The Heart of Palestine by Hanna Amireh

Hanna Amireh
The Heart of Palestine


Surah Al Fatiha
(The opening chapter)
“In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful. Praise be to Allah, the Cherisher and Sustainer of the Worlds Most Gracious, Most Merciful Master of the, Day of Judgment. Thee do we worship, and Thine aid we seek. Show us the straight way. The way of those on whom Thou hast bestowed Thy Grace, Those whose (portion) is not wrath and who go not astray.”-Holy Quran

“Come to prayer, come to prayer.” The sound of the Azan rings through Palestine as little Fatima runs home from her first day of school. It was September 15, 2000. Like all the other houses in Palestine, Fatima’s house was a large brick house. She was very proud with the way her house looked, especially on the outside. It was the brightest and most loving home in Gaza. Fatima and her mother had planted apple trees and a garden of assorted fruits and vegetables. She created an additional garden of flowers. She especially loved the Daffodils, tulips, and roses. They were her favorite.
“Mama, Baba, I did it; I learned how to count to ten today.” Fatima’s mother, Eman was standing there at the door waiting for Fatima’s return.
“Mashallah (god bless) Fatima, that’s so good. Hurry on! Go do your wuthu (cleansing one must do before prayer) it’s almost time for prayer.”
“Mama” Fatima calls. “Is it true? Is the war really coming?”
“Yes. That’s why we must pray. We must have faith in Allah.
“How about Nurallah (light of god)? What will happen to him?
“Don’t worry about your brother. He is fighting to keep what is rightfully ours. This land is ours. It does not belong to the yahoudi (Jew).
“Why can’t we just share it? It is big enough for all of us.
…

The Palestinians and Jews have been in conflict for many years now (1991- present) The Jews want the Palestinian land and the Palestinians will not give it up without a fight. Bodies of both Palestinians and Jews cover the once beautiful land and the bloodshed is on going. Women and children try to take cover but they are blown to pieces. A barefooted boy age eleven watches his father, a martyr of Palestine bulleted down by a Jew. His eyes turn red and bleed with such sorrow and anger. All the Jew sees is just another thing to shoot up. The little boy drags his father and calls for help. A Jew stands behind him and he says, “Pathetic,” so the little boy picks up a stone and throws it. “You’ve taken my sister, my mother and now my father. Just take me too. Kill me now!” The Jew smiles and stands over the boy’s father, whom is still breathing slightly. He takes his head and looks to the boy with a smile, “this is our land now,” he says as he slams the father’s head against the ground. The little boy lunges at the soldier and bites, kicks, and scratches. The soldier pushes him off continuously but out of rage the boy continuously hits the Jew. The Jew finally shoots the boy right in the middle of the head and he says, “Just another pest.” As the boy fell to the ground a small box flew from his hand.
Yesterday I was sitting at the dinner table with my mother and sister as baba walked through the door. I jumped out of my chair and I pulled up a chair for him; I put it right next to mine. He usually came home later, but yesterday he kept his promise. He brought with him a small box. I knew he got it; I knew he bought it for me. It was a brand new, polished necklace with a soccer ball on it. I wanted to be a soccer player one day. I wanted to make my family proud of me and I wanted so much to be the person my father never got to be. I wanted to be the first in the family to get married. I wanted to be the one to take care of my parents when they grew old but today I watched my mother and sister run off and take cover. Today was the day I saw the Jew kill my hero, my love, my father, with pleasure. I saw the ultimate evil and I couldn’t do anything. Today I saw families separated and I saw a never ending battle. I saw an on going bloodshed and a piece of holy land torn to pieces. It was today that I fell to the ground with a hole in my head. It was that necklace that I saw fall to the ground along with every single Palestinian dream demolished by the Jewish Man.

