excerpt from In Gaza blog post
The other day I re-visited the family of martyred Mohammed al Attar, killed while net-fishing off the shores of Sudaniya, northern Gaza. They are poor, desperately-so, and have a string of martyrs in their family, including Mohammed’s mother and one brother.
I’d wanted to see them again and found the time a couple of days ago. I’d wondered how this Ramadan and ‘Eid were for them, with another martyr in their thoughts, and one less source of income for their extended family. But I didn’t need to ask, for it was fairly obvious: there was no celebration, no happiness. They were plodding on, surviving, living to die.
Mohammed’s father Nadi had said on an earlier visit that life had little point for him:
“They killed my wife and sons, I don’t care if they kill me or not. There’s nothing I can do, it’s not in my hands,” he’s said of the Israeli army attacks and life under a siege unimaginably brutal.