8 / Waiting for the Curtain to Rise

IN 1976, Nasser was already studying medicine in Alexandria. Also in that year, Ibrahim was given ten university seats to be allocated, at his discretion, to deserving Palestinian students who did not meet the high admission requirements, or whose social and economic circumstances were such that it was vital for them to get a university education and hence a better future for themselves and their families. Ibrahim allocated the ten seats according to the criteria and based on his knowledge of the potential candidates and their families’ circumstances. Two examples from that group of ten students stand out. One was a top student who had obtained very high marks and whose sole ambition was to study medicine, but his marks were not high enough to get him into medical school. He is now a well-known physician working as a department head in Gaza’s Al-Shifa Hospital. The other candidate wanted to study law, but his marks did not meet the cut. Ibrahim gave him the last available seat because nobody in his family had ever gone to university, and his family was still mourning the recent death of his oldest brother who drowned in the sea. He is now a successful lawyer in Gaza.

In that same year, Nawaf got accepted to study at the school of business, but his heart was set on studying engineering. He pleaded with his father to allocate one of the available engineering seats to him, but Ibrahim refused and went on to award the seats to deserving students rather than to his own son. Ibrahim is a very good man with a heart of gold and a loving father who wants the best for his children, but his principles and his sense of public duty would not allow him to award a university seat to his son at the expense of a more deserving student. Nawaf took the option of repeating the school year in order to improve his marks, and he was eventually accepted in September 1977 into the Engineering Department at the University of Alexandria.

Madeeha Hafez Albatta on a trip to Egypt in 1980. The photos were taken in Alexandria. Photo courtesy of Madeeha’s family.

While Nawaf and Nasser studied in Alexandria, they lived in an apartment with Moeen. An American exchange student named Mary lived in the same building, and Moeen got to know her and invited her to meals and occasions organized by the Palestinian student council to raise the awareness of foreign students about the Palestinian cause. Over time, Moeen and Mary fell in love with each other, and Moeen told me that he wanted to marry her. I said that it was his decision, not mine. He wanted to meet her family in America, and we agreed that if he passed his exams, I would help him by giving him the money to visit them, so in 1978 he passed his exams and met her family. The family liked him, and he and Mary got engaged. The same year, I went to Mecca to perform pilgrimage and while I was there, my sister phoned me from Riyadh and congratulated me on Moeen’s marriage. I told her that he and Mary were only engaged, but she said she had spoken to him two days before in Alexandria and they had been married there. I thought she was mistaken. When I returned to Gaza, friends welcomed me, and one of them, whose daughter was studying with Moeen in Alexandria, congratulated me on his marriage and said the wedding party had been very nice. When I heard this the second time, I felt it must be true, so I phoned Moeen and he confirmed it. While this was a surprise to me, I understood their rationale. They were young, in love, and freshly out of university, and on top of that they did not want to stress us financially. Although he is our third son, Moeen was the first to marry. In 1979, they travelled to America to have their son Ibrahim, and returned to Cairo while I was there, so I organized a party for my new grandson. In 1981, after Moeen graduated and finished his training year in Egypt, they went to Mary’s hometown of Buffalo, New York, near the border with Canada. Moeen trained in hospitals for four years there before he was licenced to practice medicine; during this time, he was supported by his uncle. He is now a gynaecologist/obstetrician at the Buffalo university and teaching hospital. They have three children, and he sends me money every month.

Fawaz finished high school in Egypt, and in 1971, he obtained a scholarship to study law in East Germany, where he completed his bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, and a PHD. When he had finished his master’s degree, he returned to Gaza and registered at a lawyer’s office for training, and at the same time was offered a scholarship for his PHD. At first, he refused the scholarship and when we asked why, he told us that he had a girlfriend named Anke and that they were in love with each other. He said that if he returned, he might marry her. Now, since Moeen had married an American woman, Fawaz thought that we might be unhappy if he too did not marry a Palestinian woman, but instead married a German woman. I told him that Anke’s nationality didn’t matter, and the most important thing was her manners. He said that she was a very good and very clever young woman. I told him, “How could it come into your mind that we might disagree with you marrying a German? Aren’t you afraid that in the future your own daughter might go abroad to study and meet somebody who might leave her because she is an Arab and do the same thing that you are doing to this girl? I believe that whatever you do, good or bad will happen to you, so go, start your studies, and marry this girl you love and who loves you.” Fawaz travelled to Germany, and we followed a month later, taking many symbolic Palestinian gifts. We met her family and celebrated their wedding, where she wore a Palestinian tawb I had brought as a gift. Fawaz and Anke now have three children.

