Tag: Khuza’a - Page 5 - International Solidarity Movement

The Israeli Army shot at me and 3 Palestinian kids in Gaza today

Children duck to avoid Israeli Army gunfire - Click here for more images

Radhika S.
28 October 2011 | Notes from Behind the Blockade

After a lovely day of drinking excessive amounts of tea with a few families in South Gaza (Faraheen and Khuza’a, to be exact), an Italian colleague, Silvia, who used to live in Khuza’a, suggested walking down the road towards the local school. It was late afternoon, about 4:30 p.m. and dozens of children played in the area. We walked past slices of a giant concrete wall placed in the middle of the road. The slivers reminded me of Israel’s Apartheid Wall in the West Bank — 25 feet of reinforced concrete. The local villagers had apparently retrieved these sections from a former settlement and placed them there so that children could play outside while being (somewhat) protected from Israeli army gunfire.

Silvia pointed to a school farther down the road. “That’s where the children go to school,” she said. The sun was beginning to set and the area was quite beautiful if one didn’t look too hard at the Israeli military towers in the distance. I took some pictures, and even asked Silvia to take a photo of me. Kids played nearby and a donkey cart passed us. I photographed a house that looked like it had been bombed, but the bougainvillea had grown back in vibrant fuchsia. Two boys playing with a piece of plastic ran towards us from farther up the road and begged me to take a photo. I snapped a sloppy photo, and they eagerly checked their digital images on my camera. One in a green sweater thought it was terribly funny that the boy’s in a red hoodie’s head was missing in my photo.

They ran up ahead, and we walked for about 15 seconds when I heard a strange whiz, a whistle, eerily close to my ear. I paused, a bullet? Red hoodie and two younger boys up ahead hit the floor as I momentarily pondered the strange sound.

The kids turned around and yelled at us to stupid foreigners to get down. We bent down and started to walk away — fast — and they yelled at us to get completely on the ground. The Israeli army left us no time to be scared. No gunshots over our heads. No warnings. A second bullet whizzed past the three kids, and then us. The Israelis were shooting at us from the towers 500 meters ahead. This time, we were on the ground. I continued to look at these 9-year-olds or 10-year-olds or whatever they were for cues–walking towards their school under Israeli fire was clearly routine for them and they knew what they were doing. We waited on the ground for several minutes. As I still had my camera in hand, I snapped a quick photo of them from the ground.

A minute or two later a father and his toddler, also further up on the road came towards us and offered a ride on the back of his motorized cart. We jumped in and he “sped” back to behind the wall. Anyway, I got back to my apartment about an hour later, just in time for my Arabic class. Even though I had actually studied this time, I couldn’t concentrate. Why was the Israeli army shooting at our heads?

And I realized this is what Palestinian first, second, third, fourth graders experience daily in Gaza.

Israeli army shoots at children and two ISM activists

Silvia Todeschini
28 October 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza

Witnesses in Gaza today reported an escalation of Israeli aggression in the Khuza’a – Abasan, governate of Khan Younis, Gaza Strip. The Israeli army also shot at two ISM activists and local children.

Israeli tanks entered Gaza this morning, from approximately 7.30 to 8.30, moving from the village of Faraheen to Khuza’a. Residents reported hearing numerous gun shots. Suzanne, who lives in the north of Khuza’a, confirmed that in recent days, Israeli tanks have entered Gaza on a daily basis. Another women, Taragi, who lives in the south of Khuza, also confirmed that Israeli gunfire has become more frequent.

The Israeli army shot at two ISM activists and two Palestinian children just in front of them today at approximately 4.30 p.m. as they walked on the road towards the school in the village of Khuza’a, approximately 500 meters from the border. At the time, the area was populated by children and youths, some on foot and others in a cart pulled by a donkey. They were just driving along the road to go home. Without warning of any kind, the Israeli army fired two shots, close enough to the heads of those walking down the street to hear the distinct and strong hiss of the bullets that passed through the air.

Khuza’a is a small farming village and the area around it is not new to raids and attacks by the Israeli army. The school in particular is just a few hundred meters from the border and often children are forced to return home because of gunfire. One village girl lost her kneecap after she was shot by an Israeli bullet as she was walking back home from school. The Israeli army bulldozed the fruit trees in the area ten years ago. Today, Palestinians in Khuza’a cultivate mainly wheat, which requires less attention, so as to avoid being attacked by the Israeli army.

