For the Desk
of:
His Excellency, Mr Bankimon
The head of the Security Council
USA
From the Desk of:
Mr. Pen
A Gazan Victim
A Palestinian citizen carries the hoarse voice of the
people of Gaza to let the world hear it.
Dear Sir,
Thank you for letting me take just ten minutes from your
precious time. Thank you for allowing me to have the rights to write this
letter for you, your Excellency.
Dear Sir, I don`t know where to begin and even how to
begin writing you this piece of words. I don`t really have enough power to let
my pen write the suitable words for you, your Excellency. Dear sir, I`m a
simple citizen from Gaza, Palestine like anyone lives in this stricken city, if
it`s a city. We have the same pain and the same suffering. We have the same
status and we all are one belongs to our widow mother Palestine.
Dear Sir, I know and everyone knows that we have the
rights to speak up and to seek our stolen freedom. We have the rights to live
like anyone in this world and to find our imprisoned joy. We also have the
rights to breathe clear oxygen and to eat the least food. We have also the
rights to travel and to study like any simple citizen. And those rights, of
course, are called human rights and everyone must have them. So where are those
rights? Sorry sir if I made you angry at me, but that`s because I`m forced to
say that. Forgive me please.
Dear Sir, what shall we do to get our rights? What shall
we do to live like others? Why are we prevented from life? Are we from another
planet called a planet of strangers? Are we slaves? Why is it inevitable to
live under control? All Gazans and I have many whys to ask, but my pen would be
exhausted from mentioning them.
Dear Sir, I used to live, like all the families in Gaza,
with my family in safe and sound under a simple home. Everything was alright
and we were happy enough. But from the beginning of the current brutality on
Gaza, I would never call it a war, I left my home. I left my books and my pens.
I left everything that I used to live with. I left what made me happy . Why
does that happen? Are we terrorists? Are we murderers? I don`t think. Dear sir,
I`m sorry if my words annoyed you, your Excellency, but please let me tell you
what happened with me as a Gazan like what happened with most of the families
here.
Dear Sir, before leaving my home, I have seen what no one
would see or even dream of. I have seen what made me sick for more than a
week. Shall I tell you what I have seen and witnessed? Sorry if you don`t
want to hear, but my pen forces me to mention it.
Dear Sir, I was sleeping in my bed dreaming of my
prospective future, like anyone in Gaza, that I would build. I was dreaming of
getting the master from any great country like USA, UK, Turkey or Malaysia. I
was dreaming of how I will feed my family when I get a suitable job outside
Gaza after lacking the jobs here. That beautiful dream was interrupted by my
mother when she cried out a warning at me in a morning during this aggression”
Wake up dear son and hurry up”. I woke up directly without a though and rushed
towards my window. I slapped my forehead when I saw the massacres in front of
my eyes in our street. The skies were as dark as the moonless night in spite of
it was a day. The atmosphere was full of gunpowder, so that forced me to close
my nose. The black burnt bodies of women and children were spread everywhere in
that desolate street. Women where running without their babies not knowing
whether they would die or live. Elders were creeping like children not finding
anyone to help them. The men with their black faces were looking for their lost
children under rubble. The homes all round my home were destroyed. My attention
got rapt after what I have seen. Suddenly, my dad came quickly and picked me up
and then we rushed towards the stream of the refugees. We began our tiring
journey as others to an unknown safe shelter to stay in.
Sorry dear sir for making you sad, but I just want to
know why that happens to us. Are we animals? If we are animals, I think there
must be institutions for the animals` rights. If we are not animals, so who we
are? Why does that happen? Sometimes I think of making suicide or hurting
myself. I feel that I`m hopeless in this life here in Gaza. I feel that I have
no goals from living this life. Shall I live or die? What shall I do, your
Excellency? Shall I make a suicide or shall I wait? If I want to choose the
second choice, until when shall I wait? What can I do? Please I need your
advice, your Excellency. It`s not just me saying that, but all the families in
Gaza are in the same position of suffering and even more than I suffer.
Dear Sir, I want to know when the innocent Gazans and
will achieve our dreams. Will I get the master in one of the big countries?
will I get a good job? Please advise me and let me know what to do.
Dear Sir, sorry if I stayed too long writing my words.
Sorry for annoying you again, your Excellency. But please let me ask you the
last question that all Gazans wish to hear its answer from you, your
Excellency. Dear Sir, until when will we stay under aggression? When will we
get our least rights? When will we get our human rights? When will we get our
stolen freedom? When will our children get their imprisoned childhood? When
will they smile and live like others?
Finally, I would appreciate you, your Excellency, for
paying your precious attention to my simple letter.
Thank you very much
A bunch of greets from Gaza, Palestine and its people.
Mohammad Arafat Member PYA (Mr. Pen)
No comments:
Post a Comment