In 1979, Ibrahim had an idea to help unemployed university and college graduates who were also registered refugees. The families of these graduates would have spent all their savings to put them through higher education and would be eager for them to start working to support their families, and, in turn, pay for the higher education of their younger siblings. These graduates couldn’t get jobs in rich Arab oil countries because they did not have the necessary work experience. Ibrahim wanted to help them and their families. He proposed to the PLO that it start a program to pay for the salaries of two hundred graduates to be employed by the UNRWA every year, and his proposal was accepted. Then he spoke to the UNRWA, which adopted this initiative and began to give graduates work in different fields in the Gaza Strip for two years before replacing them with the next group. The project continued, with the PLO paying the graduates’ salaries through Cyprus, from 1979 until the establishment of the Palestinian National Authority in the Palestinian territories in 1994. During that period, Ibrahim acted as a liaison between the UNRWA and the PLO; he contacted them when money arrived and worked with different areas of refugee affairs. It was known as the Abu Sitta Project for Refugees.

Ibrahim had worked with the PLO without a salary, and at the beginning of the 1980s, one of the PLO members spoke up on his behalf about this. He hadn’t returned to work under the Israeli administration after resigning from the PLO and had never taken any money from the PLO for his work, and thus he deserved compensation. So, the PLO office agreed to give him a pension every month, and this still continues to come.

I love Ibrahim. I love his strength, courage, fairness, and patience. He is the light of my life, so I try to make him happy, and when we are together, I feel that we are the happiest couple in the world. He always tells me that he likes to see my face first thing in the morning because I wake up smiling, and I am never sad or angry like some people. Many people have asked me why I don’t look my age, and I always tell them it is my strong belief, trust, and faith in God. I am also an easy-going person who doesn’t cause any problems for others that could stay on my conscience and keep me awake at night. I have been through many difficulties in my life: losing my mother and brothers, marrying a political figure who was always engaged in public duties, and raising young sons during wars, and Israeli occupation. I thank God that I was able to raise my children and save them from the brutality of the military occupation. I also took care of my health because when I lost my mother, I had to take care of myself. As a child and later in my life, I drank milk and juice and ate good food and exercised.

I was good with Ibrahim’s family. I love them because they are very good to everyone and to me. I loved my mother-in-law, who died when she was one hundred and five years old. She was very good, generous, honest, and religious, and never ever turned away anyone in need. She always gave and was always smiling. When her son, Abdallah, was killed in Jordan during Black September and women cried and shouted in loud voices, she told them to calm down because it was God’s choice and that what they were doing was unacceptable. God gave her patience and she accepted the news as a believer in God’s choice.

Once, in 1983, when she was ninety-five years old, we visited her, and when we were about to leave, I heard her calling me. She held my hand and said, “God bless you, Madeeha.” Then she repeated this, and said, “God bless your children and your husband, and your health and money.” I asked her to pray for Nasser, who was then doing an exam in Egypt through the American Embassy, and if he succeeded, he would continue his higher education in America. She told me to go and that he would pass his exam. As soon as I arrived home, I heard the telephone ring. There was nobody home because Azza, our youngest daughter, was studying medical lab technology in Germany, so I quickly answered the phone. The girl who had called told me that she was Nasser’s friend and had just come from Egypt, and that he was the only one who had passed the exam. I couldn’t believe it and remembered my mother-in-law’s words.

We were not here during the first and biggest part of the first Intifada. In August 1987, Nasser married Hania, a Palestinian pharmacist who was born in America and studied there. He met her at the Al Makassed Hospital in Jerusalem while he was working there. Their wedding took place in a hotel in Jerusalem. At that time, travelling from Gaza to the West Bank or Jerusalem was easy, and many friends and relatives who attended the wedding were able to return to Gaza after midnight, after the wedding finished, but we stayed there overnight. Nasser and Hania worked for a while in Jerusalem and then applied for work in America. He travelled there in November 1987 and Hania followed him on the 13th of December, one week after the first Intifada started.

