They are not Just Numbers The olives of the earth and the beautiful people of Jannah “This is my mother; I knew her from her hair” such heart-wrenching painful words. A life lost, a child who so intimately loved and knew their parents that even their hair was an identifying factor. A sentence that signifies that this was a loss of more than just a person, it was a loss of hopes, dreams, and an unbreakable bond. A loss of a future that now will never be. A sentence that truly captures the humanity and vulnerability behind it. All those who were lost had someone who knew them just by their hair. Hala abu Saada, a 13-year-old girl who learned sign
Not Just Numbers
language to accompany mute and deaf children. She dreamt
of
becoming
a
journalist,
a
criminal
investigator, or an astronaut.
Mohamed Ajur, a professional programmer who established his own company and dreamed of working internationally to represent Palestine. And 11,000 more humans who had names, dreams, families, and stories. Humans with dreams that were robbed in less than a second. And their “crime” was that they were born on a land that was rightfully theirs. But in remembering the dead, let us also speak of those who are alive. The humanity, tenderness, love, and kindness. A country filled with beautiful people indeed.
Illham Farah was a retired teacher and musician who was a prominent Christian figure, loved by many of her students. Dr. Hamam Al-Louh, a brave doctor and truly a role model to all who refused to leave his patients stating, “if I leave, who will treat my patients?”, killed only a day after making that statement. Assef Abu Malik, a little kid who dreamed of being a football player yet lost a limb due to the Occupation’s bombing.
