Me Scribbling

   This is one of my habits ever since I was a young teenager; holding a pen, grabbing a piece of paper, and writing my inside out until I am relieved. These “scribbles” are a glance of the years I lived before and of what I was, but they may not get to you. Every human being has some remarkable moments & personal thoughts in their life, which not many can understand, and these are some of mine:

You can easily think that you can get into my mind and know who I am successfully, but you won’t reach where the real me lies until you cross a maze whose walls contiually change; the maze of my silently choatic thoughts. I can be so in need for you, so eager to let you in to the extent that I may hit you with one of those maze’s walls while pulling you in.

I will leave the blanks naked for you to cover whether with love or hatred.
I’ll leave it all for you to whether take it or leave it.
Put the dots at the end of the statements, the end of our story is all under your control.
Put commas inbetween the words, make things clear, this is all I’m asking for.

I fall down but it takes me nothing to get back up, and it also takes me no much time to fall down again. However, I stay alive.

It’s really hard to figure out how to live your life to the fullest. Well, I figured out how, but it’s gonna take me a lifetime to understand how to do it practically.

The more you try to seek peace and love, the more you will get lost and and the more your way will seem vague! But in the end, your ongoing attempts to complete what you have started is what distinguishes you from those who are deceived by the superficial vision of the world. Your exhausting journey lets you know the truth; the real deep bitter-sweet truth! It is worth it!

I do sympathize with whoever feels pain, but I just can’t feel pity for those who I know that they cause the pain to themselves. By whichever way, you have to avoide every action that leads to your disappointment. Then, I can say that your heart is worth consoling!

I may be someone’s laugh or tear, but I am both for myself.


My Professor, Dr. Hassan El-Nabih, Please Stay Well!

It was a very shocking moment when I saw the news about your injury, my Dr. Hassan El-Nabih, by a Israeli air-strike on your house that also led to the injury of some of your family members. It was a moment of recalling some of my memories with you.

On my first day in the IUG as a fresher, you were the first teacher that opened my studying day with this verse of the Holy Quraan as your motto,”Glory be to You! We have no knowledge except what You have taught us. Verily, it is You, the All-Knowing, the All-Wise.” The accurate ways by which you explained the lessons, your fair treatment, your precious pieces of advice and your time that all were given to us generously and unlimitedly were enough for me to realize how lucky I am for being a student of yours.
I & all of my classmates enjoyed the stories you told us in our lectures, and the jokes you used to tell everyday. No matter how many times you retold your stories and jokes, we just enjoyed listening with our eyes wide-open and with the same laugh we gave before. My Grammar I course mark was the highest among my other courses’, you have been the best, finest, most dedicated & most devoted professor for me since the beginning. You will always be our favorite and most loved.
In Grammar II course, I admit that I was so lazy to the extent that bothered you sometimes. I used to sleep on the bench during some of your lectures, then when you saw me, you would stop for a moment, look at me, and say, “You, the girl who is sleeping over there, wake up and pay attention,” with your special calm, slow & throaty voice. This happened many times, which made my classmates look at my bench each time you said the same sentence to another sleepy girl, thinking that I was the sleepy one, as usual!
You hate cheating, you hate dishonesty, you hate laziness, you hate anything that goes against the students’ good, and you support whatever leads to success and devotion. You don’t care for the students’ marks as much as you care for their honesty, devotion, dedication, good manners and sincerity. You have always been and will always be a role model to follow, a father for all the students, and a great builder of success for many generations.
Dr. Hassan El-Nabih, we all know that those Zionists’ missiles are thirsty for the blood of the best and the finest people of Gaza, but we understand that your candle’s light is way more flaming than their fire. You have many followers of your way that keep igniting the light you started.
Dr. Hassan E.-Nabih, please stay safe, please stay in the best of your health. Our prayers all go to you and your family.

PS. Dr. Hassan El-Nabih is an Assistant Professor of Linguistics and EFL at the English Department of IUG.
This is Dr. Hassan El-Nabih’s CV:

I Am A Teacher Of Life!

My name is Gaza. Do you see how beautiful I am?

Well, my beauty seems to make some haters feel jealous to the extent that makes them sacrifice their humanity and conscience to take from me all I have!

They shelled my little home with huge missiles, but from under the rubbles I showed up smiling and laughing at them!

Although my toys all got burned, I never stopped playing. Their silly rockets looked suitable for me to take them as my new toys; they’ve never defeated or scared my spirit.

