Tag: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

9 January 2009 – The Abu Oda family

9 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“The Israeli military say they are the most moral army in the world, but they killed my daughter, they didn’t respect her right to live”

I’tidal and Ahmed Abu Oda with a picture of their daughter Nariman Abu Oda (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 9 January 2009, the Abu Oda household in the Al Amal neighbourhood of Beit Hanoun came under sustained fire from Israeli positions close to the Gaza-Israeli border 2 kilometres away. Nariman Abu Oda, 16, was hit in the right side of her body by Israeli fire as she was walking from the hallway, where the family were taking cover, to the kitchen. Medics were unable to reach the family and Nariman died before she could receive medical attention.

The pockmarked concrete walls of the Abu Oda household tell a good deal of the story of Nariman’s death. Despite the best efforts of father Ahmed Abdel Kareem Muhammad, 57, and mother, I’tidal Abd al Aziz, 53, to plaster over the patch work of holes and indentations in the walls, ceiling, floors and doors, the house remains riddled with bullet holes. As I’tidal explains “it is clear the shooting was completely indiscriminate.”

Nariman’s mother and father keep returning to the question, why did this happen? For them, it is not an empty rhetorical question, but one that holds a great deal of weight and a great deal of their concern. “Why my daughter? What were their motives? What were their reasons?” asks Ahmed. “The Israeli military say they are the most moral army in the world, but they killed my daughter, they didn’t respect her right to live.”

The Abu Oda family find themselves caught in a deep state of mourning regarding Nariman’s absence, yet at the same time feel her constant presence. Recalling that Nariman used to make him his coffee in the morning, Ahmed says that, he still absentmindedly calls for Nariman when he wants coffee or tea. “Her room is still exactly as she left it three years ago, with everything still in its place.” Despite this, the family are desperately seeking to move; “we do not want to live in the house that Nariman was killed in,” says Ahmed. Adding to the sense of presence Nariman has in the house, I’tidal and Ahmed’s children Shadi, 34, Abdel Kareem, 32, and Sahar, 30, have all since had daughters whom they named Nariman, in the memory of their younger sister.

I’tidal was deeply affected physically and mentally by the loss of her daughter who used to help her a lot with daily household chores. “When I see young girls going to school I imagine her with them, I see her in every room of the house, I will never forget her. After the incident I was admitted to the hospital for ten days due to shock” recalls I’tidal, “since then I have suffered from huge physical problems resulting from stress.” I’tidal has health complications relating to blood pressure, heart disease and diabetes.

The family did not only lose Nariman during the Israeli offensive, but also their livelihood. The family had a citrus grove and a poultry farm that were totally destroyed during the attack and have another farm that they cannot reach due to its proximity to the Israeli imposed buffer zone. The family have recently planted seedlings in one of the destroyed farms again but are still waiting to harvest them. However, the loss of income from the farms is mentioned merely as an afterthought to the loss of Nariman. “We care nothing for the loss of our land compared to the loss of our daughter” says Ahmed.

Speaking of the future the couple are desperately seeking answers and demand accountability. “I don’t expect the case to be successful, they will change the facts, the only thing I want is to address the soldier who killed my daughter” says Ahmed. “But I hope one day that we can reach peace with the Israeli’s and end the war and the killing.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the Abu Oda Family on 30 August 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

8 January 2009: The Al-Rahel family

8 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“The other children keep talking about Dima and the memories of both incidents. ‘We wish to die like Dima’ is what the children sometimes say to me because of all the stress and our poor living conditions.”

Saeed and Nisreen al-Rahel with their children Dina, Sunia, Ansam, Anas and Ali. (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 8 January 2009, at approximately 11:00, four missiles were fired at the house of Juma’a al-Rahel (45) in Beit Lahiya, injuring 3 members of the extended al-Rahel family: Basma (3), Dima (5), and Faten (41). Many of the extended family were inside the house at the time of the attack, as six of the al-Rahel brothers and their wives and children live nearby. Immediately after the attack, the families fled the area and sought refuge in Beit Lahiya’s UNRWA school. On 17 January 2009 the school was targeted with white phosphorus bombs, leaving Dima’s sister, Ansam al-Rahel (13), severely injured. After six weeks of fighting for her life 5-year old Dima eventually died of her wounds in an Egyptian hospital on 1 March 2009.

