Year: 2012

15 January 2009: The al-Nadeem family

15 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“Naser used to help the children with their school work, especially English and mathematics. Now that is my duty. Nothing can compensate me for the loss of my husband. He was always very tender, understanding and calm.”

Majda al-Nadeem with her sons Mohannad, Firas, and Bashar (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 15 January 2009, shortly after 7:00, the Israeli army fired a tank shell and live ammunition at Naser al-Nadeem and his two sons, Bashar (17) and Firas (15), who were fleeing their home in the Tal al-Hawa neighbourhood of Gaza City. The two boys sustained moderate injuries while their father was severely injured. After 9 months of intensive medical treatment in Egypt and Gaza, Naser al-Nadeem eventually succumbed to his wounds. He was 44. Naser’s wife, Majda al-Nadeem (45), is now a single parent of three sons, Mohanned (19), Bashar (17), Firas (15), and two daughters, Dima (14) and Tala (9).

“What keeps me going are my children, my children only. I am originally from Damascus and met their father when he was studying there. We married in 1990 and I moved to Gaza with him. I always think to return to Damascus to go and live with my family, but I know that it is better for my children to be here in Gaza. This is their home. I am doing whatever I can to protect them,” says Majda as she smiles at her sons.

All the responsibilities of the household are now on Majda’s shoulders, both with respect to caring for the children and financially. “Naser used to help the children with their school work, especially English and mathematics. Now that is my duty. Nothing can compensate me for the loss of my husband. He was always very tender, understanding and calm.”

Majda explains how she struggles to provide for the most basic needs since Naser died. “My husband used to have an engineering company with a partner and we used to have a good life. Now everything has changed. I am always thinking of how I can provide for my children; how will I bring food, pay for school, electricity, water, everything? I have a lot of pressure on me and it affects me psychologically. We received some payments from the Palestinian Engineers Union and charity organizations but it is not enough or infinite. My family in Syria also tries to help us out financially. They sent us money to repair our house after the war. The bathroom, kitchen, and sewerage were destroyed and there were smoke marks everywhere. Over the past three years our financial situation has gotten worse. A few days ago our electricity was cut off because we cannot pay for the bill.”

The children have difficulties in comprehending the changed financial situation. Majda says: “they want to have what the other children have, but I cannot provide it. They also had to leave their [private] school and change to a public school. It has been very difficult for them to adapt to these changes. They are not convinced that I cannot provide them with everything they want.”

The physical injuries Bashar and Firas sustained in the attack still mark their daily lives. Firas’ right knee was shattered by a bullet. His right leg is shorter as a result and does not bend. Majda explains: “last year doctors placed platinum inside his knee. Now Firas has to wait until he is an adult. Then doctors will check what another surgery can do. But they also said it will never become the way it used to be.” Firas says: “I used to play karate with Bashar but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t really run either. Now I play ping pong.”

Bashar had shrapnel wounds in his left leg and right arm, and back. His leg is deformed and sometimes he has pain caused by infections and muscle damage. “Bashar is a very sporting boy. He used to do karate but he changed to gymnastics because of his injuries. Despite his injury, he insists on continuing his sports activities,” says his mother.

Because of their injuries Bashar and Firas were not able to go back to school until the following semester. Majda called the Ministry of Education and told them that they had to provide the boys with home schooling; “teachers came to teach mathematics, Arabic and English at home, and the boys managed to end their school year with success.”

Despite their optimistic and brave outlook on life, Majda and her children carry with them the psychological scars of the offensive. “The war did change my children. It was a very difficult experience, even for us as adults,” she says. “When we hear explosions we feel fear and remember the war and the attack. If I am afraid, then how must my children be feeling? In the year after his father was killed, Firas would wake up at night and scream ‘I want my father’. Now he is older and understands that his father will never come back. The school performances of Bashar and Firas have been affected too. It is getting better, but nothing is as it was before the war. Firas is also held back by his medical treatment.”

