Category: Reports

2 January 2009: Eyad al-Astal

2 January 12 | Palestinian Center for Human Rights

“The second of January is no different from any other day. Every day and every minute feels like the moment when I lost my sons. In everything there is a memory of them. I miss them all the time.”

On 2 January 2009 at around 14:30 an Israeli drone fired a missile at an open area in Qarara village, close to Khan Yunis. The missile struck and killed two brothers, Mohammed (12) and Abed Rabbo (9) al-Astal, and their cousin, Abdul Sattar Walid al-Astal (11) while they were playing and eating sugar canes in the land.

“I was at home when I heard an explosion that was close to our area. An Israeli drone was flying in the sky above us at that moment.” Eyad al-Astal recalls. “Approximately ten minutes later, my brother Ibrahim (28) came to my house and told me that my two sons and their cousin were killed by an Israeli shell. I rapidly left the house and headed to the scene about 250 meters west of my house. There I saw a deep hole. Traces of blood and fragments of flesh were still there.”

Three years have passed since Eyad lost his two sons but he still carries vivid memories with him. “Every day and every minute feels like the moment when I lost my sons. In everything there is a memory of them. I miss them all the time.”

Eyad tries to describe what the life of his family is like without Mohammed and Abed Rabbo: “Our lives have been very difficult since they were killed. Every time I see another boy their age, I remember my sons. I still cannot look at their photos, it is too painful.” He says; “I always feel like crying but I try not to. My wife, Jawaher, cries everyday but tries to hide her tears from me. She does not want to add salt to my wounds. My wife always wants to go to our sons’ graves with her mother, but I don’t. I only went once and don’t want to go again. I can’t face the sight of their graves.”

Besides Mohammed and Abed Rabbo, Eyad and his wife have five daughters and two sons. Mohammed and Abed Rabbo were the oldest children and their siblings were either very young or not born yet at the time of their death. The youngest child was born one and a half years after the war and will have no memories at all. “When the children ask us where their brothers are we tell them that they were killed, martyred, and are in heaven now”, says Eyad.

The memory of his sons is at the tip of Eyad’s tongue. “My son Khaled looks exactly like his brother Mohammed and I often find myself saying ‘Mohammed!’ when I actually mean to call Khaled.” In order to keep going, Eyad tries to stay busy all the time, finding some distraction by meeting people and working as a mason.

Since the death of his sons Eyad is tormented by worries and fears for the safety of his other children. Before the death of Mohammed and Abed Rabbo he allowed his children to go anywhere at anytime. Even when there were explosions and shooting was heard in the area. After the incident he became very afraid for his children and he wants to keep them inside. “I am afraid that anything would happen to them, especially for my son Khaled, who is now in the first grade. From the moment he leaves the house I worry that something could happen to him. Every day he walks to school, which is 1 kilometer away from our home. I know education is important, otherwise I would forbid him to go, out of my fear.”

The children themselves are aware that their brothers were killed by a drone: the same type of drone they often hear and see flying above themselves. Eyad explains that “when they hear a drone they are too afraid to go outside. ‘The drone will bomb me if I go out’, is what they say.”

The area where Mohammed and Abed Rabbo were killed was an open area approximately three kilometres away from the border with Israel. “The children were used to playing in that area. Our piece of land is close to it. It is an agricultural residential area, far from any hostilities,” Eyad explains.

Eyad is sceptical about the future, given the continuing impunity. “The Israelis disregard our rights. They kill our children and bulldoze our lands and no one will hold them accountable,” he says. “I expect the Israeli court to reject our complaint. I can even imagine them killing me together with my other children. However, I want to hope that the complaint would have some result.”

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

The series of narratives:

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

Israel treats Europeans with unwarranted arrests in Nabi Saleh

by Alex

2 January 2012 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

In the morning of the 30th of December three members of the International Solidarity Movement and one other international were walking the streets of Nabi Saleh when two military jeeps drew up and stopped next to them. A group of approximately ten soldiers jumped out of the jeeps grabbing two of the international volunteers, forcing them into the jeeps as they drew away. Inside the car they were told they were under arrest for disobeying orders, stating that when they had instructed the internationals to stop, the internationals had fled and disobeyed.  The ISM volunteers found this strange as they were the ones who actually stopped, and those who ran away were not arrested. The arrested were taken to a military-base where all their belongings were taken from them. They were then interrogated by a policeman. In this interrogation the charges were changed, shifting to allegations against the volunteers that they had entered a closed military-area, which also was strange as soldiers had blatantly let them into the area just an hour earlier.

