The 28th of July marked a special celebration for the Muslim Ummah. It was the day of Eid where Muslims can finally celebrate and eat after fasting for nearly 30 whole days of Ramadan.
However, not everyone could celebrate.
On this joyous day, Israel bombed a park in Gaza where little children were playing and killed most of them. Let's not forget the hospitals, mosques, homes, shops, everything else that they bombed and destroyed. What was this - 'we are not aiming at innocent children' speech?
A few days before Eid, the Assad regime in Syria killed nearly 800 people in the space of two days. We haven't forgotten you Syria.
And the slaughtering of innocent people carried on in different countries.
Central African Republic, Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, Afghanistan, Iraq etc. The never ending list.
However, not everyone could celebrate.
On this joyous day, Israel bombed a park in Gaza where little children were playing and killed most of them. Let's not forget the hospitals, mosques, homes, shops, everything else that they bombed and destroyed. What was this - 'we are not aiming at innocent children' speech?
A few days before Eid, the Assad regime in Syria killed nearly 800 people in the space of two days. We haven't forgotten you Syria.
And the slaughtering of innocent people carried on in different countries.
Central African Republic, Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, Afghanistan, Iraq etc. The never ending list.
I am very fortunate to be living in a city which stays in tact and war doesn't take over. However it is run by Zionists who do not condemn the act of Israel and think that they are infact heroes. Let me correct this. They are the real TERRORISTS!!!
Eid day was joyous for many but the attacks on Gaza were not forgotten for a single minute.
I sat in my room in thought and could hear some kids playing on the street and I decided to write a poem/story about it.
I hope you enjoy it.
I sat in my room in thought and could hear some kids playing on the street and I decided to write a poem/story about it.
I hope you enjoy it.
 |
| (taken from the internet) |
I lean against my bedroom window
Watching the local kids kicking a football on the street
One trips the other over
His team member shouts 'foul'!!!
A small fight breaks out between these boys
But they decide amongst eachother that a free kick can be taken.
I see a mother coming out of her home and I hear her calling for her son.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is a block of flats at the end of my road, and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
They enter the block and depart from eachother when they have reached their door, their home of residence, their shelter, their comfort.
It's Eid.
All these young kids sit around their perfectly round table, perfectly polished cutlery with their perfect families who hide their sorrows behind smiles. Worries and tragedies of family problems sit behind them as they play happy families.
Watching the local kids kicking a football on the street
One trips the other over
His team member shouts 'foul'!!!
A small fight breaks out between these boys
But they decide amongst eachother that a free kick can be taken.
I see a mother coming out of her home and I hear her calling for her son.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is a block of flats at the end of my road, and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
They enter the block and depart from eachother when they have reached their door, their home of residence, their shelter, their comfort.
It's Eid.
All these young kids sit around their perfectly round table, perfectly polished cutlery with their perfect families who hide their sorrows behind smiles. Worries and tragedies of family problems sit behind them as they play happy families.
Change of scene.
I look out through the broken windows of a UNWRA school where I have been taking refuge for the past 2 weeks.
I watch some kids playing football with a piece of rubble from the demolished building near to the school.
One trips over a a rock and the other holds out his hand to help him up. They dust him off and proceed with the game.
The only bit of childhood they can probably have amidst the massacre.
I watch some kids playing football with a piece of rubble from the demolished building near to the school.
One trips over a a rock and the other holds out his hand to help him up. They dust him off and proceed with the game.
The only bit of childhood they can probably have amidst the massacre.
I see a mother coming out of the building opposite and I hear her calling for her son.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is another building not far from the first and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
As they all walk away, a missile comes flying to the ground on which they were playing.
They start running for their lives.
Shrapnel enters the body of one of the brothers fiercely.
Still he runs
As they approach their building they look up.
Their mother screaming
'DONT COME INSIDE. ANA HABEK YA HABIBI. ASHHADU ALLAH ILAHA ILLALLAH'
And before their eyes, the building falls. Shattered to pieces.
Somewhere amongst the rubble lays their mother, their father and their baby sister who they had loved so dearly.
Frightened, they hug one another, wide eyed, not even a single tear.
'Ya Ummi. Ya baba. Ya ukhti. Ya Shaheeds. Allahu Akbar.'
Its Eid.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is another building not far from the first and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
As they all walk away, a missile comes flying to the ground on which they were playing.
They start running for their lives.
Shrapnel enters the body of one of the brothers fiercely.
Still he runs
As they approach their building they look up.
Their mother screaming
'DONT COME INSIDE. ANA HABEK YA HABIBI. ASHHADU ALLAH ILAHA ILLALLAH'
And before their eyes, the building falls. Shattered to pieces.
Somewhere amongst the rubble lays their mother, their father and their baby sister who they had loved so dearly.
Frightened, they hug one another, wide eyed, not even a single tear.
'Ya Ummi. Ya baba. Ya ukhti. Ya Shaheeds. Allahu Akbar.'
Its Eid.
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| In loving memory of the four young boys who were attacked and killed on Gaza Beach by Israeli soldiers. Apparently, they were Hamas's shields. (Taken from the internet) |
By Salma Razia Khatun
Twitter & Instagram - @salmakhatun95
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