Tag: Cast Lead

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

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

12 January 2009 – The Ayad family

12 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“If there is another war I won’t be moving, even if we die there, I don’t want to go through that again”

Mustafa, Abdel Kareem and Rezeq Ayad (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 12 January 2009, the Ayad family home in the Zaytoon area of Gaza City was bulldozed by Israeli forces. Rezeq Ayad, 60, his wife Yusra, 58, and their four sons Mustafa, 16, Muhammed, 20, Abdel Kareem 26, and Khalil, 29, and Khalil’s two daughters were left homeless as a result of the attack. The family had left the area a few days prior to the destruction of their home, as a result of the intense Israeli bombardment of the area.

Speaking to Rezeq Ayad and his son, Abdel Kareem, the relief they feel having put their displacement behind them is clear. Now back in the family home – which they started rebuilding in May 2010 and moved into in October 2010 – the two are glad and thankful that the family are now safe and relatively secure once again. “I remember that time and I just thank God we are all still alive,” says Rezeq.

“We had left the house with nothing but the clothes we were wearing and a few blankets and mattresses,” explains Abdel Kareem, “we lost everything with the house when it was bulldozed.” In the aftermath of the attack the whole family were forced to find alternative shelter. “I and my wife moved to relatives in Asqoula in Gaza City,” says Rezeq, “my son Abdel Kareem was forced to move to the al Samouni neighbourhood and my son Khalil had no choice but to spend two years in a tent camp with his wife and young daughters.”

Rezeq’s son, Muhammed Ayad, who was 17 at the time, built a small structure among the ruins of the family home and stayed there so he could watch over the house and his donkeys, which he kept in the area.

Abdel Kareem and his wife Shaheera, 22, spent a little over a year in a makeshift hut that he built from corrugated iron and plastic. “My wife is from the al Samouni family; after the massacre of the al Samouni’s in that area during the war she didn’t want to move there out of fear of another attack taking place. But we had nowhere else to go.” Abdel Kareem describes the conditions the couple endured over that year as “intolerable.” “During the summer it was unbearably hot, during the winter, unbearably cold.”

Shaheera was pregnant with the young couple’s first child at the time the couple were homeless. “There was no running water or electricity in the hut. Shaheera would have to wait for me to come home from work to bring her water. Her pregnancy was very difficult. I was working selling vegetables and transporting goods to save money to build my house,” says Abdul Kareem, “the day we moved in my wife gave birth to my little girl Ru’al.” Reflecting on the incident Abdul stresses that he would be unwilling to put himself and his family through the same experience once more. “If there is another war I won’t be moving, even if we die there, I don’t want to go through that again.”

Khalil Ayad, his wife Nabila and their daughters Islam, 5, and Gadeer, 4, were also forced into haphazard makeshift accommodation after the attack. “Khalil went to a tent camp in the Zaytoon area of Gaza. There were a lot of families displaced during the war that moved there temporarily. But Khalil’s was the last family to leave. They spent two years there in total” says Rezeq. “They would collect firewood to cook and boil water and they shared a common well with the rest of the camp residents for water.” During this experience, Nabila gave birth to, Rezeq, now 1. Like Shaheera, Nabila’s pregnancy occurred under very difficult circumstances.

Talking of the future, Abdel Kareem’s hopes are simple. “I hope to be strong enough to continue my life and to be a good man” he says. As regards the families complaint with the Israeli government Rezeq and Abdel Kareem are dismissive of any potential for redress; “We don’t expect anything from the case. The house was a small home in a quiet residential neighbourhood. It was clearly not a military target. The soldiers knew what they were doing; they just wanted to destroy it. They will not investigate.”

Discussing how he was able to rebuild the family home following its destruction Rezeq explains that he had savings from his time as a school teacher in a local UNRWA school. Talking about what he had planned to do with the money he had saved over a lifetime, prior to spending it all on repairing the damage caused by the Israeli military, Rezeq says that he had hoped to help his sons with their marriage and their education. “I spent everything I had saved,” says Rezeq with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders, “so now I start again.”