After some hours waiting in the military base, they were handcuffed and driven to a police-station  where they were also shackled. Once again they were interrogated by another policeman, this time for disobeying orders to stop when the soldiers supposedly wished to inform the volunteers that they were in a closed military-area.

After the interrogation they were given a paper written in Hebrew to sign. It was translated orally by a soldier. They refused to sign it and instead they were given another paper that said that they could not go to Nabi Saleh for 15 days.

Afterwards they were released without charges. The policemen asked them to tell Europe how well the Israelis had treated them.

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

1 January 2009: The Nasla family

1 January 12 | Palestinian Center for Human Rights

“I wish that if our fate is to die, that we die together, I wouldn’t want anybody left to have to bear this sort of pain”

Jihad, Mu'tassam, and Zeid Nasla with a picture of M'uz Nasla, killed during the attack. (Photo: Palestinian Center for Human Rights)

On 1 January 2009 at around 15:00, Israeli military planes targeted a water tower across from the home of the Nasla family in North Beit Lahiya. The family were making lunch when the first bomb hit. As the family were trying to escape the smoke filled house, a second and third bomb struck the area, killing Ayoun Nasla, 6, and M’uz Nasla, 2.

For Ayoun and M’uz’s father, Jihad Nasla, the memory of what happened that day is especially distressing. “I found M’uz with his heart outside his chest and my daughter Ayoun with part of her skull missing and her brains spilt out,” says Jihad. “It is the night time, when I used to tell M’uz the stories of Abraham to get him to sleep, and when I go to visit their graves, when I most vividly recall the incident”. “I can no longer go into clothes shops to buy clothes for my children, I used to buy for three boys and two girl’s; I can’t bear to buy only for three”, added Fatima, 42.

The children’s mother, Fatima, has also given a lot of thought and attention to that fateful day. It is clear that she ruminates on the moments, days and years before the attack took place. “M’uz used to go to the balcony of the house every morning and say “good morning” to Majdal and Herbia, where our family is originally from, and every night he would say “good night.” The day he was killed he had said good morning but he never got to say good night,” says Fatima. “M’uz used to have a favourite resistance song he sang all the time, it reminds me so much of him anytime it is played, especially because it is played a lot on the anniversary of his death, which also happens to be the anniversary of one of the resistance groups.  The title of the song is now written on his grave.”

The family dynamic has been dramatically changed since the attack, a result of the stress they all share; the stress of one family member increases the anxiety of the others.  “My wife now cries every day, I have to try and calm her down every time and this has become a source of conflict between us,” says Jihad, to which Fatima adds: “I cry so often I feel my vision is now starting to be affected.” The children’s anxiety also feeds into the parent’s anxiety. “If Zeid wakes up in the middle of the night, when it’s dark, he starts to scream. I then wake up terrified something is happening” says Jihad.

The anxiety of the children is plain both from their parents discussion of the changes they have gone through since the death of their siblings, and their reaction to the unhappy topic of the discussion. “Mu’tassam was very calm until the incident. But he has started to become violent. His grades have also been lightly affected” says Jihad.

Talk of the future for the couple is largely filled with fear and doubt. “In the future I hope to live in peace with the Israelis, but I doubt this will happen given what the Israelis do to us” says Fatima. “I wish that if our fate is to die that we die together, I wouldn’t want anybody left to have to bear this sort of pain”. Jihad expresses similar feelings, “I am terrified that another attack will take more of us, when planes are flying overhead I tell my children to play so that we are distracted,” he says. “My hope is that the pain we carry will one day come to an end, but I don’t know how this is going to happen.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on 9 September 2009. To date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

31 December 2008: The Abu Areeda family

31 December 2011 | Palestinian Center for Human Rights

“Before my mother’s death we used to be very happy on 1 January, have celebrations and visit people. Now we are all silent in the last hour of each year and on 1 January we don’t celebrate the new year. We visit our mohter’s grave. We remember.”

(Photo: Palestinian Center for Human Rights)

Around 23:30 on 31 December 2008, an Israeli warplane fired a missile at Najma Parc, a small green strip in the main street of the residential al-Shaboura neighbourhood in Rafah, killing two civilians and injuring dozens of others. Iman Abu Areeda (34) was one of the two casualties, killed by a piece of shrapnel that penetrated her brain. Seven members of the extended Abu Areeda family who were also in the house at the time of the attack were mildly injured by shrapnel. The Abu Areeda family was displaced for several weeks after the attack as the external walls in the front side of the house were destroyed. The internal walls and furniture were also damaged.

