Separating and segregating families and restricting entry into neighbourhoods with the use of residence numbers are ways the occupation tries to break the core of the oppressed: the family unit. This is not a new experience for the oppressed. Jews went through this during the Holocaust, Indigenous people experienced it with residence schools, and now, Palestinians are living under the occupation. History is full of stories of children taken away from their families and of families torn apart.
In Palestinian society, where the community is organized around the collective, the family unit is the extended cornerstone of community resilience. It comes as no surprise that the Israeli occupation since 1948 was determined to break these family ties through expulsions, killings, home demolitions and arrests.
Since October 2023, over 7,350 Palestinians who live in the occupied West Bank have been arrested, according to the Addameer Monitor in Ramallah. This is a drastic rise compared to the preceding years.
The following is the story of a friend whose brothers have been under arrest since November 18, 2023, and how their detention has affected her family.
“We as a family were scared as soon as the Israeli military started to randomly arrest people after October 7, 2023. My brothers are in their twenties, so of course, they are among the targeted group. Our fear was legit; they were arrested, and my dad’s response was, “It is the price we pay for the country.”
A week passed, and we didn’t know where they were. It was a great relief when we located them ten days later. Through the news, we learned that prisoners are usually hungry – each of our family members imagined what that would feel like.
Our parents tried to hide their fear and sadness, but their eyes said everything; words were not needed.
After months of trying, the lawyers were able to talk to them. They told us they both were well. For a period, they were in the same prison but not in the same cell; they would talk to each other through a door. This small news was a light and a relief for us.
A year has passed, and none of us have managed to see or hug them. During this year, my grandma and uncle died. We haven’t told them yet; we’re wondering how to tell them.
Hearing my dad pray to see them before he dies is the saddest plea a daughter can listen to. It makes me feel helpless.
A letter came from one of the brothers. He wrote that he is good but suffering from scabies. My parents cried but said, “Thanks be to God for everything.”
My sister wrote, “Feeling guilty about ordinary things is part of Israel’s war being waged on us.”
This is her poem.
Before “Israel” arrested my brothers, I argued with my brothers about ordinary things
such as their ignorance
they seem very silly and meaningless now
we argued
this is what siblings do
now, I am consumed with regret for the message
I deliberately ignored and did not respond.
Since their arrest, their bedrooms have been tidy
this is ugly
in a life without occupation
three months might pass without us even
feeling or caring about how many times we met
but now time passes
and hunger fills the prison
cold fills the prison
beatings fill the prison
and I cannot apologize to my brother!
It’s been a year without them, and what a year
a year, and what a year
my father planted many roses in the garden at home
as he does at the beginning of every spring
the garden is full of colour
but our hearts are dull.
The outside door of the house is intact
a rotten lock, twisted iron
and a chain connecting the two parts
and black spots on the stairs
marks of the door being blown up by
the Israelis
A year has passed
the scene of your arrest still looks cinematic
and your absence from home seems like that too.
