Have you ever sung "Happy Birthday" to a child without knowing if it would be their last?
I did.
Nadia AbuShaban
Courtesy Nadia AbuShaban
My family came together on October 29th at a friend's house in Khan Younis, Gaza, to celebrate my nephew, Hashem's, 12th birthday. We had been seeking shelter there for several days, escaping the relentless Israeli airstrikes that have inflicted countless casualties and devastation in our neighborhood in Gaza City for over three weeks.
Despite our solemn mood, we decided to celebrate nonetheless. Birthdays hold a special significance, particularly for children, and after everything they have experienced, it seemed necessary to reaffirm the value of life.
Collectively, we organized a humble yet deeply meaningful celebration. The women in our household crafted a simple pineapple cake using minimal ingredients and without the need for refrigeration, as both food and electricity are scarce commodities. We also included popcorn, a beloved treat that brought an additional spark of joy to the event.
With smiles on our faces, a trace of trepidation lingered within us.
Gathered around the kitchen table, all 17 of us rejoiced, lighting a candle and serenading "Happy Birthday, Hashem.” However, a muted and hollow undertone pervaded the room, overshadowed by the persistent fear of imminent peril.
From my position behind the camera, I remained vigilant, monitoring the window for any sign of a red light, which would signal an imminent airstrike. I was poised to disrupt their singing by commanding them to "quickly take cover and protect your ears!". Fortunately, the anticipated threat never materialized.
Hashem reads a birthday card alongside his friends Tala and Sewar.
Courtesy Nadia AbuShaban
The highlight of the celebration occurred when Hashem's sister, Basma, along with our host family's children - Younis, Sewar, and Tala - surprised him with a birthday card and presents. They had creatively fashioned these gifts using their own personal belongings as they couldn't risk going to the market. The children represented resilience and friendship, showing us how to appreciate the small joys of life in spite of challenges.
Our children deserve a chance
Hashem is a remarkable young boy on the cusp of adolescence.
Hashem, with his brightness and curiosity, possesses a deep love for reading and a strong thirst for knowledge. Moreover, he exhibits remarkable skills in video game playing, effectively utilizing the internet as an invaluable resource for both learning and connecting with others. Notably, his fluency in English, which he fostered through early exposure to platforms such as YouTube and other websites, stands out as a notable achievement. Additionally, Hashem holds a special adoration for his younger sister, Basma, who brings immense joy and happiness into his life.
I worry about Hashem, not only for his safety but also for his future. Given the limited opportunities in Gaza, what will he become as he grows up? How will the fear and violence around him affect his young and developing mind? When will he come to understand the harsh realities of life in this place? And most importantly, will he even live to celebrate his next birthday?
The world must understand that the children of Gaza are just like theirs. Theyre full of hope and dreams, and deserve a chance for a bright future.
Nadia AbuShaban
The children of Gaza are no different from children anywhere else in the world. They are filled with hope and dreams, and they deserve an opportunity for a promising future. Even though they face countless challenges, they possess an indomitable spirit and a strong determination to learn, develop, and flourish. Though their laughter may be tinged with the hardships they endure, their hope remains unwavering, a powerful testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
The precious aspirations of young minds should not be crushed.
Yet, that is precisely the tragedy unfolding in Gaza at this very moment, with Israeli airstrikes decimating houses, mosques, churches, schools, and hospitals. Numerous children, like Hashem, have already lost their lives, and countless more bear the scars of injuries.
Save the Children reports that the number of Palestinian children killed in the past three weeks has exceeded the yearly tally of children killed in armed conflicts worldwide since 2019.
The ongoing perpetuation of such senseless killings is truly unimaginable.
Hashems wish
Everyone knew what Hashems birthday wish was going to be before he made it. He had been telling family and friends for days that he would ask for a ceasefire.
"I just want peace," he told me before the party.
As he pressed his lips together and blew out the candle, I quietly wished for the same.
Imagine if the war came to an end, paving the way for a fair and lasting peace in Gaza. In this newfound tranquility, the children of Gaza would finally have the opportunity to fulfill their potential, cultivate their abilities, and flourish in a supportive atmosphere that encourages them to pursue their dreams. After all, isn't this the aspiration every parent holds for their own children?
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I'm certain that Hashem's 12th birthday will remain unforgettable for him - his mother's distressed expression, his inability to invite his friends, whose current status he is unsure of, and our request for the children to sing softly as a sign of honor for the martyrs and their sorrowful families.
Hashem will soon be old enough to understand the gravity of the situation in Gaza and the limitations it will place on his life.
I pray this war, and others to come, wont break his spirit.