“We are in need of psychological support,” says Majda. “But the people working in this field only visited us for their own interests; taking photos and videos, for the benefit of their organization only.” Bashar adds: “once, a psychological worker came to talk with me but I couldn’t stay with her. She was the one who needed help. I told her that and then left the room.” Majda says: “the only organization I really respect is MSF. The day after the children returned home from the hospital they visited us and kept coming to our house for one year, until the wounds of my children were healed.”

When speaking about her outlook on the future, Majda says “I don’t have a clear picture of what it will be like. What I am sure about is that I cannot guarantee a nice future for my children. But I am trying to teach my children that education is very important for their future and convince them to do well in school.”

Majda is uncertain whether the attack on her family will result in justice in an Israeli court. “They targeted my husband and children, civilians. I am not sure if there will be any result in a court. If there will be any results, they will just make financial compensation and not bring my husband back to life,” she says.

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Nadeem family on 23 June 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

14 January 2009 – Muhammed Mousa
13 January 2009: Hibba al-Najjar
12 January 2009 – The Ayad family
11 January 2009: The Hamouda family
10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family

14 January 2009 – Muhammed Mousa

14 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“We would stay up late at night talking with each other about what had happened over the day, we were brothers, if ever I needed anything I could go to them and they would help me out”

Mahammed Mousa (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 14 January 2009, at approximately 21:00, Israeli aircraft targeted the Mousa family home near al Sabra pharmacy in the south of Gaza City. Izz Addin Wahid Mousa, 48, his wife, Maysara Afif Mousa, 48, their sons Wahid Izz Addi Mousa, 28, Ahmed Izz Addi Mousa, 27, Mohammed Izz Addi Mousa, 22, and daughter Nour Izz Addi Mousa, 15, were killed in the attack.

The physical scars caused by the attack are still clearly visible on 25 year old Muhammad Mousa. With nerve and bone damage in both his right arm and leg he has been left with a strong limp and his face displays patches of taut skin showing where he was burnt from the fire that engulfed his home. His injuries have left him unable to continue working in the local marble factory, leaving him unable to pick up the pieces of his life after losing his father, mother, sister and three brothers.

Like many who lost their homes during the offensive, Muhammad, has been forced to move frequently. He has moved  five times in the intervening period and, with another years rent due on his current home and no way to pay it, has not yet found stability and security. “After the attack I started rebuilding the destroyed home, but I couldn’t bear to live there, the incident would keep flooding back into my memory,” says Muhammad. “I went to live with my uncle, Hani, but he has a family of his own so I could not stay there.”

Emotionally, Muhammad has found himself hugely altered since the war and has had trouble sleeping since the incident. “At first I could not sleep at night at all, I would sit awake all night and might sleep for a while in the morning.” He now needs help doing basic things that others take for granted, such as preparing food to eat, which leaves him short tempered. “I lose patience very quickly, when I can’t do something myself I get hugely frustrated and become angry.” This is compounded by the sense of helplessness he feels regarding medical treatment for his injuries, which he says he was told by doctors is only available in Germany. He still requires extensive medical treatment on bone and nerves in his leg and for shrapnel wounds in his abdomen.

“I was in hospital for four months in Egypt (of which two and half months was in intensive care) without knowing the fate of my family. My sisters had initially told me that they were fine for the sake of my recovery. When I told them I was ready to come home they were forced to tell me the news that they had died, I immediately regressed and had to spend another two weeks in intensive care before being able to go.”

Muhammad has fond memories of his deceased brothers Wahid, Ahmed and Mohammad who he was very close to. It is clear he desperately misses their company. “We would stay up late at night talking with each other about what had happened over the day. We were brothers, if ever I needed anything I could go to them and they would help me out.” He says they are never far from his mind day or night, asleep or awake.

