mustapha died. he was killed inside the village he grew up in. while protesting the ongoing zionist attempt to further annex their lands. in cold blood.
i was on the train to pick up a friend at the international bus stop. i was just uploading the video of mustafa bleeding into the ground and being carried into a service, i had just typed “how can he possibly survive this” – my heart hurts so much at seeing mustafa’s brother loai (young man in grey/black checkered jumper first seen at 0:19), at seeing mustafa, who is so strong, lying there like that, bleeding like that. before i could upload the video, i got the message. he’s dead..
it is suffocating to receive this incomprehensible news that breaks the world, but around me, people don’t even know, people continue, people just sit in a train. people stare at me, i’m crying like i’m crying out something in my guts, i’m glued to my laptop and my phone, they are the only things that reflect the terrible reality on the train, far away from palestine. it’s hard to grasp when nothing around me is interrupted, when no one around me feels the hole and pain and immense injustice left by the murder of mustafa.
at least the friend who just got back from palestine is here. he didn’t know mustafa, but his murder is also part of his life now. i want to be back, i don’t want to be here.
anne says there are clashes now in nabi saleh. later today, a silent vigil is planned in ramallah. tomorrow morning, a procession will take mustafa’s body from the hospital to the village. i can’t imagine his family now.