Saeed al-Rahel (35), the father of Dima and Ansam, remembers the day of the first attack vividly. “I was at home when an explosion took place and all the windows were broken. I got out of the house. I heard people screaming in the house of my brother Juma’a, nextdoor. My daughter Dima was there and I heard people screaming that she was wounded. Several more missiles struck Juma’a’s house and we fled from the area. Dima was taken to hospital. On 13 January she was transferred to Egypt. I went with her.”

Saeed’s wife, Nisreen al-Rahel (33), and their other children, Sunia (17), Dina (15), Ansam (13), Ahmad (11), Mohammed (6), and Ali (4), stayed in the UNRWA school in Beit Lahiya after the attack. Nisreen recalls: “we stayed in the school building from 8 to 17 January. It was winter and very cold. We didn’t have any mattresses. We had to use blankets as mattresses and it was very difficult, especially for the children. We didn’t have enough food. We also had to ask other people to give us water. There was no clean water.”

On 17 January 2009 the Israeli army bombed the school building with white phosphorus shells. “Experiencing the attack on the school was more difficult for me than the attack on the house. At the moment that the bombing of the school started I was in a classroom with my children. The bombing started around 5:00am and it was dark. I heard Ansam cry ‘I am wounded in my head’. The firing of bombs was very intensive.” Ansam was severely injured in the head, she lost her hair in the place of the injury and the scars get infected from time to time as parts of her skull are missing. “She is still suffering because of her injuries. At school she loses consciousness when she is active,” say Nisreen.

Saeed remembers the moment he found out about the bombing of the school: “Before I went to Egypt I stayed in that same classroom with my family. I saw the attack on the television when I was in Egypt and I recognized the classroom. There was blood on the floor. When I called to my family, no one wanted to tell me how my daughter Ansam was doing.”

When Nisreen and her remaining children moved back to their house after the offensive they found it badly damaged and their livelihood destroyed. “Shortly before the war I bought cattle. We had 2 oxen, 17 goats and dozens of rabbits. I kept them next to our house. I took out loans to buy them,” explains Saeed. “When our family returned to our house after the war they found all the animals killed by shrapnel. Only one goat was still alive but he also died after a few days. Now I am stuck with many loans. I can barely provide for the treatment of my daughter Ansam. I was even arrested by the police because I cannot pay back my loans to people. With a complete lack of money I am also not able to repair the severe damage that was done to the windows and walls of our house.” Cardboard and blankets serve to protect the family from the nightly and winter cold.

The events of January 2009 have had a profound impact on the psychological wellbeing of the Saeed, Nisreen, and their children. “It has been very difficult for me because I lost one of my daughters and another one was badly injured. I remember Dima when I see girls going to school,” says Nisreen. “The other children keep talking about Dima and the memories of both incidents. ‘We wish to die like Dima’ is what the children sometimes say to me because of all the stress and our poor living conditions.”

Saeed noticed changes in his children too. “Ansam holds a lot of anxiety and stress since the war. One time I called her and she started screaming and threw a plate at me, screaming to leave her alone. I am her father and she is afraid of me.” Nisreen adds: “Ahmad’s scores were badly affected after the war. He used to be an excellent student. Now he even has problems in reading. He also suffers from bedwetting.”