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

The series of narratives:

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

11 January 2009: The Hamouda family

11 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“I cannot even pick up another child in my arms, I had a new grandchild, he is six months old, but I have yet to take him in my arms, I feel that place belongs to Fares”

Talat and Intissar Hamouda (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

In the early morning of 11 January 2009, the home of Intissar Hamouda, 41, in Tal Al-Hawa. Gaza City, came under attack from Israeli forces. Israeli tank fire resulted in the death of her son, Fares Hamouda, who was two years old at the time of the attack, and her step son Muhammed who she cared for with her husband Talat, 54, Muhammed’s father. Fares died immediately in Intissar’s arms, while Muhammed bled to death as medical crews were unable to reach them.

“Muhammed and Fares had a lot in common. After I had Fares I could not breastfeed so we had to give him manufactured milk. Muhammed lost his mother at ten months and so was also fed manufactured baby milk. As a result, both had similar illnesses with similar symptoms,” says Intissar. Throughout their brief time together the brothers remained close. “Fares would refuse to go to sleep until Muhammed came home from school. On the day of the attack Fares was sick, but he refused to take medicine from me, he wanted it from Muhammed,” says Intissar.

Following the attack Intissar was severely debilitated. “I could not walk on my legs even six months after the incident due to injuries in my legs and pelvis; I needed help from my step daughters and sisters to move around the house.” Intissar has since undergone three surgeries to remove shrapnel from her abdomen as well as reconstructive plastic surgery.

Fares was not only close to his half brother Muhammed, but also to Intissar’s step daughter Kariman and step grandchild Rania, who were 13 and 2 respectively at the time of the incident. Both have been traumatised as a result. “Kariman became extremely aggressive in school and at the advice of teachers Talat decided to withdraw her from it,” says Imtissar. “Three months following the incident I came back to the house with Rania to get her toys and other things, but she begged me not to enter the house and wouldn’t take anything from it.” Similarly, Intissar said that “ten days ago we were in the Old City shopping and Rania saw a funeral of someone killed in a recent Israeli attack, it reminded Rania of Fares and Muhammed and she started to cry, when I explained they had gone to heaven, she replied, “just like Muhammed and Fares”.”

Intissar and Talat have both been emotionally affected by the loss of their sons. “I cannot even pick up another child in my arms, I had a new grandchild, he is six months old, but I have yet to take him in my arms, I feel that place belongs to Fares,” says Talat. The anniversary is particularly hard on Intissar, who still suffers chronic pain from nerve damage as a result of the attack. “As the day approaches they show interviews taken of me after the incident or start to talk about the attack,” says Intissar, “I can’t even watch stories of other women with similar experiences, so I don’t turn on the television.”

As regards the future the couple feel they have nothing left to be taken from them. “We lost the nearest things to us, we have nothing else left to lose,” says Intissar. “I am no longer even afraid of the bombings.” However Intissar clings to some hope that she can have another child following the death of Fares, who she tried to conceive for 21 years. “I have tried through artificial insemination already, but it didn’t work. I’m hoping to try again.” Similarly Talat has hopes that there will be political reconciliation among the Palestinian political factions. Regarding the prospects of their complaint in Israeli courts, Intissar is unimpressed; “the Israeli’s committed war crimes against us, they destroy the houses over the heads of civilians, I expect no justice from them.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Hamouda Family on 21 July 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

10 January 2009: Wafa al-Radea

10 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“When I left my children I was walking and my children had not seen my wounds. The most difficult moment was when I came back with only 1 leg and many injuries. I was a different Wafa. When I came back I was supposed to happy and the people were supposed to be happy for seeing me but everyone was crying.”

Wafa al-Radea (39) together with her son Iyad (3). (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 10 January 2009, at around 16:30, Wafa al-Radea (39) and her sister Ghada (32) were targeted by two Israeli drone missiles while walking on Haboub street, one of the main roads in Beit Lahiya. The sisters were walking during the Israeli announced hour long ceasefire, and were on their way to a clinic nearby because Wafa felt that she was close to delivering a baby. Both women were severely injured in the attack.