Surah Al-Baqara
(The Chapter of the Cow)

“On no soul doth Allah place a burden greater than it can bear. It gets every good that it earns and it suffers every ill that it earns. (Pray): "Our Lord! Condemn us not if we forget or fall into error; our Lord! Lay not on us a burden like that which Thou didst lay on those before us; Our Lord! Lay not on us a burden greater than we have strength to bear. Blot out our sins and grant us forgiveness. Have mercy on us. Thou art our Protector; help us against those who stand against faith." –Holy Quran

Surviving the hail of bullets Fatima and her mother find themselves entering a strange place. They strut around helping all the other women and children. Some sick, some wounded, and some dead. Fatima gazes through the small window and up into the sky. The once blue and white sky is now black and gray. She reminisces of that last moment with her father and brother and how that farewell was truly the last time she’d ever see them again. For a brief moment she doubts Allah.
“Oh Allah what sins have we committed, have I committed. Why are we being punished? Oh Allah! Please help us, protect us, and take away the misery and pain. Let the sunlight shine one last time. Bring back my brother and father; let the light shine on them. Oh Allah!”
Realizing that she was straying from god at the moment when she needed him most she went into another moment of prayer, but this time she was asking for forgiveness. She wanted answers but no one could give her any. She wanted help, but no one could help her. As she crouched down into the darkness of a corner she looked into her own soul. She searched for that faith she once had; she searched for the love of her father and her brother, but it all seemed to disappear. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that they were gone for good. She couldn’t tell herself that life just ends.
On one of the most important days to her, Fatima’s grandmother past away. Fatima couldn’t bring herself to understand why her grandmother (her best friend) died and how. They played together the day before and everything seemed to be fine. Her grandma didn’t seem sick. Not even her parents or the doctors could tell her why for they did not know either. Fatima locked herself in her own room for a day. The next morning when Fatima awoke she said, “Thank you Allah.” The night before she thought long and hard about why people have to die and it came to her. It was god that created earth, the plants on earth and the people too. If god could give life he could take it to. Fatima went to her parents the next day and said, “I know why Siti (grandma) died.” Shocked, her parents stood in silence. “God giveth and god shall taketh away. Don’t worry Siti is in good hands now. I once heard that if you go to heaven there will be beautiful streams of fresh, pure water. There are waterfalls and trees as tall as mountains. There is a beautiful bright light; darkness does not exist in heaven. I bet that if Siti is in heaven right now she will be sitting by a garden just like ours, but bigger and brighter, sipping from a golden cup of wine.
Life is a complex but fragile word. It has much meaning behind it and with further ado it carries with it emotion. Is life a dream? Is life a vision? Is life something that is only in our imagination? Without life can there be love?

Lovers such passionate people
In one’s time of living, soon
Fade from a picture where
Existence is locked in a box with no key.

