When Words are Imprisoned, Thoughts Silenced and Flags Shot Down, Resistance and Solidarity Flourish

My Palestine

One summer day many years ago, I was playing with my siblings and cousins in my grandmother’s tiny garden. Sometimes, when we’re fed up with playing there, we would seek the storeroom nearby. This room, which was constructed a long time ago most probably as a future flat for one of my uncles, was in its structure very similar to the UNRWA rooms in which my grandparents, my aunt’s family, and many others in Dheisheh refugee camp lived. Originally, it consisted of two very wide rooms with a very low ceiling, and a couple of small windows barely letting in any light. The wall between the two rooms was demolished, turning the small “flat” into one large room. My grandparents had enlarged their original UNRWA rooms and used this one as a storeroom. It was full with all sorts of things, from boxes to wood to old chairs. When…

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