Turn the TV off when the neighbors have their wake, but have the decency to show up at the funeral

It has been almost a year since all hell broke loose. Quite frankly, I find myself embarrassed to post anything that isn’t about Gaza. So, I did what I felt would be right. I killed my pen and drowned my words. Because I did not want to be a jester. I mean, what would my movie reviews add to those suffering under the constant shelling. Then Ismail Haniyah was martyred and the more that surfaced about that man, the more small I felt.

What do I do? What can I do? We were asked to boycott. And we did. “Share this video” and we did. “All eyes on Rafah” and we saw. Massacre after massacre after massacre. We watched and looked until we could not see any longer. With time we grew tired and adapted. Our brains silenced the chaos and now it is white noise. About a month ago, I remember watching a video of someone asking “Have you gotten used to the scenes you see”.. At first, I nodded a yes in a sense of defeat. 

But that’s simply not true, I have not grown used to them, no one can ever unsee or get used to what can only be described as an unspeakable horror. I have only grown ashamed. Doomed to live as a historian or a witness. To remember a date for each massacre; a number on every name or the entire registries of families wiped clean off this planet. Just this week an entire refugee camp literally evaporated. Only a crater left in its place. No blood, no bones, no fire. Not even the fabric that made the tents. It was as if it was never there. 

https://www.instagram.com/p/C_t0KM6oP4Z/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

I remember once telling how I felt to a friend, and I remember how he warned me that I should be careful of my compassion, lest it transform into anger and violence. As if violence and anger are not what we need right now. We must scream, thrash and fight. All with what they have, if I could even remind someone of something that matters to me while I write my funny little articles, then I will do so.

I will write, I will remember and remind .. Above all else, I will repent. If we can do nothing for our families in Gaza, then at the very least we could grow closer to Allah. In hopes that maybe one of our prayers could be the droplet that starts the flood. Small is not vain. Zero is.

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