Written by Abdul Salam Al-Rimawi
The life of Youssef Al-Zaq, a boy with white skin and blue eyes, was divided between two cells, closed with closed doors and surrounded by walls and barbed wire.
Yousef Mohammed Suleiman Al-Zaq (17 years old), Palestinian in heart and passport, Gazan in love and place of residence, opened his eyes to the world in one of the cells of the "Telmond-HaSharon" prison, which lacks the most basic requirements of human life, and closed them yesterday forever under the rubble of his home on Al-Thawra Street in the center of Gaza City.
His mother, the freed prisoner Fatima Al-Zaq, was in her late forties when she attempted to cross the Beit Hanoun crossing, known as the "Erez crossing," in 2007, for medical treatment. The occupiers arrested her and charged her with "attempting to carry out an attack." She had no idea at the time that she was carrying a baby whose face shone with light.
A few months after her arrest, specifically in 2008, prisoner Fatima al-Zaq gave birth to her son, Yousef, in Telmond Hasharon prison, under extremely harsh conditions. He was the ninth of her children who had not seen her since her arrest, and the youngest prisoner in the occupation's prisons without the slightest guilt or charge.
Infant Yousef al-Zaq spent 20 months with his mother in Israeli prisons, without his young age being a justification for his release, as stipulated in international and humanitarian conventions and child rights. However, they finally found freedom in a partial prisoner exchange deal in October 2009, along with 20 other female prisoners, in exchange for a videotape of the Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit.
Yousef Al-Zaq left his small prison for another, larger one, but one also locked with gates and surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. He lived, like two million other Palestinians, under the longest, most brutal, and most brutal siege, and a series of wars that each time left more victims and more destruction. I don't think he knew any place in this vast world other than Gaza and its sea.
Yesterday morning, the apartment of Mohammed al-Zaq's family was targeted by a missile fired from an Israeli drone, just like those that lie in wait for people in the ruins of their homes, in tents, in shelters, and outside aid distribution points. The missile killed his son, Youssef.
The martyr's mother, freed prisoner Fatima Al-Zaq, hugged her little boy, who had grown up faster than she could have imagined, for the last time, bidding him farewell with tears and sorrow, as if he were her only son. What memories flashed before her eyes as she saw her heart laid out before her?
She must have returned to that miserable cell where she had her little moon. Perhaps she could recall his first laughter and the joy of his fellow captives as if he were one of their sons. Perhaps she remembered the moment when she and her little one saw the light of freedom that did not take long, and the joy of his brothers and father when they hugged him for the first time. Perhaps she could recall all those days he lived at home, in kindergarten, and at school, and even those harsh times in this damned war and the fear, pain, hunger, and overwhelming desire to survive they endured...
Youssef Al-Zaq was born a prisoner, lived under siege, and died a martyr.
שתף את דעתך
Youssef Al-Zaq was born a prisoner and died a martyr