It was about half an hour before midnight on 31 December when electricity in the area was cut. Iman went to cover her youngest son, Mohammed, who was sleeping in his room. As she was leaning over him, the missile hit a few dozen meters away from their family home. The shrapnel that came through the outer wall killed her. Iman left behind her husband Mahmoud Abu Areeda (now 39) and their 7 children: Majd (20), Randa (19), Basel (18), Hibba (14), Islam (12), Watan (9), and Mohammed (6).

“My mother died when I was 15 years old. It was the age that I needed her the most. I was in shock and I couldn’t believe that she died. I still do not believe it. I felt like not going to school any longer but I pushed myself and kept going because I know she would have wanted me to do so,” says Iman’s second oldest son, Basel.

His siblings, Majd, Randa, Islam and Hibba have been badly affected psychologically by the death of their mother. Since the attack they prefer to be by themselves, isolated from the rest of their family. Randa, Islam and Hibba received psychological support from a local NGO to deal with their loss and the traumatic experience of the attack. After a while their family noticed they started to recover and were able to interact again with the people around them.

Iman’s oldest son, Majd, says the past three years have been very difficult for his family. “We were all scattered after the death of my mother. I was alive but I didn’t feel alive. It took me a long time to believe that she had died. I had a very close relationship with my mother as I was her eldest child.”

Majd was in his final high school year when his mother was killed. “I didn’t prepare for my exams as I was suffering a lot psychologically. I thought ‘even if I pass my tawjihi [final exams] my mother is not here to be happy for me’. I failed my tawjihi. I hope I can redo it again and succeed. My mom wanted me to be an educated person, to get married and to take care of my siblings. I hope that I can live up to her wish.”

His brother Basel also faced difficulties in finishing his high school exams successfully. “Before the death of my mother I used to get high scores but after her death my scores dropped. My tawjihi was a disaster but thanks to the help of my uncle, the brother of my mother, I made it and I am now in university. I’m studying journalism,” says Basel, holding one of his notebooks.

The character of New Year has been changed forever for the Abu Areeda family. “Before my mother’s death we used to be very happy on 1 January, have celebrations and visit people. Now we are all silent in the last hour of each year and on 1 January we don’t celebrate the New Year. We visit our mohter’s grave. We remember,” says Basel. Majd adds that “our sadness is not limited on 1 January and we miss her on all special occasions, like on Eid holidays. On those days I prefer to stay in bed and sleep all day.”

Since he lost his mother, thinking of the future makes Majd anxious. “I am afraid of losing someone else who is close to me. Now my father is the closest one and I am afraid something will happen to him. After the death of my mother I feel like I have a dead heart. When I laugh I feel as if I do something wrong, I cannot laugh when my mother is dead.”

Basel tries to look at the future with hope. The memory of his mother motivates him. “I think of the future quite a bit. I know my mother wanted the best for us so for the future I hope that I will be able to finish my study, find work, get married and to have a family and to be respected in the community. Nothing can compensate for my loss and sadness, having lost the most precious thing I hold in my heart, but I know what my mother wanted for us and that is what I will try to achieve.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Abu Areeda family on 2 July 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

Ni’lin honors its heroes and urges military to “Stay Human”

by Barbara and James

30 December 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, West Bank

Volleys of tear gas, rubber coated steel bullets and live ammunition is how the Israeli Army met a small demonstration in remembrance of 2 martyrs, in Ni’lin today. Starting after Friday prayers approximately 25 Palestinians and 6 internationals made their way from the village through olive groves to the Apartheid Wall to commemorate the murder of Mohammed Khawaje and Arafat Khawaje on the 28th December 2008. Mohammed was shot in the forehead with live ammunition and Arafat was fatally shot in the back when attempting to rescue another villager who had been shot by an Israeli sniper.

Today the protest was immediately greeted with the full arsenal of the weapons available to the Israeli military. There was nearly as many heavily armed soldiers as demonstrators. A Palestinian demonstrator pleaded through a megaphone in a fog of tear gas for the soldiers to “Stay Human.”

The reply was a callous round of live ammunition fired at the demonstration. As the demo drew to a close, an armoured American-made Humvee packed with soldiers taunted the protest before a final set of shots were fired.

Ni’lin has been holding these weekly demonstrations since the Aparthied Wall was first planned. The Wall has annexed over 30% of the land of Ni’lin and has cost the lives of 5 martrys.

The protest continues weekly.

 Barbara and James are volunteers with International Solidarity Movement (names have been changed).