Between War and Memory: When Even Survival is a Slow Death
Yesterday, my brother called me by my grandmother’s name after I had gone through all my siblings’ names before finally realizing his and addressing him correctly. My eyes widened in…
Yesterday, my brother called me by my grandmother’s name after I had gone through all my siblings’ names before finally realizing his and addressing him correctly. My eyes widened in…
I once believed that a person could adapt to any environment forced upon them, whether it was leaving their home, their family, or part of their life. I believed that…
Today, for the first time since the Israeli genocide against Gazans began, I left my home not out of necessity, but out of a deep yearning to visit my university—Al-Aqsa…
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