Life changed during the Intifada. Once again, the Israelis imprisoned people, and curfews were imposed every night from 8:00 PM to 6:00 AM, and many times during the day as well. People were fed up with the occupation, and the Intifada erupted to resist it. In fact, we didn’t think the first Intifada would last for seven years, because during the years since the occupation started in 1967, we were used to frequent incidents in which many Palestinian civilians were killed by the Israeli army during demonstrations to protest the occupation. Usually, calm would return after the Israeli Army’s heavy-handed suppression and violent reprisals subdued. A few months before the Intifada, Ibrahim tried to obtain permission to travel to Egypt and a few Arab countries and the Israelis always refused, but during the Intifada he was permitted to leave. In December 1987, we crossed the border to Egypt, and from there Ibrahim traveled to other places. We ended up staying there for three years, renewing our visas every six months.

Azza was on holiday in Egypt and before our departure from Gaza, she phoned to tell us that she would soon return home, but we told her not to because we were coming to Egypt, and we asked her to rent a flat for us in Cairo. She said she couldn’t stay longer because of her work in a laboratory in Gaza, but we told her not to worry about that because of the many problems in Gaza. Also, she couldn’t stay alone at home while we were away, given the dangerous situation and night raids during the Intifada. Although Fawaz was living on the first floor, she would still be alone. The situation in Gaza was getting worse and worse, so I stayed with her in Egypt, while Ibrahim travelled to Amman, Tunis, and other places.

Ibrahim worried about Azza and who she would marry, but I told him I wasn’t worried because I believe in God and trust God. I have prayed and fasted since I was six years old, and I have always believed that, in the end, everything will work out by the will of God. Marriage is in God’s hands. An Egyptian doctor at the Palestine Hospital in Cairo liked Azza and she liked him, too. But, she had heard that Palestinians working there had told him that it would be impossible for him to marry her because he was not Palestinian, so it was better not to think of Azza. However, Ibrahim told her to invite him over so we could meet him, and when he came, we were surprised by the appearance of a very tall and handsome man carrying a big box of chocolates.

He visited us often. Before Ibrahim travelled to Amman, I told him that it would not be acceptable for the doctor to keep visiting us while he was away, because people would gossip. So, the next night, Ibrahim asked him why he kept visiting, and he said he was waiting for a suitable time to ask to marry Azza. Ibrahim said this was a suitable time, and they became formally engaged that night. After they were married, he obtained his PHD in neurology, and he now works as a neurosurgeon in two hospitals in Cairo.

Madeeha Hafez Albatta in Gaza in 1995. The photo was taken at her home in Gaza City. Photo courtesy of Madeeha’s family.

After my children married, I realized I needed to do something with my extra time other than eating, drinking, making social visits, and praying, so I first worked with the women’s union. Then I left, but I felt I still had the energy and time to help the community. When I became seventy years old in 1994, I established a literacy centre for handicapped people who were sitting in their homes unable to do anything, and now it has become a big centre. And looking back at the last seven years and the achievements that these people have made in that time, I feel proud of them, and of myself, but at the same time I don’t feel that it has been seven years. It seems like yesterday, or last year, or at most two years ago. But time passes very quickly, and they have now reached the preparatory school level. I haven’t visited them for a long time because of my health problems, but I should do so in the next few weeks. The teachers and students of this centre visit me on special occasions and they also came when I was sick, and now that the new academic year has started, I am planning a surprise visit to them. Every time I travel, I use the opportunity to visit organizations to raise funds for this centre.

I have been to many places: Greece, Germany, Austria, and Canada, and the US. When I stayed in Buffalo for five months during the winter, I found Niagara Falls to be the loveliest view I have ever seen, especially with the snow and ice. I have also been to many other places in America: Chicago, Washington, Boston, and Ohio. I once had lunch at the World Trade Center with a nephew who worked there. Luckily, on the day the planes crashed into the buildings, he had forgotten his access card and couldn’t enter his office, and he had gone home to fetch it. This saved his life. If he had been there, he would surely have been among the dead. I believe the fate of everyone—how, where, and when they die—is written. I am sure there were some people who only left that place a short time before the attack happened, while others entered the building at the same time it happened, so it was God’s will that the first group would be saved and the second group would perish. There are always reasons for this, and the thing that saved my nephew’s life was forgetting his card.

