I traveled from the U.S. to the West Financial institution on Oct. 2 to take a look at my Teta, my maternal grandmother, for a 7 days. Alternatively, I stayed for a single month to document my people’s combat for freedom, and witness their ache.
Reflecting on my time, in arguably the “safest” part of the West Financial institution, 50 miles from the Gaza Strip, torments me. As Amnesty Intercontinental has documented, Palestinians—whether in the West Lender, Gaza, or Israel, are subjected to the similar technique of apartheid. However, it can truly feel insincere: Ramallah, the occupied metropolis I reside in, is just a person fall as opposed to the ocean of erasure using spot right now in Gaza.
Nevertheless, my elders always remind me that we are a single. Though I am as previous as the 1st Oslo Accord—which now lingers as an emblem for failed Palestinian statehood and peace—I resist envisioning liberty in fragmentation.
My photographs are what I witnessed in the 5 sq. miles all around me in the West Lender, more than the span of just three weeks, commencing two times soon after the Oct. 7 assault on Israel. Illegal killings of teenagers, collective punishment, and genocidal violence in my have backyard.
On Oct. 8, I entered Qalandia refugee camp to have dinner with my paternal family. A person hour immediately after we washed the dishes, information broke that Yasser al-Kasba, 17, experienced been shot and killed around the Qalandia checkpoint by an Israeli sniper although his back again was turned.
On Oct. 12, I visited the Sarriyeh sports activities club, the place there were upwards of 400 Palestinian workers from Gaza who have been stranded in Israel just after Oct. 7. 1 male been given information that 3 of his family customers have been killed by an Israeli airstrike. “What about the other folks?” he screamed to his relative on the phone in Gaza. “We are still selecting up the rubble,” he replied.
Days later on, when I went to the Redanna athletics club, chants from dozens of other Palestinian personnel from Gaza could be listened to: “We declare from Gaza: uprising and victory.” A protest by Palestinian refugees, inside a refuge, within occupied lands.
A 60-calendar year-outdated employee advised me: “I just want to listen to the voice of my grandchildren. You feel we are pleased here? We do not want meals or h2o, we want to go back again to Gaza. We would die for our land.”
A close friend and photographer from Gaza, Majd Arandas, texted me to inquire if I could test on his brother-in-regulation, who was just one of the workers taking refuge in Ramallah.
On Oct. 25, tear gas and rifle fire woke me up though in Qalandia refugee camp. I closed the home windows of our home as my 6-yr-previous cousin had carried out through the past raid. I woke up an hour later to the mosque’s speakers. The imam was not building the morning simply call to prayer, but asserting a different demise, Ahmad Mutair—a high-school student and fourth-era refugee was shot and killed by Israeli forces. The Israeli govt has not issued a community assertion on Mutair or al-Kasba.
On Oct. 28, I walked into the aftermath of a house demolition in the Jalazon refugee camp, several hours following dozens of Israeli soldiers raided the camp alongside a bulldozer. 6 Palestinian households and 3 generations of refugees shed their properties at dawn. Their bread for the morning was continue to laid out on their eating area table. Israel’s punitive home demolitions are a type of unlawful collective punishment and a grave breach of the Fourth Geneva Conference.
On Nov. 1, I returned to the U.S. for a several weeks to be with my spouse. While on the aircraft, I could not bear to look out of the window. I felt nauseous sharing the exact look at as the drones, Apache helicopters, and F-16 jets my tax pounds bombing Gaza.
I connected to the wifi in the airplane and been given a message about my photographer mate.
“Majd was killed.” His neighborhood was strike by an Israeli airstrike.
Hammad is a documentary photographer, based in between Boston and Ramallah, West Bank. Hammad also operates as a human rights researcher and campaigner.