As Eman caught a glimpse of her little Fatima crouching into the darkness of that little corner, she ran to her with open arms and she did what most of the mothers did. She embraced her daughter and she told her everything would be okay. She held really tight and as the sound of the soldier’s feet approached the door she knew that everything was about to get even worse. The soldiers banged on the door and cursed the women. The women were too frightened to move and therefore would not answer the soldier’s request. They could not open the door for they were dreadfully horrified with what would come next. Would Allah send upon them guardian angels to protect them or would they just have to wait even longer? The sound of the soldiers was multiplying and the women feared for their children. Unfortunately their fear did not encourage them to act quickly. The soldiers counted to three and the door caved in.
“Baba, Baba the door is stuck and I can’t open it. Baba, please help me, I am scared.” Fatima locked herself into the bathroom for a second time and she still fears that she will be left alone and no one would ever find her. Her father comes and pushes the door open. She lunges at him and says, “you found me.”
They ran through and took all the young boys, ages ranging from newborns to ten. They viciously drag them across the stone floors and out to the rugged ground outside. Their mothers began screaming hysterically. Some taking the last bit of energy they had collapse to the ground, their hearts stop beating. Other mothers listen as their innocent sons call for their fathers and older brothers to come and help them. Then silence fills the air after a line of gun shots go off and the sound of little bodies hit the ground. The soldiers haven’t had enough though. They go back into the house where the women are now sitting together. A group of the soldiers point to Fatima and the others nod. They begin walking towards her with the look of savage beasts and that’s when Eman realizes what they are after. She lounges at them with all her might and she screams out to Fatima, “I love you but our journey together ends here, RUN!”
Fatima and her mother were sitting out by the garden, drinking a warm glass of tea. They enjoy the colors of the flowers and they name each one after a family member. Fatima’s mother was the rose and Fatima was the daffodil. “As long as we live, that rose and that daffodil over their will always stand together.”
“Wow mama! Can flowers really live that long?”
“As long as they are together they will live on forever”
“Even in the snow?”
“Even in the snow.”
Fatima jolted through the soldiers and almost made it to the door. A soldier jumped in her way but she did not let that stop her, for she knew that she was going to have to be on her own now. Being that her body was so small she knew that this soldier could not stop her. She jumped and slid on the rugged stone floor, between the soldier’s legs and when she stands up, all scraped and bloody, she sees the bodies of young Palestinian boys, but her mother’s last words hunt her. “RUN!” So she runs and doesn’t look back. As she hears the sound of one more gun shot, goose bumps spread across her body and she feels it. She feels the loss of her mother and then it happens again. She cannot find that love. It is as if the love was numbed. She could not feel it. All she felt now was to find a shelter, she needed to hide but everywhere she turned she found a soldier in her face. As she turned another corner someone grabbed her arms and she thought it was over. She let out a scream, and then a cry. The soldier said, “Young child, where is your family?” As she looked up she was relieved to see that this was not a Jewish soldier; the soldier was one of her own kind. She gasped and threw her arms around the soldier. “My name is Muhammad.”
“I have no one left. The yahoudi has taken their lives. My baba, my mama, and my brother have gone to Allah, but I am the unlucky one. I am still here and I am tired, hungry, and thirst. How can I eat? I can’t even take a breath without have to make a run for it. I do have a brother left. He is a soldier like you. Do you know him? His name is Nurallah?”
The soldier looked down at his boot and from it he pulled out dog tags; he placed them around her neck. “I am so sorry. I knew your brother very well but he did not make it. Don’t worry though I will protect you. I promised him I would find his family and guide them to safety. Come with me, I will let you hide in here.”
Muhammad walked Fatima into an alley. There he pushed a rather large rock that stood almost as high as him. It was a passage. There were two soldiers sitting there with their guns and they looked at Fatima and smiled, which reassured her that she would be okay. Then a serious of bombs started going off and the soldiers all came out of the passage and pushed the stone back into its place, leaving Fatima inside. “Muhammad, don’t leave me.” Fatima called out but her voice was so faint that he did not hear her. They left her plenty of food and water, but she was alone. There was some light that came through the cracks of the stone that kept her safe from the yahoudi, but Fatima was frightened.
Muhammad and the others did not forget about Fatima. They knew very well what they left her with. They left food, water, blankets and some weapons too. Though it was not meant for her they left her there with it all. Muhammad and the other Palestinian soldiers were being taken out one by one. Muhammad called for one of the other soldiers, Aziz and told him to retreat back to the hiding place. He knew that all of them would die in battle but he did not want Fatima to be alone. As Aziz retreated, Muhammad and the others were taken out one by one. It hurt him to leave them but he knew that his duty was to be with Fatima and comfort her in anyway possible. Just as Aziz was about to turn into the Alley, a yahoudi crept up from behind him and slit his throat. Fatima, hearing his body plummet to the ground, was now alone and no one else in the world knew about her. She stayed in the Alley for many days and many nights. She grew very tired and restless but she did not give up faith. She allowed herself to understand that all this couldn’t have happened for no reason. “Reason” was what she looked for; it was what she asked god for.
“Oh Allah! I’ve asked for forgiveness and I have trusted in you for such time. I am trapped here all alone and I am asking for your guidance. I know not what I am supposed to do now, and I fear that I am losing faith, not only in you but in the chances of my survival. Yesterday as the little light that peered through the cracks of this large rock disappeared I felt the air grow cold and my breath collapse into the size of a diamond. I longed to live but longed to die for if I die my lonely days would come to an end. If indeed my life ended last night, I could be once again with the faces I shall forever know, the faces of my mother, father and brother.”
…