Fear seems to have become a part of daily life for the family. ”The children, like me, are always afraid when they hear drones or firing. When we hear it, we all sit in a single room,” says Nisreen. The fear of another attack is never far from Saeed’s thoughts either: “I am afraid that another war will come. When people talk about it I feel afraid. When I hear drones in the area, I leave the house. I get afraid that they will target us again.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Rahel family on 9 September 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

7 January 2009 – The Mattar family

7 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“It would be great if someone could take me to the dessert and leave me there, that way I wouldn’t have to see people”

Mahmoud Mattar (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

At around 09:30 on 7 January 2009, Israeli forces targeted the al-Taqwa Mosque in the Sheikh Radwan district of Gaza City. The mosque was 150 metres from the home of Mahmoud Mattar, who was 14 at the time. Having run to the scene of the attack, Mahmoud was present when two further strikes hit the area, killing two 15 year old boys, including one of Mahmoud’s school friends. Mahmoud was thrown unconscious and suffered severe burns and shrapnel wounds. He has been left totally blind as a result.

Mahmoud tells of the changes in his life since the attack: “I used to go by myself to the sea. I was independent. Now I need someone to go with me everywhere I go. I go out maybe once every two or three months, I spend my days inside.” Mahmoud’s self awareness of his injuries means he is now afraid to go out and be amongst people. “I don’t want to go out due to the comments I get from children. Anytime I do I cover my face with my clothes and dark glasses”, says Mahmoud. “The glasses broke yesterday.”

His isolation has left him with a bleak outlook on life. “It would be great if someone could take me to the dessert and leave me there, that way I wouldn’t have to see people.”

The emotional and physical scars of 7 January 2009 have taken their toll on Mahmoud. Keeping his head lowered into his chest and pausing to catch his breath as a result of breathing problems related to transplanted bone matter in his nose, Mahmoud says he is not the young man who spoke with such optimism for the future, in spite of his injuries, three years ago. “When I was in Egypt for medical treatment and when I got back to Gaza everything was calm and people were so supportive of me. But things changed, people started fighting and it’s always noisy. The change you see is out of my hands.”

Mahmoud has been left anxious and short tempered. “I have become very nervous since the attack. If someone is kidding with me I will try to hit them with anything at hand,” says Mahmoud. His anger has resulted in problems in school, for which he was suspended for a year. “As a result of my rushed reaction to incidents there are problems between me and the teachers as well as other students.”

Mahmoud has also had to adapt to the new challenges he faces, including learning brail, which took him a year of dedicated study.  Mahmoud was in Grade 9 at the time of the attack three years ago, he is now in Grade 10.

Mahmoud’s anxiety complicates his family life with his parents and siblings as well as his school life. “Mahmoud is a good guy,” says his father Hani, “but he can be problematic, including being violent with me. But I understand, I am patient with him.” His mother Randa, 38 adds; “he can be very destructive, including taking his anger out physically on the home or his little brother.”

Speaking of the future, Mahmoud says: “before the attack I played lots of sport and I had wanted to be a PE teacher or to open a sports club. But all these hopes are destroyed. Now my only wish is to leave my formal education and focus on my religion and learn the Koran”.

Mahmoud hopes to eventually receive surgery to clear his breathing, as well as reconstructive plastic surgery, which he says has been promised to him by many charity organisations, all of whom have failed to deliver; “If I could get the surgery I would be more comfortable amongst people.”

Like any young man, he also has dreams to be married, but his parents say there is no room in the house for another young family.

Mahmoud is dismissive regarding the prospect of justice before Israeli courts. “I don’t expect the case to be successful. The Israeli’s are liars; they attack children and are careless in what they target.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of Mahmoud Mattar on 30 December 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

The series of narratives:

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

6 January 2009: Al-Dayah family

6 January 2012 | Palestinian Centre for Human Rights

“The bodies of nine of those killed were not found, including the bodies of my wife and my children. I tried my best with the civil defense personnel to find their bodies. All we found were pieces of flesh that were unidentifiable.”

