more on the murder of mustafa

some friends responded with words of anger, care, support etc. thank you. it means a lot to me right now. i cannot tell you how much. it feels unbearable to be in europe, to feel like i am screaming out my soul, and not know it even reaches anyone, if anyone here even gets it.


i wrote this in response to a friend, but i am so exhausted, i am going to post it here.


there is a lot of information, links, pictures, articles and videos to post, mostly about the funeral. videos that show how – while mustafa was dying, the colonizing soldiers temporarily stopped the car that was supposed to take him to hospital in lieu of an ambulance from leaving the village and at the same time prevented his sister ola from going to the car, prevented her from reaching her oldest brother who was bleeding to death in a taxi only a few meters away from her, inside their small village. ola, my friend, is screaming, she cannot accept, cannot believe she is not going to be able to reach her bleeding brother, but the occupying army’s soldiers joke, stop her.


the occupying army attacks the funeral, they make a joke of the murder of mustafa, they say it is mustafa’s fault that he was shot dead in his village or that the soldier who opened the back door of the armored military jeep, stuck out only the tip of his rifle, aimed it directly at mustafa who was less than 10m away, and shot, says he hadn’t seen him.


a friend, the young man in the striped shirt standing next to mustafa in those terrible pictures of mustafa getting shot, said that another shot was fired at him, too. we almost lost another brother?


it’s an accident, they are used to it, it’s normal.




i cannot describe these feelings today, yesterday…. it doesn’t get better. the pain stays and eats me up, the inability to even assure his brothers, his sisters, his mother, my friends, myself that THIS CAN NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!, to guarantee this to any of us is killing me. that mustafa is just not there is …. hurts so much i cannot find a word to describe it. and while i am supposed to go on with life in this city in europe, the pain spreads into a numbing emptiness that separates me from those around me. i want to be in palestine, i want to be with people whose lives are unable to just resume, who are also shocked and paralyzed and angered and in pain and in disbelief and in rage.


i really want to see ola and zeyad and loai, i want loai’s twin odai to be out of prison, i want to be with people who are mourning, i want to share this…


i want mustafa to be with his family.


i just don’t want this to have happened.


i can’t accept this.


rationally, its there, but in my heart, i cannot accept that this happened, i cannot understand it, i cannot understand it, and i cannot understand that so many people do not hurt and make them stop now.


here are links. i don’t have energy to comment on them. please read them, please watch them, please spread this, please care and make others care.


link with links


anne’s post and more links on her blog


linah’s post – and don’t anyone dare resent her anger!


link with more links (thanks jesse)





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