestine these places are so limited and not equipped. Also, you can look after the flowers in your garden which you planted

Think About Others“we are sure after this darkness a light will come by our love, education, brotherhood

and resistance”By Nihaya Jaber

18

before a month, otherwise there are hun-dreds of the Palestinians whose lands were bulldozing and have lost their ol-ive trees which are older than 100 years. Besides all, when you get bored, you would visit another city in your coun-try without passing the checkpoints like us and unfortunately we are not al-ways allowed to reach the other city. At the end of the day, you may watch TV clearly or listen to the calm music, in contrast Israeli army planes affect badly the clarity of TV, and their “romantic” sound “zz.......” is the last sound we hear. I am not saying that you have to be happy always but at least you are supposed to appreciate the simplest things which you already have. If you

look deeply to others, you will find your normal day like a dream for others. Here in Palestine we used to live all that troubles; bombing, killing, bulldoz-ing and internal problems. We are sure after this darkness a light will come by our love, education, brotherhood and resistance.

Gaza: half a year on, and the suffering continues

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We wish to translate this magazine to other languages, but lack of work force, so if you would like to translate this and future editions, feel free to contact us, we work voluntarily which means no one got paid. The spirit of volunteer-ism is what drives this project.

We are also looking for new members todevelop or do an editorial work for future editions, the tools that we use are common in industry such as the Adobe InDesign, Adobe Firework, Adobe Photoshop, Dropbox to distribute file and many more.

The artworks, images, which we used to accompany the articles are published with permission from the original creator. If you feel that we somehow violate the Copyrighted Law, feel free to contact us. We can be contacted either via email or our facebook group page.

ContactsJoin our Facebook Group Page and subscribe to our monthly publication

thepalestiniandream@gmail.com

Credits

Nabil Darwishfrom ndproductions as the contributing photographer.

He can be contacted at http://ndproductions.wordpress.com/

Tomy Purnomo Sidifrom Indonesia as the Data Entry Officer

He can be contacted at http://www.facebook.com/to-mypurnomosidi

Authors

Shahd Abusalamapalestinefrommyeyes.blogspot.com

Mohammad Y. Hasnamhasna.wordpress.com

Ken Imrieyouthschool.org

Rana Bakerranabaker.wordpress.com

Ramzy Baroudramzybaroud.net

Nihaya Jabernihayajab.blogspot.com