“When people came to help I could hear them speak but was unable to respond. They were saying that I was dead,” remembers Wafa. While Ghada was taken to hospital with severe injuries to her legs, people had covered Wafa as they thought she was dead. Eventually an ambulance brought her to a hospital where doctors carried out a caesarean section surgery in an attempt to save her baby. It was only during the surgery the doctors realized Wafa was still alive. While her son, Iyad, was born, doctors amputated Wafa’s right leg and attempted to treat her other injuries. On 12 January both sisters were transferred to a hospital in Egypt for additional medical treatment. Wafa underwent a series of operations until the end of April and then had 3 months of rehabilitation. Wafa and Ghada returned to Gaza on 29 and 27 June 2009.

Wafa vividly remembers the months she spent in Egypt. “My clearest memory of that time is the unbearable pain caused by the changing of the bandages. It took nurses 5 to 6 hours each time. I underwent many surgeries. After an operation to transplant skin from my left thigh to a lower part of my leg, nurses removed the transplanted cells by mistake when cleaning the wound. I had to undergo the same surgery again, this time taking skin from my arms. I was screaming because of the pain. My brother Walid (25) lost consciousness and was bleeding from his nose. He couldn’t bear what was happening to me. I was very angry at everyone after the operation.” Wafa’s brother Walid was with her throughout the whole period in Egypt. She didn’t see my other relatives from Gaza. “It was very difficult for them to visit me because travelling to Egypt is costly and they had to look after the children,” she says.

Wafa is the mother of 8 children: Ehab (20), Lina (19), Hani (17), Shourouq (15), Mo’taz (13), Saher (12), Jehad (9), and Iyad (3). During her time in Egypt Wafa had limited contact with her children. She says: “in the first 3 months I couldn’t speak to my children over the phone. I refused. I was unable to talk. They were waiting for me for 6 months. The children were curious to know what happened to me.”

“When I left my children I was walking and my children had not seen my wounds. The most difficult moment was when I came back with only 1 leg and many injuries. I was a different Wafa. When I came back I was supposed to happy and the people were supposed to be happy for seeing me but everyone was crying,” Wafa recalls. “I noticed that my children watched my every move. Jehad kept following me with his eyes, watching how I went to the living room, how I sat down. He refused to go out and play with other children. He just wanted to stay with me in the home. I was very affected by the situation of my children. They are always ready to help me whenever I try to move or do anything.”

Wafa’s eldest daughters, Lina (19) and Shourouq (16) had taken care of Iyad while their mother was in hospital in Egypt. “One of them would go to school in the morning and leave Iyad with her sister. In the afternoon it was the other way around.” She continues: “when I came home they brought Iyad and put him on my lap. He was blond and beautiful and I thought he was a nephew. I couldn’t imagine that he was my son. I asked them about Iyad and they told me that he was on my lap.” Wafa takes a lot of strength from having her children around her. She says “I am very grateful and happy for having my children. They help me with everything and keep my morale high. Even when I am sad, I would smile if my children came to me. I want them to feel that I am happy because I am with them.”

Wafa finds it difficult to accept help from her children: “I always used to be the one who would help them. Before, I used to go to the school to check on the children and walk to the market to do the shopping. Now if want to go out I must use a car. And if I want to move in the house I must use a wheelchair. I also use the walkers and if Iyad wants to take my hand I cannot give him my hand because I am afraid that I will fall. I need my hands to hold the walkers.”

Wafa received one year of physiotherapy in Gaza for her back, pelvis and her left leg. Despite several attempts, so far she has no prosthetic leg. She also still undergoes treatment for her left leg. “My leg is getting better but I am still in hospital from time to time, for example when I have inflammations. One month ago I was in hospital for 6 days. In winter my wounds hurt more and I feel pain in my pelvis, back, abdomen and legs.”

Despite constantly being confronted with the past Wafa tries to focus on the future. “I hope that our children will not have to pass through similar experiences when they are older. I wish that their lives will be better. But my children keep asking me ‘will there be another war, come again and kill us all?’ They are afraid and I see how the war negatively impacted on them,” she says.

Wafa feels great frustration over how the crime against her and her sister caused so much suffering and yet goes unpunished. “It has been 3 years since they [Israel] attacked us and there is still no response. I spoke to many people from human rights organizations about my story and what is the result of it? There is no result or action whatsoever.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of Wafa al-Radea on 07 October 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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