By the amazing film director, Mohannad Abu Rizk.

Are you a patron of your local library? Did you know you can request books at your local library? Your library can order HILWA'S GIFTS through the interlibrary acquisition process. All you have to do is have your library card number and make the request.  Here's how to do it....

www.helpfundgaza.com/profile/heba-alihasanwww.helpfundgaza.com/profile/heba-alihasanThe past year and a half has been nothing short of heart wrecking as we bear witness to the forced starvation and genocide in Gaza. Mutual aid efforts, emotional support, activism to end the genocide has been daily. Yet here we are. The world sits on their hands in silence. Some of my family escaped the genocide and are trying to rebuild their lives, others are clinging to life. Today I’d like to give our readers a window into the life of one family member, Heba Alihasan who escaped with her family. 

How are you doing right now?

Alhamdulillah. That’s the first thing that comes to my tongue. I thank Allah for everything I have experienced in these past two years, even the moments that broke me. I’m still in a kind of shock, like my body and heart haven’t fully caught up with everything that’s happened. But I’m trying to be okay; for my family, for the people who need me. There’s a quiet strength in just continuing, even when your soul feels heavy. That’s where I am right now.

What is true about you at this moment?

Physically, I am displaced in Egypt. But emotionally, I’m still in Gaza. My body left, but my heart didn’t. Every loud noise makes me flinch, I close my ears and hide my face without even thinking. I try to learn how to be present, but most of the time, my attempts don’t succeed. So I escape into my imagination. I keep seeing a version of life where my family and I are all together, laughing in a quiet place, as if we haven’t lost anyone. That’s where I go when it all feels too heavy into that imagined peace.

There is a western gaze on Palestine. (a perspective or lens through which the West, particularly Western culture and values, views and often judges other cultures, often with inherent biases and assumptions, leading to a skewed or incomplete understanding.) How do you feel about it?

Honestly, it saddens me deeply how the media often shows Gaza only in ruins, only during war and destruction. Much of the world has only seen Gaza through this narrow lens, never witnessing its bright, beautiful side. They don’t know that before the war, in 2023, Gaza had the lowest illiteracy rate in the entire region, just 1.9%. They haven’t seen the beauty of its sea, its harbor, or the richness of its culture. I wish they could have attended one of the university graduation ceremonies, seeing how many students graduate every year in all kinds of fields. I wish they had seen the weddings, the joy, the girls in their beautifully embroidered Palestinian dresses. I wish they could have lived just one of Gaza’s peaceful mornings. Waking up at 6 a.m. to the cool air, the whole city slowly coming alive like a beehive. People heading to work, children walking to school. The smell of fresh bread and pastries with za’atar and cheese filling the air from the bakeries. I wish they could have tasted our delicious seafood, sat at one of the seaside restaurants, and ended the day with Gaza’s famous ice cream and a cup of our strong coffee. I wish they had witnessed a wedding celebration, seen the joy of our people dancing the Gazan Dabke with pride and love. Despite the siege, Gaza was full of life, overflowing with joy. Of course, war and destruction have sadly become part of Gaza’s reality. But I still wish the media would also show Gaza’s beautiful side. And more than anything, I hope that one day this painful reality ends, and Gaza can finally breathe in peace.

What can Palestine teach the world?

Palestine can teach the world how to love life.
Throughout its history, Palestine has faced setback after setback. But after every blow, it rises again, shakes off the pain, and shows us a beautiful image of resilience and renewal. Palestine teaches us that it is a land that loves life deeply and passionately. I’ve lived through many wars in Gaza. And after each one, I saw how quickly the city would wipe away the signs of sorrow. People would rebuild what was destroyed, and life would slowly return to the streets, to the homes, to the hearts of the people. Palestine doesn’t just survive, it insists on living, on laughing, on dreaming. And that is a lesson the whole world needs to learn.

What is Palestine teaching the world?

Right now, Palestine is teaching the world how to adapt to difficult circumstances while still loving life. Despite losing their homes and living in tents, people in Gaza would still decorate their tents and arrange them neatly. In the midst of the starvation, people learned to grow their own food, planting vegetables and mint around their tents to ease their hunger. Despite the pain and suffering, you would often see people smiling, carrying on with their lives with resilience and strength. Palestinians are teaching the world that, even in the most unimaginable hardships, you can still find ways to hold on to hope, joy, and life itself.

 Can you tell us about Alaa, Malak and AbdelRahman. الله يرحمهم

I miss my siblings every single day, every single hour; my sister Alaa, my sister Malak, and my brother AbdelRahman who got martyred during the war. Not a moment passes when they aren’t in my mind. I still can’t accept or believe that they’re gone. How is it possible that those who laughed with us, who ate with us, are now gone, lost in the span of just a few minutes? I miss them so much, so deeply. I often find myself wondering: Where are they now? Are they in a better place, happy and at peace? Do they miss us too? I fear that I’ll forget the sound of their voices, their innocent laughter. So in my mind, I create conversations with them, imagining that they are still with me and that they didn’t die in the cruelty of this war.

 What gets you up in the morning?

Honestly, two things motivate me to get up every morning. The first is my siblings who were martyred in the war. I don’t want to disappoint them. They were always so proud of me studying medicine, and they used to call me the family doctor because I was the only one in our family studying medicine. Their memory is always with me, and I carry the responsibility of making them proud. The second thing is my father, my mother, and my other siblings. I am now the eldest, after Alaa and Malak’s passing, and I carry a heavy responsibility for them. They are going through so much pain right now, and I feel it’s my duty to be a support for them during these difficult times. I try my best to bring them joy and remind them that there is always hope, no matter how dark things seem.

What phrase or dua is on repeat lately?

