
My Homeland
They asked me if I wanted to go back to my country, and I said yes. ‘But you’ll get killed over there,’ they warned. I was only 14 back then, but my intuitive response was,
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They asked me if I wanted to go back to my country, and I said yes. ‘But you’ll get killed over there,’ they warned. I was only 14 back then, but my intuitive response was,
I can still remember the last time I got excited over New Years. There was still an amount of spark within me that hadn’t been killed yet. I’d scold my husband for his lack
Amidst the wreckage and turmoil of this world, I seek refuge in places of comfort. In Gaza, they’re not usually physical places per se, for there’s no safe place here. The Gaza beach may offer
The fishers’ port is like a sleeping beauty. Water is calm. I stand there contemplating its tranquil waters that carry the boats, rocking them gently like a baby’s cot. A peaceful lullaby. Dozens of fishing
They tell me it’s a vast world out there. That if I were to leave this place, I’d see for myself. That the lush green landscapes will stupefy me. That I can drive a car
I’m trying to enjoy solitude as I sit and write away. I’ve kept the windows closed in a desperate attempt to block the noisy bustle outside. That way I can pretend it’s still early morning