Young Gazans Lead Protest Against Israel Oppression

In the life of young Gazan protestors, their lives no longer matter – life or death has become the same thing, except for freedom.

Saber al-Gerim, age 22, is just one of the Gaza protesters against Israel for turning the Gaza Strip into an open-air prison. He is the son of a beggar, using his body to protest against the violence of Israeli soldiers,  shouting: “We want to return!”

After over a decade of desperation and oppression, the anger and frustration of the Gazans are justified. Thousands of young Gazans have sprung forth to join the line of protest, fighting for their return to home since 1948.

However, the nature of this protest is bleak. In the past five weeks, almost 50 people have been killed and hundreds have been wounded. 64 percent of the young Gazans are unemployed and many of them have devoted themselves to the cause. For many, it has become the only option.

This feeling of desperation and hopelessness is common among the young protesters, who find themselves being forced to choose between seeking a futile education, joining violent groups like Hamas or Islamic Jihad, or staying at home. Gerim said to his family: “It doesn’t matter to me if they shoot me or not. Death or life – it’s the same thing.”

This protest started on the Facebook page of a young Gazan activist, who organized this grass-roots initiative. This initiative was soon endorsed by Hamas, and therefore turned into this widespread protest against Israel. And this protest has been a success so far – the world has begun to notice Gaza and the immense power its people carry. This has become a powerful reminder of the needs of over two million residents of the Gaza strip of basic life supplies, rights and homes.

However, for Mr. Gerim, his sense of home is slightly different from many others – in fact, he is not sure what home is. His grandmother, Haniya al-Kurdi left Israel with her family in 1948, and has yet to return since then. For Mr. Gerim and many other young Gazans whose lives existed only after the year of displacement of 1948, their homes are just a picture in their imagination.

Besides his recent involvement in the protest, Mr. Gerim dreams of manufacturing automobile and learning how to build cars, so he can make cars in Gaza. He harvests olives and does construction work from time to time. All his life he has never been regularly employed and his family, with two younger brothers, a sister, and parents, is crumbing under the towering debts.

He has never considered marriage as a viable option in his life. When a man fell near him because he was hit a grenade fragment in the air, he did not appear surprised. In fact, he seemed rather desensitized by death. “I could be shot or killed anytime. It doesn’t matter.” Mr. Gerim’s life seems diminished into simple will to keep fighting against Israeli oppression and his life no longer matters in this greater revolution.

Before he went to bed in the tent provided to his family, he sang and prayed softly in Arabic: “Enough is enough. Enough for miseries, promises and words. School students, church bells, a soldier, a knight and the calls of prayers – all pray for prevailing peace.”

Featured Image via Wikimedia