Lately, I often find myself saying the dua: (اللهم اني ألجأ من حولي وقوتي الا حولك وقوتك): O Allah, I turn to You for help, for my strength and power are nothing compared to Yours). This dua is a reminder that my strength comes from Allah alone. I truly believe that the situation I’m in despite how difficult and unbelievable it may seem, is part of Allah’s wisdom. So I ask Allah for strength to bear these hardships, for the strength to keep moving forward in life, and the strength to continue my studies.

What do you want to tell the world?

I want to tell the world to always stand with and support the oppressed, no matter the cost or where they are in the world. And want to tell them that the Palestinian people are human beings, just like anyone else. They have dreams, beautiful homes, and warm families. What they are facing now does not define them. A Palestinian will always rise up, rebuild his home, and reunite his family. So, stand with them and support them. And the last thing I would advise from my own painful experience of losing my siblings, be kind to each other, to love one another, because death doesn’t ask permission. It comes unexpectedly. Always leave behind beautiful memories in each other's lives, and never take the time you have with others for granted.

Please support my family: www.helpfundgaza.com/profile/heba-alihasan
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This blog post is part of the #30DaysArabVoices Series, a month-long initiative to feature Arab voices. 

So thrilled to announce my next book, AMEENA'S SPECIAL THOBE, by Candlewick Press! I will be partnering with the brilliant and talented illustrator, Bassent Dawoud! Publication planned for fall 2026.​

Preorder debuts and new releases by Palestinian authors!

I am thrilled to present the stunning cover reveal for my debut picture book, Hilwa's Gifts! I am so fortunate to have illustrator, Anait Semirdzhyan, partner with me to bring this endearing story to life!  

On October 17, 2023, Israeli airstrikes struck my cousin Wisam’s building, killing her and twenty-one members of her family. The youngest, Anas, was a year old. Two weeks later another airstrike hit the building of another family and killed my 17-year-old cousin, Abdelrahman. His 24-year-old sister, Alaa and 22-year-old sister Malak, succumbed to their injuries on January 1 and April 19. To date, a total of twenty-four members of my extended family in Gaza have been killed by Israeli airstrikes. The survivors are now starving and desperately clinging to life through the unimaginable and inhumane wrath of the Israeli occupation force aggressions.
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​As a citizen of the United States, my tax dollars were used to kill my family.

My maternal grandparents are from Al Ramlah, Palestine. They were among the 750,000 Palestinians ethnically cleansed from their town in 1948. The Nakba, or the Catastrophe, was to make room for the settler-colonial state of Israel. My grandparents were highly educated yet humble people. They were made to pay the price for the horrific tragedy of the Holocaust. Many family members made their way to Lebanon, Jordan, West Bank and Gaza. The grief and terror of forced displacement caused some of my family members to die on the way to Gaza. This history remains with us, as the Nakba continues today.

Your tax dollars, OUR tax dollars, were used to kill my family and over 34,000 Palestinians in the past six months, more than 15,000 of whom were children.

We are ALL complicit.

This live-streamed genocide is the most destructive of the past century. But for decades, our taxpayer dollars have funded the settler-colonial state of Israel to the tune of $3.8 billion annually. Since Israel’s founding 76 years ago, the U.S. has provided approximately $130 billion in aid total, comprising about 15% of our country’s defense budget in recent years, and with most of that assistance coming in the form of weapons grants. Between the years 1950 and 2020, 80% of Israel’s weapons imports came from the United States alone. (Axios)

Jon Schwarz did a thought experiment and came up with $150 per US taxpayer funding the genocide in Gaza. According to Schwarz, there are two ways to look at this number: “One is that this is a relatively small amount of money. Another is that the U.S. is so astonishingly rich and powerful that we as a country can mete out overwhelming brutality to others and barely notice as individuals. This is, in part, what makes the dollar amount of my contribution especially horrifying.” (Intercept)

Activists talk about collective action all the time–each person making small efforts that add up to tidal waves of change. The same thing is true for causing harm. It only takes a little bit of indifference in the form of seemingly negligible amounts of tax dollars, not taking the time to vote, not calling or writing your representatives AT LEAST ONE TIME, from every American to add up to a tidal wave of harm. 

The taxes demonstrate this idea really well. Taking Schwarz’s experiment a step further, I can estimate that I’ve paid about $4800 to Israel over the course of my adult lifetime. Small numbers add up quickly!

To compound my complicity in dollars, I have taken on the emotional labor to educate and inform all my life. I get questions like, “What’s going on over there?” Or worse, statements like, “Those people have been fighting for thousands of years, there will never be peace in the Middle East!” Declarations of which are simultaneously dismissive, demeaning, and just patently wrong.

Since October, the generational trauma and current trauma have been overwhelming. I am drowning in helplessness and grief watching the genocide of my family and my people unfold in real time on my phone while I stand in line at the grocery store or while watching my daughter at soccer practice. It is a surreal juxtaposition that leaves me constantly unbalanced.

The dehumanization of Palestinians has been systemic, strategic, and perpetuated for decades. Abroad we are being occupied, abused, starved, and killed simply for being Palestinian. At home, we are being dismissed at best and more often gaslit for speaking out against the total annihilation of our people. It’s a particularly cruel twist of fate that we are forced to literally fund the genocide of our own people.

When I share with people what happened to my family, the responses vary from, “I am sorry,” to “I can’t imagine,” to “we pray for peace.” The worst response is silence, which I’ve received much of lately.

But words matter, actions matter, and silence kills. There are an estimated 255.5 MILLION voting-aged people in the United States. (USA Facts) We have the power to make a collective difference. Speak up for a permanent ceasefire, an end to occupation, and a free Palestine.

This blog post is part of the #30DaysArabVoices Blog Series, a month-long movement to feature Arab voices as writers and scholars.