Mohammed al-Dayah (31) with his daughter Qamar (1.5) (Photo: Palestinian Centre for Human Rights)

On 6 January 2009, at approximately 05:45, an Israeli aircraft bombed the al-Dayah family in the Zeitoun neighborhood of Gaza City. 22 people, including 12 children and a pregnant woman, were killed. Only one of the family members inside the house at the time of the attack, Amer al-Dayah (31), survived. Amer, two brothers who had not yet returned home from Morning Prayer at a nearby mosque, and two sisters who live elsewhere with their husbands and children are the only surviving members of the al-Dayah family.

Mohammed al-Dayah (31) recalls the day of the attack: “after I finished praying, I stood beside the mosque, talking to our neighbor, waiting for the sound of the airplanes and bombardments in the area to decrease. Then I heard a very powerful explosion. Shrapnel landed where I was standing. I immediately rushed home. When I reached it, I only found a pile of rubble. I began screaming and calling out for members of my family, but there was no reply. They were all under the rubble. Dead.”

Mohammed was not able to bury his wife Tezal (28), daughters Amani (6), Qamar (5), Arij (3) or his son Yousef (2). “The bodies of nine of those killed were not found, including the bodies of my wife and my children. I tried my best with the civil defense personnel to find their bodies. All we found were pieces of flesh that were unidentifiable,” he says. Tazal was 8 months pregnant with a boy when she was killed.

“At the moment I cannot imagine ever being happy again, or celebrating a happy occasion. It reminds me of the old life I used to have with my family. Before, I used to go to many parties. I always danced dabke, together with my extended family in Zeitoun. I led the dancing. Whenever we had a chance to celebrate, we would. Now I cannot bear the sound of party music, of celebrations. It makes me too sad. Whenever there is a party in the neighborhood, I have to leave the house and go somewhere else,” says Mohammed. The holidays are the most difficult time of the year for him: “during Ramadan and the Eid holidays I suffer and think of them even more than usual.”

His brother ‘Amer pushed Mohammed to remarry. “At first I didn’t want to but I was alone and I had to somehow rebuild a life,” says Mohammed.  Now Mohammed is remarried and has two daughters, Amani (4 months) and Qamar (1.5 years old), both named after his daughters who died in the attack. “I didn’t make a party when I remarried. Neither did my brothers for their weddings. We simply do not feel like celebrating anything.”

Mohammed works as an electrician with the Ministry of Health, but has had difficulties at his work since he lost his family. “I am not able to sleep at night. The night time is the most difficult part of the day for me as I cannot fall asleep. I have tried everything. Even medicine, but that only made me dizzy. So, at night I just stay up and keep myself busy; eating, taking a walk, sitting in the cemetery, going for a run. Only after sunrise I fall asleep for a few hours, exhausted. Then, how can I go to work in time? I can’t. My boss has given me 10 warnings so far but at the same time I know that he understands and has sympathy for my situation.”

The three brothers rebuilt a house on the same place as the old building. All three of them insisted to return to the same location. “It is where we grew up,” says Mohammed. “The Ministry of Works assisted us in constructing the base and first floor of the house, but the bomb left a seven meter deep hole under the building which affected the foundation and ground water. It took us 3 months to fix the water problem, before we could even start construction of a new building.” However, Mohammed still notices that there are problems with the foundation of the building. “Every time there is a bombing, I feel the house move. It wasn’t like that before. The house is not steady. The base was destroyed by the bomb.”

As Mohammed tries to rebuild a life and a future, he has no hopes that he will see those responsible for the death of his family being held accountable. “I expect nothing from Israeli Courts. They [Israel] prepare a plan and justification first and then carry out their attack. The war crimes are justified before being committed. Crimes could happen anytime again.”

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

5 January 2009: Amal al-Samouni

5 January 2012 | Palestinian Center for Human Rights

“I have constant pain in my head, eyes and ears. I have been having nose bleeds for the past three years. I can still feel the shrapnel move inside my brain”

Amal al-Samouni (11) sitting in front of her house in Zeitoun neighborhood (Photo: Palestinian Center for Human Rights)

On 4 January 2009 at around 6:00 Israeli forces surrounded the house where Amal al-Samouni (11) and 18 members of her extended family were sheltering, in Zeitoun neighborhood east of Gaza City. Israeli soldiers ordered the owner of the house, Amal’s father Attia al-Samouni (37), to step outside with his hands up. Upon opening the door he was immediately killed by shots to the head and chest. Soldiers then started firing bullets into the house, killing Amal’s 4-year old brother Ahmad al-Samouni and injuring at least 4 other people, of whom 2 were children.

