Among its green trees I was born.
On their branches my dad hung my swing.
From its fruit, I ate, and from its corn.
Walking in its fields, I used to sing…
I stopped hearing singing birds
but clashes and bullets.

I stopped seeing flying doves
but warplanes and buzzing drones.
Gaza was, then, besieged…
No life.
No light
but strife, and fight.
I got scared, but my dad taught me this;
"Be a man, be a man, and never less!”
I knew Gaza was always like this,

yet it’s the city we will miss.
I love it, and will always do.
Its soil, its sea, its oil will be free.
Rebirthed it will be and new.
Neither for him nor her, it’s we.
Gaza is not what media tells.

It’s not about battles or fight.
It’s not about bombs or shells.
It’s about asking for my right!

Mohammed Arafat
09-02-2019

In Gaza, we have what makes life worth living. Walking in its narrow streets among its unpainted small buildings means a lot to anyone knowing the meaning of loving their homeland. Greeting the neighbors and friends with Assalamu Alaykom (السلام عليكم) or Sabahul Khair (صباح الخير) or Sabahul Nour (صباح النور) every morning and every evening creates an indescribable and an unimaginable feeling within us. Our mothers telling us تصبح على خير  (goodnight) every night we are about to sleep is just tasty and unforgettable.

Despite the obstacles hitting it, financially or politically, you smell different Palestinian traditional food cooked whenever you walk by any Gaza home. Yummy, how delicious that food is! We smell fried eggs (بيض مقلي) or Hummos (حمص) during breakfast. You smell Maqlouba (مقلوبة), Mujadara (مجدرة) or Musakhan (مسخن) during lunchtime and Shakshukah (شكشوكة) or Falafel (فلافل) during dinner.
You hear kids playing, and engaged couples calling each other on the lower window of the homes hiding from their parents because they are shy. You see elders holding hands going shopping as if they married yesterday. In Gaza, you see true love. Whenever you look at any face, black, white, bronze or brown, you find a hidden innocent smile of a child, an elderly, a woman and a man. We all consider ourselves one. Looking at the buildings of the central Gaza, you can find the history of those who our great great great grandparents lived with. You find mosques and churches built beside each other in peace. You see Muslims and Christians shaking hands and sharing a cup of unsweetened Arab coffee (قهوة سادة) or Silany tea (شاي سيلاني). Sometimes they share a cigarette (سيجارة) or a Sheesha (شيشة) while sitting listening to Om Kalthoum (أم كلثوم) or to Abdul Basset( عبد الباسط عبد الصمد).
Despite the insecurity, you can see Gaza people gather in the streets at midnight during occasions, in the golden clean beach during summer, in malls, shops and cafes during winter. In Gaza, restaurants of Shawerma are full to the fullest. In Gaza, Restaurants of Falafel are everywhere. Shops of Konafeh (كنافة) never close. You can find Arabic Konafeh (كنافة عربية), Nabulseya (كنافة نابلسية), Baklava (بقلاوة) and Osh el-bolbol (عش البلبل).
Despite fear, you can see Gaza youth support Real Madrid and Barcelona at coffee shops or public places just like the rest of the world. Sometimes they support Ahly and Zamalek as well.
In Gaza, people refuse to knee. They refuse to unsmile or unsilenced. In Gaza, people say they want to be free.

Mohammed Arafat
28-01-2019

I start having nightmares before the beginning of any war.
During my sleep, I remember my sisters and brothers,
who played, smiled, loved, and were loved before.
I remembered my mother and the rest of the mothers.

During my sleep, I thought of my school,
the kindergarten and the friends of my niece.
I thought of my swing, my toys and the big pool.
I realized I would miss living free in peace!

The war waged, and I saw what no one has seen.
In front of me, they got ready for the battle.
They brought tanks, guns and an F16.
With hate, they were rushing just like a cattle.

Guns made in East and West pointed at me.
I saw no birds, but warplanes flying over the skies,
bombing, not caring about a he or a she.
I saw blood, felt sorrow and heard cries.

They destroyed my family home,
burnt my books and broke my pen.
They murdered my brother’s spouse,
and threatened to **** me again and again.

Black smokes surrounded me from everywhere.
Big explosions hitting here and there sounded.
Toys broken on the ground, balloons flying in air.
Despair spread, fear planted, hatred rounded.