When the Declaration of Principles was signed,1 Ibrahim was in Egypt and was supposed to accompany Chairman Arafat to Gaza for the first time on July 1, 1994, but for some reason he didn’t, although he came on the afternoon of the same day. He still gives Chairman Arafat his recommendations and views of the situation, even these days when he prefers to stay at home and write about the Palestinian cause and work on his memoirs. He is also writing the speech for the declaration of the Palestinian state, which he even expects will be declared in the next few weeks. Nowadays, he doesn’t like to go out or give speeches or attend meetings. He also doesn’t meet with journalists now. Although he respects them, he doesn’t give any interviews.

Next month, we will go to Amman to celebrate the marriage of Aida’s daughter to the son of Ibrahim’s brother, Dr. Suleiman. Ibrahim told his brother that the parties should be held in Gaza because he believes that the Palestinian state will be declared. We hope this will happen, but if not, we will travel to Jordan to attend the party and be with my brother-in-law’s family, especially since he always helped and supported us. I am worried about going to Amman via Egypt after crossing through the Rafah border, which will be a very difficult journey, but it is the only way that Palestinians can leave Gaza now. I travelled to Egypt in July for three weeks to visit Azza and her family, although Ibrahim told me that the trip would be hard. There were many people at the border, and I walked with them and took the crowded buses to the other side of the border, which took a very long time. But I know the situation now is even more complicated than in July.

I have only been to Khan Younis twice in the thirteen months since the beginning of this second Intifada, and both visits were necessary. Six months ago, my old friend died and I wanted to pay my respects to her family, so I left at 10:00 AM, stayed for half an hour and returned at midday. Luckily, the road was easy for travelling that day because it was our weekend and there were few cars waiting at the checkpoints. The second time was in October, when I went to the wedding of my brother’s oldest son. It took two and a half hours to travel from Gaza to Khan Younis. A long queue of taxis and buses—you can’t imagine the number—was going to the south, and every ten minutes the soldiers changed the traffic lights to green to enable four or five vehicles to cross, and then turned them back to red. It used to take twenty minutes to travel from our house in Gaza City to my brother’s home in Khan Younis, but now the Israeli soldiers have made it extremely difficult. It might take hours, and sometimes days, if they close the Abu Holi, the main checkpoint between Khan Younis and Deir Al Balah. By the time we reached Khan Younis the wedding was almost finished, so I stayed for half an hour, but I didn’t enjoy it because I was worried about getting back to Gaza.

While I was waiting at the checkpoint, I noticed the destruction caused by the Israelis, and I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see the horrible scene. I used to know that road before they destroyed it. It was full of orange and olive trees before. But when I looked at both sides of the road, I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know which area had been orange trees and which had been olive trees, because the Israelis have bulldozed the trees on both sides, turning it into a complete desert. I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I closed them because I didn’t want to see more horrible things. Many families depended on these fields for their livelihoods and income. I was also surprised that the Israelis had installed traffic lights. This was new for me. It was a really difficult journey and I am afraid to go and pass through that area again, so now I phone for news from time to time. My nieces were also recently engaged in Khan Younis, but I didn’t go because of the problems on the way there, and now I feel that our social life has been cut off.

This current Intifada is different from the last one. There are many martyrs, almost the same number as during the entire seven years of the first Intifada. But in this Intifada, the Israelis want to destroy everything. Now they are levelling the land, uprooting trees, demolishing houses, killing people—in an intentional and indiscriminate way. By these actions, the Israelis aim to destroy people’s access to their livelihoods by uprooting trees and laying waste to the land. They also seek to inflict on the Palestinians a heavy toll of dead and injured, especially among children. They are destroying the economy of our people in so many ways—one is by preventing tens of thousands of workers from going to their work. They also forbid farmers from exporting their products, and it is the same with fishermen, and in all other sectors of the economy. They have committed many crimes since the 1948 war, but in this Intifada they are committing the worst of them. And this Intifada will not stop until we have a just solution for our problem.

