THE CHANTS AREN'T SUPPRESSED BY EXPLOSIONS
I have witnessed more hatred than my heart can tolerate. More grief than I can process. I have been exposed to years of pain and suppression in the past few weeks. If I talk about myself. But I can’t. Right now, it’s not important. Right now, it doesn’t matter. Because what I have felt in the past few days, it's not the fraction of what the Palestinians have gone through! The horrors of suppression, the anxiety of losing one’s rightful home, the forever trauma of a troubled history! A war inherited and with it the loss of thousands. It makes me wonder, have we forgotten that a higher power will hold us accountable? Are we forgetting that there is a life after this one? One where we’ll have to answer for every single deed, where you can’t hide the atrocities and can’t justify them with your foreign policies. When Al-Aqsa was attacked, I waited for the thunders to struck and for the earth to crack open and swallow, I waited for the miracle. I cried on the night of the 27th and pray...