Muhammad shares the dreams of any young man for his future; he wants to get married, build a home, and one day have children. But he is sceptical his hopes will come true. “How can I provide for a wife and children, I cannot work, I cannot earn a living.” While he is optimistic about the outcome of legal action being taken on his behalf in Israeli courts he says what has been taken from him cannot be replaced, what he wants from the case is accountability for those responsible for his family’s death. “Money cannot replace what I have lost, I want to know why our home, which was nowhere near any military operations, was targeted, and why my family, who were not involved in politics, were killed.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Mousa family on 18 May 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

13 January 2009: Hibba al-Najjar
12 January 2009 – The Ayad family
11 January 2009: The Hamouda family
10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family

We Remember: Tom Hurndall

13 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement

Tom was 21 years old when he was shot. A photography student, he had left the UK to volunteer as a ‘human shield’ in Iraq. Here he heard about the ISM, one of whose volunteers, Rachel Corrie, had just been killed by a bulldozer whilst protesting house demolitions in Rafah. He headed there himself, arriving on the 6th April.

On the day of his shooting, Tom was with other ISM activists walking through Rafah when Israeli sniper fire started. Almost everyone ran for safety, but Tom noticed that three children, aged between four and seven, had remained motionless, paralysed with fear. Tom went back for them. He got the little boy to safety, and then went back for the two girls. He was wearing a fluorescent vest, and was clearly unarmed. An Israeli sniper shot him in the head.

(27 November 1981 – 13 January 2004)

There was a two hour delay at the border of the Gaza Strip before an ambulance was able to take him to a hospital in Be’er Sheva. In a coma, he was transferred to a hospital in the UK, where he died the following year.

The soldier who shot him, Taysir Hayb, was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to eleven and a half years in prison. A British inquest into the killing found that the killing was intentional – in other words, murder.

Tom’s shooting followed the murder of Rachel Corrie, run over by a bulldozer on the 16th March, and the near fatal shooting of Brian Avery, shot in the face in Jenin on April 5th. Later that month, another Brit, filmmaker James Miller, was also killed by a sniper in Rafah. The Israeli military have refused to accept any responsibility for what they did to Rachel, Brian or James.

Hurndall was trying to save Palestinian homes and infrastructure but frequently came under Israeli fire and seemed to have lost his fear of death. “While approaching the area, they (the Israelis) continually fired one- to two-second bursts from what I could see was a Bradley fighting vehicle… It was strange that as we approached and the guns were firing, it sent shivers down my spine, but nothing more than that. We walked down the middle of the street, wearing bright orange, and one of us shouted through a loudspeaker, ‘We are International volunteers. Don’t shoot!’ That was followed by another volley of fire, though I can’t be sure where from…” – Robert Fisk, The Independent, 2009

Tom Hurndall was a young man with a dream…he paid for it with his life. –The Telegraph, 2004

Tom, blind to nationalities and borders, exuded humanity. He wanted, he wrote in his journal, “to make a difference”. He did. He also had an outrageous sense of humour and will be missed, most of all, because he made those of us who were his friends smile. He is survived by his parents, sister Sophie, and his brothers Billy and Freddy. – Carl Arindell, The Guardian,  2004.

Today International Solidarity Movement pays tribute to Tom Hurndall for his bravery and sacrifices. He is never far from our thoughts, and he continues to inspire our Palestinian, Israeli, and International volunteers throughout our campaigns in the Occupied Territories. Tom would want us to remember him. But we also know he’d want us to remember that thousands of innocent Palestinians have died under similar circumstances. These people’s deaths have not been investigated, and have often been lied about, claiming the victims to be combatants or explained away with empty phrases like “caught in the crossfire” or “tragic accident.”

While the ISM acknowledges that the Israeli military court found Wahid Taysir guilty of manslaughter, an injustice was committed by his early release from prison in September 2010 due to “good behavior.”

The international community will continue to question the policy and decision makers responsible for Tom’s murder and the murder of thousands of other innocent people.

Palestine doesn’t ask for aid, but for freedom and recognition

by Emma

13 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

I always knew I would go to Palestine one day. It wasn’t until I met my four friends from Gaza, Motasem, Mohammed, Hussein and Mo’min, during my time as an exchange student at a Turkish university, that I finally decided to go. Their humble and honest account of what was happening in Palestine inspired me to come and experience the situation myself. After three months in the West Bank, I wish everyone would take the opportunity to come here and see the situation themselves.