With every passing day Fatima waited. She waited for the day when her eyes wouldn’t open but she began to think this day would never come. She had run out of water and the amount of food she had was scarce. On September 30, 2000, the sound of war was no longer present. The laughter of children and mothers yelling to their children returned. Along with this the images of Fatima and her family returned. Tears ran down her cheeks and she longed to die but she knew that it wasn’t her time. So she forced herself to the large rock and she forced her fingers through the cracks. Being trapped for so long she knew that the school kids came through the alley everyday after school with their parents. She tried to yell for help but her throat was dry from dehydration. As she wiggled her fingers some more a fragment of stone broke off the large rock and tumbled out in front of a child.
The child bent down and retrieved the stone from the ground. He found it peculiar due to the fact that he was in the middle of an alley and there was no wind to move the stone. He glanced at the large rock and thought that maybe it was just an old rock and it was time for it to start breaking. He walked forward a couple of steps and then turned back. He had a gut feeling that the rock didn’t just break by itself.
As he peered even closer at the rather large, aging rock he noticed something peculiar. A set of bloodied fingers wiggled from the cracks. “Mama look!” He yelled out. She looked and saw nothing. “What is it Ahmad? I see nothing.”
“Look there at the cracks!” He continued to yell, this time pointing.
“Goodness, gracious!” She yelped as she too noticed the fingers.

“One, two, three, ready or not, here I come. Fatima I can hear you giggling; I know where you are. Ha I found you.”
“Nurallah you cheated!”
“How’d I cheat?”
“Um, I don’t know, did you peek?”
“No, not once.”
“Cross, your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye.”
“Yeah, all three of them. If you hide in the same place every time we play then I will always find you. Never hide in the same spot more than once because then it’ll be harder for me or anyone else to find you.”
“Nurallah, do you have to go now?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry I will come back. I made it back last time, I am sure I can make it back this time too.”
“Nurallah take this.”
“But this is your lucky ring.”
“I know, but I still want you to have it.”
“Okay fine. The next time we play you will hide better, right?”
“Right, I will hide so good that no one will ever find me.”

The woman ran over to the rock and yelled for Fatima to hang on. “Don’t worry. Help is coming you just hang on okay?” Fatima’s fingers retreated from the cracks and she stumbled back a few steps.
“What is your name?” She yelled.
“Fatima Ali Hussein.” Fatima said as she held on.
“Hurry, hurry this is Eman and Ali’s daughter. She survived.”

Fatima walked into her new classroom dreadfully excited. She wanted nothing more than to learn. However, she was afraid that she did not know anything and that her lack of knowledge would disappoint her Mualim (teacher).
“Sabah il khair (good morning). Welcome back to school. Would anyone like to introduce themselves to the class?”
“I would, me, me pick me!” Fatima anxiously shouted out.
“Very well.”
“My name is Fatima Ali Hussein, and my parents are Eman and Ali. I love school and I want to be a teacher one day.”
“Mashallah, thank you for sharing Fatima. Since you volunteered to be first you get a sticker of your choice.”
A group of men, fathers, ran up to the large rock and together they pushed the rock. Fatima laid there on the ground paler and colder than ever. They ran to her; surrounding her they tried talking to her until the ambulance arrived. With her eyes wide open Fatima stared off into the corner and she smiled. “Baba you found me.” I didn’t think you would find me this time. Mama, could we plant more flowers? How about Daisies? Nurallah I kept your dog tags for you. Here.” The men looked to the corner but saw nothing. As the ambulance rushed in, Fatima’s heart paused. They wanted to revive her but the woman stopped them and explained to them that she had nothing left and that bringing her back would be pointless. As they sat around her a sudden chill swept between them for a second and then it was gone.
“As long as we live, that rose and that daffodil over their will always stand together.”
“Wow mama! Can flowers really live that long?”
“As long as they are together they will live on forever”
“Even in the snow?”
“Even in the snow.”
In Loving Memory of…

Muhammad and Jamal Al Durrah

And to all other Palestinians that lost their lives to the harsh brutality of the Israeli soldiers

My heart shall forever be with you and your families

Al-Fâtiha - The Opening




1. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.
2. Praise be to God, the Cherisher and Sustainer of the world;
3. Most Gracious, Most Merciful;
4. Master of the Day of Judgment.
5. Thee do we worship, and Thine aid we seek.
6. Show us the straight way,
7. The way of those on whom Thou hast bestowed Thy Grace,
those whose (portion) is not wrath, and who go not astray.

- Translation by Abdullah Yusuf Ali

“There’s always a beginning to good end.”