Israeli committed horrific atrocities in Khuza’a during Operation Cast Lead. The majority of the population was forced to leave the village and suffered heavy attacks from white phosphorus. Eight civilians have been deliberately killed in a bombing in the center of the village during the casefire, between them a child. It was in Khuza’a where the Israeli army shot Roya’a Al Najar when she held a white flag while attempting to leave her house after days of siege, and Yasmeen Al Najar and Mahmmod Al Najar while trying to help her.

Do you see that land? That land is mine and I cannot go there

14 May 2011 | International Solidarity Movement, Gaza

On May 8, 9, and 10th the farmers of Khuza’a harvested their wheat. Khuza’a is a village near the Israeli border in the southern Gaza Strip. For three days they visited the fields, starting very early in the morning and picking the fruits of their land. For three days the Israeli occupation forces fired from their automated turret while the farmers continued to harvest their grain. However, they did not allow the Israeli Occupation Force to prevent them from going to their land.

The area where the farmers, along with three international ISM activists and five Palestinian activists traveled to, is about 450 meters from the border. Before the second intifada melons were grown there, along with other fruit trees and olive trees. “We came here to do barbecue, party and relax… the Israeli jeeps used to pass in the distance but did not bother us, they used to leave us in peace.” Ahmed said. Today the trees have been uprooted, the plants destroyed. The only thing that can be grown, because it does not require constant attention, is wheat. But the wheat needs several hours to be collected, and snipers have fun terrorizing the farmers during those hours.

On May 8th in addition to the activists there were eight farmers in the fields, mostly women, but also a child of 13 years and a girl of seven, all brothers and sisters of the AnNajjar family which resides in Khuza’a. They were on 10 dunams of their land, collecting the golden-yellow wheat in bundles and they thought that the presence of activists (foreign and not) could protect them at work, and decided to go farther than usual to collect plants to feed their animals. Where the wheat fields end the land is crossed by sand dunes caused by Israeli bulldozers; here grows thorn bushes and small trees that seem dry, but are a good food for donkeys and sheep. A man bends down to pull up some plants, extends his arm and points his finger at a dune a few tens of meters away, “You see that land? That land is mine and I can not go there.”

From the towers, the Israeli forces are not slow to remember who has the power to decide which land can or can not be farmed by these farmers. We heard the first shots in the air above us just before 9:00. Suddenly and without warning, three bullets landed within 50 meters of the farmers who were working their land. When someone shoots into the air you just hear the shot, but if the bullet is in your direction you can hear the whistle, and the sound of the bullet landing. The soil was sandy, and when the bullets hit, we could see three clouds of dust rise. Close. Too close to a group of nearly 20 civilians who were only harvesting wheat. Some twenty minutes later a man, furious, stopped collecting grass for his animals and said of the other side of the border, where a tractor is plowing a field, “Look, the Israelis can grow undisturbed. However if we go out they shoot at us. ”

On the second day another group, also linked to the extended family AnNajjar, started to collect the grain in a nearby field, which also covers an area of 10 dunam. There were more than 10 farmers intent on collecting the grain and some woman who were collecting grass. But what can they make from 10 dunams of land? Akhmad AnNajjar tries to quantify it: “In the past, we brought home 50-60 bags of wheat, now we are only able to make between 10 and 20: we are unable to take care of the land because we cannot reach it, the amount of grain is much smaller than it was 10 years ago.” From the control tower a shot was heard at around 7:30 and at around 8 o’clock, the motion of the jeeps and tanks across the border were beginning to become constant. On the third day jeeps and tanks continued to move constantly, raising clouds of dust on the land that today is recognized as Israeli. The bullets were not missing either. A man told us: All day they shoot. But when there is presence of internationals they shoot a bit less. ”

Khuza’a is a farming village that is located in the southern Gaza Strip, in the governate of Khan Younis. The center of Khuza’a is located about one kilometer from the border, while about 80% of its arable land (from a total of 2000 dunam) is located in an area where there is a high risk of being hit by Israeli bullets or areas where the Zionist entity has unilaterally denied access, the so-called “buffer zone“. Many dunams cannot be cultivated, and access to some land is completely blocked by the occupation forces. According to a UN report, 35% of all of Gaza’s arable land is in “high risk” areas, and cases of farmers being seriously injured or killed while on their way to cultivate their land are not rare. The poverty line reaches 80 percent, the same for unemployment and the majority of workers who lost their jobs since the beginning of the 2nd Intifada are still jobless. Among the marginalized people are farmers and fishermen who depend on international assistance.

