PALESTINE Memories of 1948 - Photographs of Jerusalem | Page 53

that going back home was in itself an act of resistance. We
sneaked through the hills, hiding in the undergrowth,
slept in the open fields at Kafr Qadum, and got back to
our homes two days after, at around 9 am.
It felt strange: in appearance, nothing had changed
in the village, nothing. But, in reality, everything had
been shaken up. Everything was as if paralysed. We
had become more alert, we would never again be taken
by surprise. We were stronger than stone, sleeping with
our shoes on, but there was no money coming in. A few
months after our return I knew I had to look for work
elsewhere, and thought of going back to Kuwait.
I was very resourceful. Crossing through Jordan
and Iraq would not be complicated. But in fact, when I
reached the Jordanian–Iraqi border, I was not allowed
through. In the end I waited until one of my brothers,
who had settled in Kuwait, sent me some money that
I was able to pick up in Zarqa, in the north of Jordan,
where thousands of Palestinian refugees were crammed
in camps. I hid the bills in the lining of my trousers,
which I rolled up to my thighs, and crossed the Jordan
River illegally by wading through it, because the border
was closed and the Israeli army would shoot on sight.
After 1967, the Israeli settlers confiscated the lands
of all Palestinians who had fled and would no longer
be able return. They kept offering us jobs, mainly in
construction. It was easy for them: they came from the
rich countries of the West, bringing their wealth with
them. Since the Palestinians were surrounded and liv-
ing in poverty, many accepted the work.
I carried on cultivating cucumbers and olive trees,
but it was never enough. To be able to feed my fam-
ily of ten, and give them all a chance to study in the
best universities in the region, I too had to go work in
the orange groves of Jaffa, which the Israelis had taken
for themselves. But all the money that we earned there
over ten years did not amount to one hundredth of
what was stolen from us here.
In Kafr Laqif, the Israeli land annexation campaign
started in 1971. As our land was not fenced, the settlers
thought that they could take it. Fortunately, my father
and I took them by surprise as we were on our way to
plant vegetables and we reported them to the police, to
make it absolutely clear that this land was ours. It was
neither wild nor for the taking! They complained loud
and long, but eventually the person responsible had to
pay a fine. From that point on, their attempts at intim-
idation never stopped.
In 1982, caravans arrived and parked on our fields
and all around, they were everywhere. Men levelled the
ground and marked out a road. The road crossed my
land cutting it in two; 28 dunums on one side, and four
on the other. The aim was to facilitate the establishment
and development of one colony, and then a second. At
that time, 8 if a Palestinian opened his mouth to claim
his right, he would get beaten, so I kept quiet. Shortly
after, settlers from Morocco, Yemen, Russia, Iran and
Iraq, established themselves with their families. They
did not build walls but preferred electrified barbed wire
that can always be moved on further… because their
aim is to gain more ground! The head of the settlers was
from Iran, a certain Moses, who even built his house on
one of the highest hills overlooking the entire region.
In 1987, a conglomerate of US–Israeli organiza-
tions decided that my land was ideal for building ritual
purification baths, which are important in the Jewish
tradition. I rushed to the Israeli judge to complain, and
she said:
‘Why didn’t you do anything when they built the
road in 1982!’
I was speechless, I did not know what to answer…
They could have worked around my land, but they actu-
ally went straight through the middle of it. This was
obviously a way for them to take over my land in the least
time possible. The judge could not be unaware of this!
However, she must have realized how outrageous her
remark was, because she quickly suggested that I make a
list of all the contractors and that I register a complaint
against each one of them. The companies were being
covered in the press, so I just had to copy their names.
Their work was stopped in 1988… But, in the West
Bank, neither pieces of paper nor the law are guarantees
of anything. The man responsible for the security of the
settlements warned me:
‘If we want to take land, we take it!’
The First Intifada (1987–1993) had been raging
for several months. Children who threw stones were
beaten or even killed; the streets were blocked. I feared
for my family and I would not let them go out for fear
that they might end up dead or in jail. 9
My olive trees, like my children, have had a hard
time. We are continuously bullied by Ginot Shomron
settlers. Once, in the spring, they sprayed half of the
trees with chemicals. Within days, all the trees had
dried up so we had to uproot them and plant new
trees. We did this with a heavy heart, as it takes seven
Suleyman
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