Despite the war, I raised my hands and prayed,
that I get back to my home where I played,
that peace come and never be delayed,
and that my freedom will never ever fade!

Mohammed Arafat

15-01-2019

The separation wall surrounds me,
It’s everywhere, I even can’t see,
It’s unwanted and very high,
Sometimes I wish I can just fly,
Out of my big jail,
Which made my face so pale,
They separated our land,
Where I really cannot stand,
My family is in the other side,
In the land, which is already occupied,
I want to hug them,
I want to kiss my mother’s hands,
And her feet,
I want to….
I want to see my father,
My nieces and nephews.
It’s a dream, a big dream.

My first love is behind the wall,
Despite it, in love we did fall,
I delayed my wedding for five years,
We longed a lot, and shed tears,
Sometimes I escape the watchtowers,
To hear her voice, and throw some flowers,
Sometimes I try climbing the wall’s stones,
But I fall, breaking my young bones.

We have a very big farm of citrus and fruits,
I missed its trees, the branches and its roots,
My grandfather waits for me since a decade,
To help him watering the plants, which are fade.
I am on one side of the wall, and he is on another,
I have none, and he has my father, mother and brother.

My old friends are stuck as well,
With letters, they tell me their life is hell,
Unsmiling soldiers with helmets are everywhere,
Without permits, I cannot go anywhere,
neither to the old city nor to the capital,
Neither to my family, nor to my beloved.

Mohammed Arafat
31-12-2018

I came from a beautiful place,
Full of trees of olives and oranges,
A running river and golden beach.
From north to south and east to west.
We had our own land,
a spacious house.
animals for food and milk.
I was a poet,
my sister an engineer,
my brother a doctor.
My parents owned a business,
And my mom was pregnant;
she wanted twins,
a boy and a girl.
I loved my country.
We lived in peace.
Until the hatred spread:
of my family,
my religion,
the way we talked.
We were unwanted.
They knocked down the door of my family’s home
and “disappeared” my father and brother.
My mother aborted the twins for whom she hoped.
I tried to protect my sister from ****,
but I couldn’t.
How cowardly I was!
We decided to leave, to flee.
Like thousands, we walked toward a mirage,
a dream of a better life.
My mother could barely walk,
my sister lost in her personal pain.
Only cacti, heat and sun for miles:
We crossed rivers and deserts.
mountains, hills and valleys.
Smugglers awaited us at the border,
demanding thousands to pass to a safe place.
“If you don’t pay, you die!”
What lay ahead we did not know.
But I knew no place could be better
than where I was born.

Mohammed Arafat

my hurting heart loves both sides
all the little children each opinion carries
I long to love them all individually
heal their brokenness at every checkpoint
for a belief is not a label
and a war is not a home
come, let us reason together
let every tongue and tribe make peace
all as one can we fellowship at the table
share our minds and hear the other’s
please, the time has come for peace
too many years of opposition,
too much bloodshed and violence
how many lives is liberation worth?
the freedom of all people,
the hope of all nations.
let peace start in the rising generations,
to ensure that peace will last.

REMEMBER US THIS WAY

I look back on the memories we’ve had sometimes ago
When life was free for every one of us, both young and old
When hiding in dilapidated buildings wasn’t a survival technique
And death was from nature, not a man-made epidemic

When our young ones were free to go to school, grow up and become men who’ll rule
And the dead sons of our land weren’t having their cadavers along the road-path
When our daughters were whole to be married
And not hampered like now as they have to be carried

I’ll look back on the time happiness was never far from our sides
And joy wasn’t gotten from seeing our enemies die
I’ll look back on the building up front
With so many moments had therein, good and bad, all that we hold fond

I’ll remember that fahir was in us too
But now, as soon as the day brings itself new
I’ll see that the brother I’ve had my whole life is gone
To his end of time at the mercy of a ******’s shot

I’ll go to the death-counter, and see another sun’s been decimated
And another light has just been put off
All for what?
The land,
Power,
Money,
Or religion?

Another 12-Year’ld has just been laid to rest
With his mother wailings as the day before yesterday, he laid on her chest,
Promised her “I will grow up, become a feared militant and put the wars to an end”
But, he has just been pushed off of earth

We had holidays
Now only morning days
Yet as the dust fills our faces
We’ll hold on to our faith

For someday, we shall all together, say
“It was all yesterday”
So for this, I’ll always remember us this way!

From a friend that cares,
©Emmiasky Ojex