Akmad explains why despite everything, he and his family go there again and again to collect the grain: “We want to eat, and live a normal life. This is our right, this is our land, we will not abandon our fields, even if Israel continues to shoot and try to intimidate us.”

Daily life in Gaza

4 February 2011 | Nathan Stuckey, International Solidarity Movement Gaza

After spending six weeks waiting in Cairo I entered Gaza two weeks ago. I never would have guessed that Egypt would explode so soon after I left. Congratulations to the people of Egypt. The trip from Cairo to the border at Rafah was uneventful; we weren’t stopped at a single military checkpoint. The border was easy, no questions from the Egyptians and the Palestinians only wanted to know where I would be staying, what I would be doing, and how long I would be here. They were very friendly.

Life in Gaza has been a bit surreal so far. On the day I arrived the ISM moved to the new apartments by the harbor. I share a nice two bedroom with a great sun porch with Adie, a British ISMer. The women live upstairs in a rather nicer three bedroom. It is a little strange to live on my own in Palestine, in the past I had always lived with local families. It is in an area with a lot of foreigners. The local stores are relatively well stocked, but everything is quite expensive, so most people really can’t afford to buy anything.

Drones and F16’s can often be heard in the air overhead. Thankfully, since I arrived, there haven’t been any strikes that I know of. Gaza is densely populated but the streets are very quiet. Unemployment is brutally high because of the siege, few imports, and exports are impossible, so you don’t see many cars or people on the street. They don’t have jobs to go to, and they don’t have any money to shop with.

The apartment has a generator, so it took me a few days to realize just how often there is no electricity in Gaza. If you don’t have a generator there is electricity for less than half the day, and you never know when you will have it. As part of the siege on Gaza, Israel limits the amount of electricity supplied to the region, they also bombed Gaza’s power plant during Cast Lead, Israel’s last major assault on Gaza, which further restricts residents from producing their own electricity. Not having electricity when you want it is a real pain; it definitely lowers productivity. Today our landlord came by and said that because the tunnels from Egypt were closed supplies of gas for the generator will be quite limited. No more hot water or refrigerator when the generator is running.

My first task in Gaza was going with Adie to teach the Samouni children English. Many of you have probably heard the story of the Samouni family. During Cast Lead the Israeli army herded the family into a house, and then shelled the house. Ambulances were not permitted to help the wounded. Twenty six members of the Samouni family were killed. You can read a longer account of their story here. The children are really cute and really eager to learn. It really wasn’t until my second visit that I began to notice all that was wrong with the picture. So many of them have missing limbs, disabilities, and massive scars which you don’t immediately notice. Amal, whose name means hope, has recently started failing her classes. She used to be a very good student, but after the massacre she can’t concentrate, she still has shrapnel inside her head. The missing fathers aren’t just away at work, not all of the brothers and sisters you see in family pictures are with us today.

Later that week I visited a family in Khuzzaa. Our guide was a 21 year old university student named Shathem. Her father was recently kidnapped by Israel during an incursion. She lives at home with her mother and sisters. One of her sisters is getting married soon, so the house is a whirl of activity. Khuzzaa is right next to the buffer zone, and Shathem’s family lives on the edge of the village closest to the buffer zone. Israel has declared that no one is allowed to come within 300 meters of the border, this is the buffer zone, violating the buffer zone is likely to get you shot. Of course, the buffer zone is on Palestinian land, not Israeli land, similar to the wall in the West Bank-annexing Palestinian land for “security.”

Unfortunately for the villagers, not only has Israel banned them from going to much of their land, the soldiers are not really a very good judge of distance. 300 meters, 500 meters, one kilometer, apparently all of it looks about the same when you’re looking through the sights of your M16. In Khuzzaa, the school is on the edge of the newly declared buffer zone. The soldiers shoot at the school. We met a young woman who had been shot in the knee on her way to school one morning. Her neighbors have been forced to put giant stone shutters on their windows to stop the soldiers’ bullets from coming into their living room. The town has erected 20 foot tall concrete blocks on the streets that face the border to stop the soldier’s bullets from killing even more people.

Over the weekend we went down to Faraheen to help a farmer who lives by the buffer zone. Most of his land has been lost to the buffer zone. We joined Jabur, his wife Leila, their son, their five daughters, and assorted cousins in planting onions in a field next to the buffer zone. It is easy to forget just how much work farming can be, a full day of crouching while I transplanted onions left me with two very sore legs. All day long the IDF wandered up and down the border with their bulldozers, and giant armored trucks, thankfully they never crossed the border. We had lunch at the house by the onion field that Jabur had to abandon because it was too close to the buffer zone. He has since moved into town, too much shooting at his old house.