Being an international in Palestine means that you share the everyday life of ordinary people who have the same aspirations as everyone else. It’s a small act of solidarity and a way of saying, “I see you and I stand with you.” You will not only have a family and a home but also an incredible insight to a beautiful culture which most often is forgotten when headlines from this region reach the world.

Whether I’ve been up north in Nablus or down south in Al Khalil (Hebron), people have welcomed me and treated me as one of their own. Never in my life has my family been this big. Maybe because of this, the occupation seem a lot more personal to me now than when I first arrived here. Palestinians are not just Palestinians, but my brothers and sisters, friends and family.

The young teenager being detained at the checkpoint could be my brother, and the young girls who are being assaulted by soldiers on their way to school could be my sisters.

The middle aged man who tries to stop the bulldozer from demolishing his family’s home could be my father, and the middle aged woman who is quicklypicking olives  because of looming, violent settlers, she could be my mother.

The very old man who has to take the long way up the stairs carrying his bags (because all Palestinians are forbidden from entering Shuhada Street in Hebron) could be my grandfather, and the very old lady who is afraid of soldiers because they enter her home in the middle of the night could be my grandmother.

Every one of them could be family and indeed, for three months in Palestine, all of them were. When I left Sweden my friends and family worried that I might be hurt or injured because the Palestinian territory is supposed to be a dangerous place. However as I immediately discovered, Palestine is not a violent place and Palestine is not dangerous. What is dangerous and violent is the 64 year old occupation which has been imposed on Palestinians since 1948.

When I say that it is violent I want to distinguish between two sorts of violence. As an international in Palestine you see mainly the structural violence or the everyday violence in forms of military presence, checkpoints, watch towers, roadblocks, verbal assaults and harassment. If you stay long enough you will also experience or see some direct violence such as random arrests, house raids, home demolitions, prevention of Palestinian peaceful protests in form of rubber coated steel bullets, live ammunition, sound bombs, teargas and people being shot and abused.

The list can easily be made longer. These abuses of basic human rights are not only illegal under international law but very dangerous and violent both for the individual and the community. Occupation deprives Palestinians of their basic human needs, rights and recognition as human beings. It is violent and dangerous because it denies them the right to stay, live, and exist on their own land.

As such, occupation is visible and institutionalized in every aspect of life in Palestine.

I was in the beautiful and very old Ibrahimi mosque in Al Khalil, when Israeli male and female soldiers entered in uniforms, with boots and weapons among praying Muslims. In addition all Israeli female soldiers refrained from covering their hair, which is a custom when entering a holy sanctuary in Islam. Religion doesn’t have a nationality but is something that transcends borders and should be respected as part of human dignity. The choice to enter the mosque in this way meant that they not only degraded Islam as a religion, but they also made sure to violate the most important place and last resort that Palestinians can go to in order to seek some peace and privacy. And this is the very idea of the occupation. It has nothing to do with security or Israel trying to protect itself. Rather it’s a strategy of occupation which aims at making life unbearable for Palestinians so that they will move and eventually leave whatever land they have left.

Soldiers harassing Palestinians and  roadblocks, checkpoints, and temporary closure of roads are part of the strategy. It has absolutely nothing to do with security or protection. Since the beginning of the occupation, Israeli citizens are protected by civil law while Palestinians are under military law. This implicates several things. First of all, Israeli soldiers are not allowed to arrest or detain any Israeli citizen.

In the West Bank where settler violence against Palestinians has increased, soldiers in charge are not allowed to interfere with their citizens since their mandate is directed towards Palestinians only. There are several accounts where Israeli soldiers have either stood by or assisted settlers in committing violent acts against Palestinians. Second, the military law means that any Palestinian can be put in administrative detention without access to lawyer, not knowing what the charge is and how long they will be kept. Moreover, Defense for Children International (DCI) estimated in 2011 that more than 7,500 Palestinian children have been prosecuted in Israeli military courts since 2000. The report further concludes that ill treatment begins at the moment of arrest which often happens during night time military raids. The child is being abducted from the home with little or no information of where they are going. In most cases, parents are not allowed to visit their children, send them new clothes, and they get little information about their child’s well-being.

