Anger Cry by Jamela Al-Habbash

by Jamela Al-Habbash

The Palestine Telegraph

Gaza, January 19, 2010 (Pal Telegraph) - Jamela Al-Habbash, 16, was attacked by Israeli rocket while she was playing with her sister on her house roof on 4th January 2009. She hoped to work as a journalist in order to divulge the Israeli occupation crimes. After a year, her dream became a reality with The Palestine Telegraph. She joined the first electronic Palestinian newspaper a month ago. Now she is writing articles in Arabic language. Her colleagues translate her writings into English.

Anger Cry

Oh! Free World ... Oh! who has heart and conscience and can see and hear the massacres committed against humanity. I stand before you after a year of the war, but not as before. Now I stand on artificial limbs remembering painful scene in my memory. I remember my sister and my cousin who never left me any moment. We were living together and playing, but now I have a sad heart remember those who passed away and left me alone.

Will you ask me where did your sister and your cousin go? I will tell you ... You've seen the crimes of Israeli occupation and witnessed the children of Gaza when they were bleeding blood and tears. Many of them lost organs of their bodies, lost members of their families and others lost their homes. The painful stories varied among this innocent people.

I will narrate my story ... the story of my occupied people. I will tell the whole world to hear about the occupation brutal crimes; I will say everything, even if days passed. I will tell all creatures... to all who see and hear about the enemy and its crimes... I will tell each bird may it convey my people suffering and mine.

000001100007177101288310801_copyMy story is the story of a lost country... Story of displaced people... Stolen freedom.. Sixty years of suffering and my people have being killed, detained and oppressed.

Do not say that I am a child who is young or know nothing. My suffering and my people suffering too are becoming double. There is no childhood, we lived the war, young and old; we saw the fact of our enemy and what it does to our resistant people. Have not you ask me about my feet where did they go!? Here is the story of how I lost my legs.

I was playing on the roof of my house with my sister Shaza and my cousins. The Israeli occupation wanted to enjoy seeing our blood bleeding, so it launched rocket toward us. They killed Shaza and my cousin; they became pieces of flesh in front of my eyes. My legs amputated and my cousin too; his leg amputated.

I became living without legs, without my lovely sister. Do not ask how I stay alive this Allah will to be a witness of a crime against innocent people, to be a victim of the aggression war and to tell my story and tragedy of my people to future generations.

You, the free world, this is my story ... I lost my legs, my sister and my cousin ... I realize that I'm neither the only one nor the last as the suffering here is continuing and injustice is prevalent, but hope will be as injustice will not last.

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