I remember I once fainted when a terrifying black cloud showered me with flaming shrapnel & stones. When I woke up, my body bones were broken & my face was scratched, but I smiled when I looked at myself because I was more beautiful from the outside, and more powerful from the inside, and because I realized I will grow up; their weapons won’t.

I surrender to no one but to hope appeals which keep encouraging me to keep working. Yes, I work as a teacher … in the life school. I am a teacher of life.

Youtube Video:


The Real Story #GazaUnderAttack

Once upon an era in the modern age, in the civilized world, almost 1.8 million people were living in their own land under a violently harsh siege; they were not allowed to live like the rest of the world. Their steadfastness and belonging to their own home has always been the reason behind their profound misery. It is an occupier who besieged their land, shed their blood, put them all in deep grief and acute need, and called them terrorists. Are you eager to here the story worded by the victims? Here is the luckily wretched nation story.

After a prolonged conflict so far history, one day in 2014 in the besieged Gaza Strip, Israel defense forces killed five Palestinian children, but their death did not echo anywhere and no one seemed to care about such a terrorist act. How cruel that deed was! Killing five kids with no mercy and with a cold blood enraged everyone in Palestine, every true Palestinian. Was it their first terrorist act? NO, in 2008 and 2012, they lunched two frantic aggressions against Gaza in which they killed more than 3000 innocent people, and injured more than 4000 thousand others. Furthermore, they imprisoned more than 5000 people form Gaza and the West Bank. All these actions faced no responses other than an echo of the world’s silence.

Unknown people were claimed to abduct three Israeli teens on June 12 while being on the occupied Palestinian land. The claimed abduction of three Israelis was followed by abducting and burning a Palestinian kid named Mohammed Abu Khedir to death! The Israeli occupation forces launched a wide campaign of collective punishment against the innocent citizens of the west bank by arresting and assaulting many people, including children and freed prisoners in Shalit’s swap deal! It was more of a revenge policy aimed at all the Palestinians, but it soon reached out to Gaza when Israel accused Hamas of kidnapping the 3 Israelis, turning a deaf ear to Hamas’s denial of its relationship to the abducting operation!

Not only did Israel blame the Palestinians in Gaza for the crime that has never been committed at all- but also it launched a cruel massacre on the heads of these Gazans. They were so weak to defend themselves, to protect themselves, to reject the accusations, to speak up, to be heard, or to do anything to stop the cunning frenzy campaign.

It was all fake to achieve many goals, among which ruining the Palestinian national reconciliation. Two separated and divided ruling powers whose division Israel called “the second greatest victory for Israel after the six-day war.” They, after seven years, decided to reconcile. But Israel does not want them to. How would they do such a thing while they were suffering like the rest of the Gazans? Besieged, suffocated, deprived of basic needs and barely allowed to breathe.

After a very short while, the well-planned scheme continued. The three abducted Israelis were declared and claimed to be found murdered. No one has seen a photo for the dead bodies! And for sure, a deceptive plan like this would have yet-to-come practices. Killing would be committed; shelling, bombing, destruction, imprisonment, all atrocities would be practiced, and who would be the victim? The already wretched people of Gaza.

As expected, Israel launched a fierce offensive war on Gaza Strip and called it Operation Protective Edge on July 8, 2014, so the Palestinian resistance decided to defend its innocent citizens of Gaza by responding to the Israeli strikes by its homemade rockets. This reaction of the Palestinian resistance is more than legal and expected. It is their right to resist. How would a sane, true humane person expect them to act while their sons, daughters, parents are slaughtered? To stand still! To remain idle? To sit back and watch who dies next? Surely, they would not!

A month after, more than 1951 people were killed, and more than 10193 were injured, including children and women. More than 59200 air-strikes were launched, and 1724 buildings were completely or partly demolished, including mosques, hospitals, schools and social service institutions. On the other hand, and in the same month, the rockets the resistance fires towards Israel had caused not more than 10 deaths and a few injuries so far, and the damage caused by them was way less than being compared to the destruction caused by the Israeli rockets. Yet still Israel puts the responsibility on the Gaza government for this massive death and destruction!

Now the question is, do the Palestinians really deserve to see death in the eye every single moment? To witness their kids, parents, grandchildren and grandparents bleeding to death? Pulled from under the rubbles? Buried as families en masse? Of course, they will never give up, because a life without dignity and freedom is not a life! They are still hopeful, they fight back; they struggle; they strive; they survive.