Jabur’s wife Leila walks with a pronounced limp. As is far too common, at first I didn’t really notice, then, I assumed that maybe she has arthritis or something. It wasn’t until the second day that I noticed just how severe it was. It turns out that during the first intifada she had come upon some Israeli soldiers beating local children for throwing stones. She tried to intervene to help the children and one of the soldiers shot her in the hip. Hearing Leila’s story I was reminded me of a recent article on one of the first videos to shock people with the brutality of the occupation, you can read the article at Ha’aretz, or watch the video below. I am in constant shock at the number of scars and wounds from the occupation you see here. Often, at first, I don’t notice, then someone moves, or some skin exposed, and the endemic violence of the occupation is in front of you again.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=36r8eSmpGx4

The next day it was raining in the morning, so instead of planting more onions I taught two of Jabur’s daughters English. They were very competitive; they kept trying to distract each other as soon as I asked a question so that they could be the first one to answer it. They study English in school, but there are 43 students in each class, so learning a language is rather difficult, they obviously do not get much time to speak. Their vocabulary and reading skills are quite good though. About noon, the rain stopped, so back to the fields to plant more onions. That evening we came back to Gaza City and home sweet home. Going home was probably a very good idea, because I spend the next couple of days sick.

The buffer zone might not seem like such a big deal, after all 300 meters isn’t very far is it? But 300 meters isn’t really 300 meters, farmers complain that the soldiers shoot at them from even a kilometer away, and anything closer than 500 is quite dangerous, because who knows were exactly 300 meters start, not you, and not the soldier doing the shooting. Gaza is only about 8 kilometers wide, so 500 meters is a significant chunk of land. It is a total disaster for farmers whose land is in the buffer zone. God help those whose homes are next to the buffer zone, or even worse in it.

I think the most surprising thing about Gaza so far has been how liberal it is. The levels of gender-based segregation are much lower than I expected. I am meeting, and talking to young women. This did not happen in the West Bank, and it did not happen much in Syria. I’m sure that part of this is that the families we are in contact with are more liberal than average, but the whole society seems much less conservative than I expected. You see women in the streets, in the stores, working, and in cafes smoking shisha.

Israeli army fire on Gazan farmers and international observers

ISM Gaza

Gazan farmers whose land lies in Israeli defined buffer zone accompanied by international observers have been held down in their field by live gunfire. The Israeli army shot live ammunition for a quarter of an hour after finding the unarmed group fertilizing wheat crops. The international observers loudly informed the soldiers they were unarmed civilians, but the bullets only landed closer. Khuza’a is located 7 kilometers southeast of Khan Yunis. It is about a kilometer from the fence that serves as a border between Israel and Gaza.

According to the UN 30% of the arable land in Gaza is in the buffer zone. The farmers and ISM volunteers who came under fire today were on land that was recently lush with a variety of crops. Over the past few years, the number of crops grown has dwindled to due to the fatal threat posed by the Israeli army. Now, all the farmers can grow is wheat, because it requires less tending. This is affecting the physical health and economic well being of Gazans.

Farmers accompanied by International Solidarity Movement (ISM) volunteers, from Malta, England and Canada, ventured out to the fields surrounding Khuza’a early this morning. The field was peaceful when they arrived, but after fertilizing their wheat crops for twenty minutes, three Israeli army jeeps appeared and began shooting live rounds at the group.

Immediately after coming under fire, the group began shouting that they were unarmed civilians tending to their fields. The bullets were landing 100 meters away but moved progressively closer over the next few minutes until they were five meters away from the group – landing in the dirt and passing above their heads.

After around a quarter of an hour the group retreated ten meters and the shooting stopped. Then a plume of smoke exploded from one of the jeeps, probably from a tear gas canister that back-fired. After the smoke cleared the jeeps drove away, with the international observers clearly hearing Israeli soldiers shout, “We’ll shoot you!”

“These threats were in English. It was a clear warning to the internationals present that they were targeting us. It seems to be a warning for any internationals who dare to come and witness the daily tragedies of life in Palestine. They did not even pretend to be threatened by us, they loafed about in between their successions of rifle fire instead of taking cover,” one ISM volunteer said.