The least that can be said is that the images of mothers heartbroken by the loss of their beloved children alone tell of the magnitude of the pain that shakes the hearts of the patient and resilient; for there is nothing more painful than losing the essence of souls and the fruits of hearts. How much more so if this loss occurs in a month when hearts gather at sunset on one ground? So, the one who used to bring joy and happiness to souls is absent from the table, and the one who was waiting for the call to prayer to quench his hunger with a sip of water or a piece of bread.The mother's wailing at the farewell of her son, "Muhannad Al-Najjar" (14 years old), who died on the first day of Ramadan while he was gathering firewood to prepare Iftar food, shakes the soul and shatters the conscience. Muhannad, who went out to look for firewood to light the pot for his hungry family, ignited a fire in his mother's heart that the sea waters cannot extinguish.The daily killing has not stopped, even if its forms have changed; death resides in every corner: the death of patients whose medicine has run out, and the wounded whose travel has been delayed at crossings restricted by "chains of slowness," or by pouring lava on the heads of those sleeping in tents, under the pretext of assassinating a wanted person who happened to pass by. It is "slow genocide"; practiced by the occupiers with cold blood, and they hunt their victims with sniper bullets as they hunt game, without any conscience or fear of law.In Gaza, Ramadan is not measured by the number of fasting hours, but by the number of raids on homes and tents and bullets, which are fired from behind brightly colored bunkers and lines, penetrating the bodies of those seeking life, so sunset there becomes synonymous with the absence of loved ones.Muhannad left, and the firewood remained mixed with tears of pain, and the table still lacked his laughter, his calm and his boisterousness, so "sunset" in Gaza transformed from a moment in the presence of tranquility to a moment in the presence of absence.
שתף את דעתך
The pain of loss in Ramadan!