Written by: Saleh M. Orouq – Nisreen Kamal Al-Khatib – Abdelraheem Abu Warda

Here you can watch the video of The Real Story:

Gaza: Testimonies in Poetic Prose Form

Hope, resistance, existence, steadfastness, persistence, and a whole lot of mixed feelings all implanted in the souls of the Gaza residents by the fierce war waged by the terrorist Israel, and these pieces of writings is the loophole through which those Gazans managed to put out their feelings.

Palestine from a Bird's Eye View

Despite the horrific situation in Gaza, the people there are never void of creativity. The following pieces are poetic prose written by Palestinians in Gaza. Those pieces are delicately written, but send a strong message, filled with emotions. We have tried to translate those poetic prose pieces to the best of our abilities, attempting not to lose the essence of the message while maintaining the melodic rhythm.  — Caroline Katba & Mohammed Alhammami

(The Arabic Versions of the Testimonies Below)

Nisreen Kamal, July 13, 2014

War is not only an invasion; war is deprivation. Deprived, I need a safe haven, fresh air, tranquility and no agitation.

War is yearning, for streets, for houses, for the beach, for friends and for my teachers. I yearn for my daily habits, abandoned, at the beginning of the war; restricted to sleeping, eating and watching the news, my routine is forever changing, and now…

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What If I Were Her?

I was about to sleep, putting my head on my red heart-shaped pillow, and covering my body with half of a blanket. The music was playing calmly when, suddenly, the beautiful harmonic tones were buried by a very high & violent sound of an Israeli air raid nearby. I almost fell down of my bed & I could hear my heart beats hitting my chest in a re-act to the bombing. I sat still on my bed for a while trying to understand what had just happened! It’s really been so long since the last time I saw my house’s walls and ceiling shaking by an air raid, I think the bombing sound became unfamiliar to me, but not anymore.
I turned on the radio and listened to the reporter, “The Israeli war-planes bombarded separate areas in Gaza Strip and cause the injury of a girl in her house by the flying shrapnel of one of the air raids.” The rest of what the reporter said was not audible to me because my thoughts were much louder in my mind. The injured was a girl sitting peacefully in her place, and the bombing was near her house. It was easy for me to put myself in her shoes because our conditions were almost the same, except for the injury. I put my hands on my knees and rested my head on them, and then I closed my eyes.
I saw red and blue lights sparkling in the darkness; it took me a second to understand that it was the ambulance in the middle of where the bombing happened. Then I saw the shadow of the girl who was held on the arms of some men taking the stairs to get her into the ambulance. Where was she injured exactly? Where? I tried to look deeply but the dark dirty & smelly smoke blinded my foresight. Then, all of a sudden, I was standing in front of her shocked with my eyebrows raised and my mouth and eyes open, staring at her.

When was the last time she brushed her hair? The dust that covered it and the remarkable scratches on her face both made it look messier! Her slovenly hands, legs and body were all my eyes could see, but her head was lowered and I wanted to look her in the eyes! I stepped forward to get a closer look at her, and I wish I did that earlier. Now I could hear her hard breathing and crying. The amount of fear and horror she saw could be seen in her appearance; her messy hair & clothes, and her unclean arms. She put her hand in on my hand and it was the moment when I felt ashamed of my petty foresight that couldn’t notice but the girl’s outer appearance, and I was struck by the realization that it’s never easy for me to put myself in her shoes no matter how many similarities we seem to have!

I felt ashamed for not feeling her pain, for not hearing her screams & appeals, for not touching the horror she felt that gave her no time at all to care for her hair or body condition! And who in the world would think about how they look like when their life’s on the edge! I put my other hand on her hand, I cried my heart out with her, I heard loud heart beats, I heard the Israeli drones and warplanes hovering over our heads, I heard a resounding explosion, I felt some pain, I saw blood shedding out of my body, I heard hard breathing, I saw the girl’s eyes as she was staring at me shocked with her eyebrows raised and mouth & eyes open, and then I was conscious again!

I turned my head to the right and to the left trying to make sure that I am still safe and sound in my silent room. Everything looked the same, but different from how it looked like before my imagination weaved me the threads of that real-like story. Everything was differently the same! I could think no more! I just wanted to sleep wishing I wouldn’t wake up with my body covered with the color of my pillow.

Photo by Wissam Nassar