Military courts have no obligation to follow Israeli law or international legal obligations. Many reports from different sources have documented the use of ill-treatment, torture and a general failure to meet international standards in detention centers and prisons. When Israel is continuously being referred to as “the only democracy” in the Middle East, this is something we should keep in mind. For most people, abduction of children in the middle of the night and administrative detentions are a grave contradiction to concepts of “democracy.”

The question is, what more do the Palestinians have to negotiate with when more and more land is being confiscated by settlements including East Jerusalem? What should Palestinians negotiate with when not even their own president Mahmoud Abbas can leave Palestine without Israeli permission? There is something very wrong with the idea that when every peaceful Palestinian attempt at expression is being met with violence and immediate crackdown, the international community continues to stress Israel’s right to protect itself. Protect itself from what?

After three months in the West Bank, I am more than convinced that this is not a conflict nor a war–not between Arabs and Israelis and certainly not between Palestinians and Israelis. This is an occupation rooted in deep injustice with Israel as the aggressor. For every action there is a reaction. Simple as that. Just as much as Israel has the right to defend itself so should Palestinians too. Security is a mutual concept, and if the argument is that Israeli citizens have to be protected so should the Palestinians. Palestinians are the ones who have to endure Israel’s “security” measures, and Palestinians are the ones living under occupation while Gaza endures a siege. Israel is the one who is expanding settlements, building the wall, continuously demolishing Palestinian private property and confiscating more land.

Having walked under the EU sponsored metal net that is supposed to prevent rubbish, stones and liquid thrown by violent settlers from reaching targeted Palestinian pedestrians in Hebron’s Old City, I feel ashamed of being a part of an international community which allows this to happen. Of course it is easier to sponsor a net rather than coming to terms with the real problem. But Palestine doesn’t ask for aid, more NGOs, and certainly not another metal net, but simply for freedom and recognition.

A system is not static or superior to the individuals that give it power, but it is the organization of these individual capacities which create these systems. Diplomats, officials, politicians, soldiers and civilians who say they are only doing their job and are limited at doing otherwise are simply wrong.  Likewise the international community is wrong if it states it cannot do much. We’re all part of the society in which we function, and we all have a personal responsibility. We all have a possibility to do something, no matter how small that act may be.

An international Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement against buying into Israeli occupation should be the top priority for civil society around the world.  A boycott of Israel and Israeli products would also mean a new debate, where the international community allows Palestinians to raise their voice economically rather than us just hearing Benjamin Netanyahu’s so called economic peace plan.

As it is time for me to leave, I remember all the wonderful people I’ve met and the beautiful places and villages I visited in Palestine. Never in my life have I been surrounded by so much love and generosity as I have experienced here in Palestine.

Indeed Palestine was my home for three months because Palestinians made it my home. As I say goodbye to Palestine for now, memories of my time here put a smile on my face and tears run down my cheeks.

As we look forward to a new year and new possibilities, Palestine has been under occupation for 64 years . As Palestine welcomes us to share the year of 2012, we should all remember that freedom means nothing without the freedom, equal rights, and the international recognition of Palestinians.

Emma is a volunteer with International Solidarity Movement (name has been changed).

13 January 2009: Hibba al-Najjar

13 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“The first two years I could manage but this year I have been suffering a lot from the loss of my mother. When I see girls from my school with their mother or talking about their mother, I miss my mother even more. I need to have her with me.”

Hibba al-Najjar (17) sitting opposite her home in Khuza'a village (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

In the early morning of 13 January 2009, following two days of home demolitions, the Israeli army started to shell the village of Khuza’a and its surroundings, using high explosive and white phosphorous artillery shells. Israeli bulldozers, tanks and snipers were located on the edge of the village. At around 7:00 soldiers ordered the residents of eastern Khuza’a, to leave the area and move towards the centre of the village. Holding a white flag, Rawhiya al-Najjar (47) led a group of approximately 20 women in an attempt to leave as ordered. Shortly after the group turned the first corner a soldier shot and killed Rawhiya. Another woman in the group, Yasmin al-Najjar (23), was injured by two bullets when she tried to take Rawhiya off the road. Medical staff who tried to evacuate Rawhiya’s body were shot at and had to take refuge in a nearby house, and were only able to take the body from the street after more than 10 hours.