Over the following hours, soldiers ordered over 100 other members of the extended al-Samouni family into the house of Wa’el Fares Hamdi al-Samouni, Amal’s uncle. On 5 January 2009 Israeli forces directly targeted the house and its vicinity, killing 21 persons and injuring many others. Amal, who was inside, was wounded by shrapnel to the head and buried under the rubble, lying between injured, dying and deceased relatives. On 7 January ambulance personnel, who were prevented from entering the area until then, evacuated her to hospital.

Between 4-7 January 2009, 27 members of the Samouni family were killed, including 11 children and 6 women, and 35 others were injured, including Amal’s twin brother Abdallah.

Amal survived those 4 horrific days but is left with permanent injuries and trauma. “I remember my brother and father and how they were murdered in every moment,” says Amal as she thinks back on the attacks and the three days she spent buried under the rubble of her uncle’s house without food or water. Amal does not need a lot of words to express how she feels: “before, we used to live together as a happy family. Now I don’t feel happy anymore.”

Amal did not only lose her father; the family’s home was also destroyed by the army. “For one year we lived with the parents of my mother, in Gaza’s Shaja’iya neighborhood. Then we lived in a storage room for 1.5 years. It didn’t have a floor. There was just sand. Since 6 months we are living where our old house used to be. It is not even half the size of our old home. I didn’t want to return to our neighborhood because of what happened. My family didn’t want to either but we had no choice.” Like many other members of the al-Samouni family, Amal’s household now receives some help from relatives living in their neighborhood, but is still struggling to manage financially. The living conditions of Amal and her family have somewhat improved over time, although the house still lacks equipment like a refrigerator, washing machine, and a closet for the children’s clothing. Amal’s father, Attia, was a farmer. He grew vegetable crops on a rented plot, which used to provide the family income.

As the reconstruction of life and livelihoods continues in the al-Samouni neighborhood, Amal continues to struggle with her injuries. The pieces of shrapnel embedded in her brain cause her severe pains. “I have constant pain in my head, eyes and ears. I have been having nose bleeds for the past three years. I can still feel the shrapnel move inside my brain,” she says. Local doctors say it would be too dangerous to remove the pieces, but Amal cannot accept this quite yet. She has a strong wish to travel abroad to see a doctor. “I want to be sure about my situation and have another doctor look at my situation. I want to try everything possible to end my problem and pain. Other children are sometimes able to travel for fun. My wish is serious; I won’t travel for amusement but for medical treatment.”

The continuous pain has a profound impact on Amal’s mood, her relationship with her siblings, and her performance in school. “When I have a lot of pain I become nervous and angry.” Her mother Zeinat (38) adds that “she then easily becomes angry with her younger siblings and beats them. Recently she and I visited a hospital again to see how she could be helped. The doctor prescribed tramal [a sedative] but I will not allow her to take medicine like that.”

“When I am sad I go to my aunt’s house to see my cousins, or I prepare my books for school,” says Amal. “Before the war I was excellent in school. Now my scores are not so good anymore.” While speaking of her dropped scores Amal becomes very emotional. The teacher told her mother that Amal is not able to focus in class. This semester Amal failed two subjects. “I have pain in my eyes when I look at the blackboard,” Amal says, very upset. Despite her difficulties in school, Amal knows what she would like to study for: “when I am older I want to become a pediatrician and help to treat wounded people.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Samouni family on 8 May 2009. To-date, only an interlocutory response has been received, noting receipt of the complaint. Despite repeated requests, no further information has been received.

The series of narratives:

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