Tomorrow, as the Occupied* in Occupia*, we remember November 15th, 1988 to be the date of when Occupia was proclaimed as a state by the Palestinian National Council, thus granting the Occupied an “independence day”. When one looks at Occupia today…oh, the irony.
An airplane flew over my house right now. It’s probably on it’s way to Jordan. Maybe Lebanon. Perhaps it is on it’s way to Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. Once this airplane reaches its final destination, wherever that may be, the people will get off and smell some air.
When this airplane flew over my house, I only thought of the planes that flew over Gaza in 2009-2010. I thought of the planes that will be flying over Gaza tonight and tomorrow and the day after that…and the day after that. For these planes are not the kind of planes one boards on to go on a vacation. These planes that will be soaring over Gaza once more (although, I truly hope they would not) are military planes. And one knows what comes with a military plane. Anger. Impulse. Hurt. Pain. Suffering. War.
I was in eleventh grade when the war on Gaza happened at the end of December of 2009. I remember how I watched Gaza under attack. The images of that one building with the reporters in it. The images of other buildings getting bombed. The images of houses being raided. The images of men, women, and children (oh, the children!) being rushed to the hospitals. The images of white smoke filling the air. (That war not only hurt the people. It hurt the environment). The images of people crying. The images of people dying. For the course of twenty-two days, those images repeated over and over again. Names became numbers on a television screen.
I watched helplessly. I don’t want to repeat it this year. STOP THE WAR ON GAZA! Those words seem to just echo. I don’t want these words to echo. I want the Occupiers to HEAR them. I want Mahmoud Abbas to HEAR them. I want Barack Obama (who a good number of Palestinians voted for) to HEAR them. I want the engines of those planes and those guns to cut and HEAR them. I don’t want these words to echo.
Two more airplanes just flew over my house. I hope their final destination is not Gaza or any place with the intention of commiting war crimes.