Our Heros by Safa Joudah (The Gaza Diary)

Our Heros
by Safa Joudeh (See earlier entries)

The Israeli incursion in, and invasion of the Tal el Hawa neighborhood at the end of my street on Wednesday night and Thursday morning had many devastating consequences, especially given that it is the furthest Israeli incursion into the city so far. Many buildings in Tal el Hawa were raided, many buildings, including mine, were bombed, many civilians were killed, injured or arrested. Thousands of families were forced to flee. Phosphorus bombs rained down on the city and our eyes are still burning from the fumes. The UNRWA headquarters was bombed and the fire caused by the fuel kept burning till the next day.

It was these consequences that Alaa, Palestinian resistance fighters in his late 20’s, was trying to prevent. I will not mention which of the various resistance factions he is affiliated with because that is irrelevant. Alla and his fellow fighters were out in the battle front, facing Israeli aircrafts and tanks with their rudimental weaponry, their bodies and their faith 2 days before the invasion.

Alaa, his parents, his wife and 2 daughters live in my building compound. Alaa’s wife is pregnant with a baby boy. It was her husband’s wish that their unborn child and his young daughters would be given the opportunities he himself was deprived of growing up. He was a doting father and husband, and a favorite of all among the residents in the area. He was especially adored by Haja Na’oom, an old lady who lives alone on the fourth floor. Alaa would buy her groceries, fix anything that needed to be fixed in her apartment, and keep her company on a regular basis.

And so as the attack of the Israeli Occupying forces on Gaza began, Alaa said goodbye to his family and disappeared to join the lines of other fearless young men who had traded in their lives to defend us. In was understood that the risk was high, but that is by no means a deterrent for any of them. Do you understand why we value our resistance so much?

Alaa kept in touch with his family. Calling every night to make sure they were safe and to let them know he was still breathing. The girls stayed up to talk to “baba” (daddy), Alaa’s wife was heartbroken, and his parents were in a constant state of panic

It was a few nights ago that Alaa called his parents to let them know he was in Zatoun, the neighborhood right behind Tel el Hawa, and that witnessed the heaviest bombardment of all. Alla spoke to his mother, and she immediately knew that there was something different about his voice. It was weak, full of emotion…full of pain. Alaa finally told her.

He had been shot in the stomach. He was bleeding, hiding by a wall of some building. His friends had called the Red Cross, but many injured civilians had been waiting all day too, and yet Israel denied the Red Cross entry into Zatoun.

Alaa’s wife and parents stayed up all night, calling him, talking to him on his cell phone and the cell phones of his friends. As the son rose, Alaa’s voice got weaker and weaker. All of a sudden he stopped responding.

His wife shrieked, his parents frantically tried dialing again, and then they got a call from Alaa’s friend. Alaa had died, slowly, quietly and without complaint he had bled to death.

It wasn’t until 4 pm that the ambulance was able to retrieve Alaa’s body. We saw men carrying him up the stairs, as we stood watching at the door of our apartment. His face looked so peaceful, so picturesque, so beautiful. He had died a hero’s death, a martyr, and seeing his face you would understand that without even knowing the full story.

The funeral was held in the outside opening in front of my father’s clinic. The men had taken our permission to hold it there and we were honored.

Today, Alaa is buried, perhaps he’ll live on in our memories for a while, but time dims such memories. For his family, his life, his spirit, his smile, his touch will live on in their thoughts and hearts forever. For the rest of us, he and others have given us a gift, a sense of pride and loyalty, a sense of gratefulness and unbound ability of sacrifice, a sense of connection to each other that surpasses any physical memory no matter how deeply ingrained it is in our minds.