“I can still hear the bullet hit my mother in the head. I was standing right beside her when the soldier stepped into the doorway of the house ahead and shot her. I could see him,” says Rawhiya’s 17 year old daughter Hibba as she depicts the situation with her arms. “I keep wondering why they killed my mother while she was carrying a white cloth in the street, but why I was not killed when I was on the roof of our house earlier that morning.” Hibba still cannot make sense of what happened that day.

Hibba is an the only child. She lives with her father, Naser, his second wife, Nuha, and their three children. Her father married Nuha when it became clear that Rawhiya was not able to have any more children and convinced him to marry a second wife. Naser became unemployed after the full closure on the Gaza Strip was imposed. Now the family is dependent on aid and shared agriculture with relatives on lands next to the village, close to the border with Israel.

From the day of the incident Hibba and her family stayed away from the house for two weeks, saying it was too dangerous to move in that part of Khuza’a. For the two months after that they only went to their house during the daytime and spent the night at the house of relatives in a safer area.

Since the death of her mother Hibba suffers from nightmares, insomnia, stress, and bedwetting. “Before, I would sleep immediately. Now I can’t get to sleep at night,” says Hibba. Sometimes her father finds her sleepwalking and talking about her mother. Lately she has also begun to experience blurry vision and dizziness. When Hibba started to lose her hair a few months ago, Naser took his daughter to a hospital. The doctor told Hibba and her father that she needs to spend some time outside of the Gaza Strip. Naser is thinking of taking her to Egypt for a little while next summer. However, the closure and high costs make this option far from easy. Hibba says she would like to go out of Gaza but adds that “it will not make me forget anything.”

Hibba’s schoolwork has also been affected by the traumatic experience and death of her mother. “My mother used to help me with my homework and I used to be very good at school. Now my grades are lower and I am not able to focus in class. When I open a book I feel tired and remember my mother. Even when I study well for an exam, I often forget everything during the exam,” she says. Hibba enjoys subjects like Islamic religion and geography but feels sad knowing her scores have dropped a lot. This is the final year of high school for Hibba. However, she doesn’t think about what comes after the final exams next summer; “I don’t want to think long-term.”

Hibba does not like the month of January as it reminds here of the time of the offensive. However, she says 13 January is like any other day for her, “there is no difference with other days because I remember my mother every day regardless.” When she feels most sad she usually takes a chair and sits outside the house for a while. Sometimes talking to relatives and her best friend, who is also her neighbour, brings some relief. Hibba is glad to have such a good friend who tries to support her; “I can tell her everything. Without my friend I would have crumbled under the pressure of my loss.”

Hibba does not think about the future but rather relives what happened to her and her mother on 13 January 2009. “Since the morning I have been thinking a lot of the incident and how we left my mother in the street,” she says, having to pause after every few words. Many things in daily life remind her of her old life with and her future without her mother. “Whenever I see an old woman in the street I wonder if I will still have a clear memory of my mother when I am at that age.”

Discussing PCHR’s submission of complaints to the Israeli authorities regarding the killing of her mother, Hibba says she does not care: “Nothing can compensate for the loss of my mother but I wish that the soldier who shot my mother will be brought to justice.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Najjar family on 23 June 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

12 January 2009 – The Ayad family
11 January 2009: The Hamouda family
10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea
9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family
8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family
7 January 2009 – The Mattar family
6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family
5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni
4 January 2009: The Abdel Dayem family
3 January 2009: Motee’ and Isma’il as-Selawy
2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal
1 January 2009: The Nasla family
31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family
30 December 2008: The Hamdan family
29 December 2008: Balousha family
28 December 2008: The Abu Taima family
27 December 2008: The Al Ashi family