To the Mothers’ of Gaza

It is quite evident over the past few months as various institutions, organisations, and a few celebrities have come to realize and highlighting the appalling heart wrenching crimes Israel have been committing for over the past 75 years. The families have nowhere to go, the days are passing by, and the voices are equally being diminished by the complicit authorities and through various platforms on one hand. While on the other hand, the people are voicing their opinions more aggressively and strongly in order to put forth their own ‘public’ narrative without any polished version.

The sky of Gaza watches as a spectator the blood and sweat of the women Palestine proudly owns. It’s more than a story of bravery, more than any random dastan for any upcoming generations to take notes from, it’s a legacy of resilience and an art of stubbornness that these mothers of Gaza have been exhibiting for the last 75 years, and counting.

We are well aware of the roles women, particularly mothers play in founding a strong and resilient society. But this Mothers’ day seemed different. The aura felt gloomy as we remember those prolific souls who are ready to more sacrifices than ever for their children and families. Those mothers are dealing with pain and agony more markedly than ever before. Against the current of time, they are holding the last pieces of their dreams together widened in the spirals of hope.

The world was not ready to wake up to witness the sheer bravery of these women against all odds. They share the same bond with their children as any other mother in this whole wide world. They are mothers who have raised stronger generations, spent their time inculcating truths within the crevices of the minds of their children, and built their homes with the same flesh and blood they were born with. The point being what amount of flesh and blood will be enough for the world and Muslim nations to stand with them in their plights?

Yes, a Mothers’ job is never ending, and more so when one has to sleep looking at her kids knowing at the back of her mind that it might be for the last time she is seeing an aura of ignorance and calmness on the face of her infant. Singing a lullaby was beyond any question, the war planes have shattered their image of a normal noise-free air. They have found themselves always on the toes.

A mother would wake up the next day, picking up the remains and pieces of its family left behind, looking miserly at the luggage half gone, more than half misplaced, placing all the dreams, hopes, luggage, and burdens of souls in her cart and there she is….. Ready to migrate in any other part of Gaza wiping her tears off and thinking about her infant crying on her shoulders or about her children she was not able to properly say goodbye too.

Any premature child…deceased.

Any infant…might die.         

Any child….if not already deceased might die.

Any grown up adult…. a mother would not know if he is going to return safely.

Any other who remained might have to live with an amputated limb.

It’s a new normal this cruel world has created for them. The genocide that has been committed by Israel and America and their allies, paving way for the atrocities that are horrible, hideous, and gut-wrenching. If not for trauma, hunger, memories, death, blood, fear….then the scariness of the future that is supposed to be built on the rubbles and dead-remains of the loved one would tear them apart.

Their gift for the day would be watching all their children survive for another day, or watching them eat two more bites from the food sent through aid, whatever and whenever allowed, while they prepare their minds for the excuses to starve for another day.

Can we really talk about the mother of Wissam Hamada, mother of Hind Rajab who is living to mourn her little daughter?

Or about the mother of Sidra Hassouna, who was martyred with her sister and her younger brother?

Or about the mothers of those approximately 13000 children by the UNICEF and UN numbers that have lost their lives in this ongoing massacre?

To the souls that are the torchbearers of perseverance, to the embodiments of strength, to the symbols of hope who try to hide their pain in each breath they exhale.

To the mothers who are living for their children and still sheltering them from the appalling cruelties of Israel, US, and co.

To those we have failed, to those we have ignored, to those we admire, and to those we bow down in a very sorry and crippled state.