The rest of the world has achieved independence and gained freedom and rights. There is no other occupation in the twenty-first century except the Israeli occupation in Palestine. We and the Israelis can live together as neighbours in independent states. States based on rights and respect, and peace and dignity. They can live within their borders and we can live within ours, with economic, cultural, and political relations between us. I wish America, with its blind support of Israel, would wake up and revise its thinking about why this is all happening. It accuses us of being terrorists and violent people, but we are not. People and nations who defend themselves and their rights are not terrorists. Israel has violated the laws and commits all kinds of terror and massacres against us every day and nobody can stop them.

The Israelis can’t speak about massacres and violence because they have committed many massacres and their hands are full of blood. Once, I was travelling with my son-in-law, who occupies the position of Justice Minister under the PNA, and we were waiting in the VIP lounge while our papers were being processed. Some Israeli officers were also in the same room and we started talking. They asked us, “Was it acceptable for you Palestinians to kill Israeli soldiers who served in the Gaza Strip?”

I couldn’t stand what I heard and asked them, “Was it acceptable that you killed fifteen hundred young men, among them my two brothers, in only one and a half hours in Khan Younis? Civilians who did nothing to you. If Palestinians killed one or two soldiers, it’s nothing compared to the numbers you killed and massacred.”

One of the officers said, “It wasn’t us who killed them. It was the Druze soldiers2 who committed that massacre, not us.”

Unfortunately, or fortunately, a Druze officer was among them, and he said, “What you are saying is utter nonsense because we didn’t join the Israeli army until March 1957, after the war started and finished, after you occupied Khan Younis and left Khan Younis. We did nothing in Khan Younis or any other place at that time because we weren’t part of your army. So, don’t put this on our shoulders.” Then they started arguing and shouting in Hebrew at each other, while we sat watching and listening to them because we both understand Hebrew.

I am sure there are Israelis who want peace and security because they realize the advantage of having peace. They can’t go to restaurants now, or take buses, or stand in the street, or go to coffee shops, but this peace can’t be at our expense. They speak about violence and accuse us of being violent, but this violence is a reaction to their terror. Bush now speaks of a Palestinian state, and Perez is even starting to speak of a Palestinian state, but a demilitarized one. But I don’t think Sharon wants to make peace. He’s a war criminal who started his crimes many years ago with massacres, along with the massacres he is committing every day in this Intifada.3 The only language he knows is killing and terror. He has a black history of crime.

We are waiting and praying for the day when the whole world lives in peace and freedom, from the east to the west, and we are part of that world. I hope God answers our prayers and gives us freedom, especially in this holy month of Ramadan. And that next Ramadan, we can gather with our children who have returned from exile to build our independent state, because right now they are scattered everywhere in the world, using their skills and expertise to build other countries. So, I wish to have an independent state that includes them, and that they can help in building their state and helping their people. I wish the Arab states would unite and get rid of their authoritarian regimes. Although all these countries are now independent and have their own kings and presidents, in fact their people do not have the freedom they thought they would enjoy after their struggle to gain independence from the colonial occupiers. So, I wish these countries would wake up and get rid of their oppressive governments. I also wish they would support the Palestinian cause and people, because there are still some countries that deny entry to Palestinians, while allowing Israeli tourists to enter whenever they want. Before we ask for support from the outside world, the Arab and Muslim countries should support us.

I know that not much time remains for me in this life, but before I die, I wish from God to see my country free and independent, to see my children enjoy their lives in dignity, to see my people live in freedom, and to have a sovereign state led by national and free leaders—a state we can be proud of.

I wish for the next generation to live better and more beautiful days than we lived, free from wars, tragedies, and suffering. Since I was born, there have always been wars, bombs, strikes, attacks, curfews, fears, and occupations, and sadly they continue to this day. We have spent all our lives with the Palestinian cause, and now I wish for a happy ending for the cause and the Palestinian people. I pray now especially and wish more than ever before, because I don’t have much time left and the situation is very hard. In fact, it’s the worst and hardest time for the Palestinian cause and people ever. Hopefully, this military occupation will come to an end soon, and our children and grandchildren can live in dignity and freedom with full rights, and then the curtain of the occupation can be pulled forever. These are my wishes.