Song dedicated to Palestinian Prisoners by Stormtrap Asifeh

Ma ra7 a3affen – ما راح اعفن – I will not rot

Vocals: Stormtrap Asifeh
Producer: Aras Seyhan
Scratches: Kolonel Bleep

Lyrics:

-verse 1-

they’re trying to mess with my head, psychologically
telling me my wife is cheating on me

i know he’s lying, the picture is clear
i know he’s bluffing, yet the lie still pressures me

it reminds me of how weak and helpless i am here
but my faith is strong, i know i will end up outside these walls

behind these bars time took a different definition
the day became an hour, and the minute became a second

i wasn’t born to live my life here
i wasn’t born to meet my family behind the glass and on the telephone

an m16 in the hand of a soldier wanting to teach you manners
want to defend yourself? heres a life sentence

who cares about us? definitely not my government
definitely not the law that never recognized my rights

you don’t need an expert to tell you how dirty their law is
when 40% of my people know what it means to be a political prisoner

sometimes i ask myself why i can’t be optimistic..
the plate gets thrown on the floor, its hardly eatable

when i was a child they taught me that prison is for the criminal who wants to harm me
…here my crime is, being born palestinian

the temperature of the floor
lets me know if its september or february
i remember my family, the sky, joy…

as many obstacles they put, i will never forget the seasons
i wont forget 48, i wont forget the massacres…

-chorus-

i will not rot, i know the day is coming
i am not rotting, i know the day is coming

-verse 2-

i ask of god to show me the end of this building
greet the relatives and tell them i still believe in wonders

i could have been a doctor, a singer, an engineer
…but fate is pointing a gun to my head

all my plans are disappearing in front of me
i’m sitting on a chair, handcuffed from the top and the bottom

the bread is hard
mother i feel im getting sick and dizzy
yet my focus is on freedom

im isolated far away and hidden from reality
mother i have a new friend, his name is as mine, and his face is the same as mine

solitary confinement, mother i miss my home
if i die, take all of my stuff
and throw my coffin at the judge

the ghosts of my ancestors are calling
demanding their land, where the prisons are, where their children are suffering

we have to remember the names,
i don’t see one drop of justice, all i see is administrative detention

i didn’t choose to be here, it wasn’t my choice
keep your head up, your life is valuable

their system thought it had everything under control
all of a sudden, a hunger strike began

they thought the human being is hungry and would be greedy for his food
but the human being is only hungry for one thing- the fall of the oppressor

the fall of the oppressor… the fall of the oppressor…

-chorus-

i will not rot, i know the day is coming
i am not rotting, i know the day is coming

Amazing view, amazing memories

I Come From There by Mahmoud Darwish
 

I come from there and I have memories 
Born as mortals are, I have a mother 
And a house with many windows, 
I have brothers, friends, 
And a prison cell with a cold window. 
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls, 
I have my own view, 
And an extra blade of grass. 
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words, 
And the bounty of birds, 
And the immortal olive tree. 
I walked this land before the swords 
Turned its living body into a laden table. 

I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother 
When the sky weeps for her mother. 
And I weep to make myself known 
To a returning cloud. 
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood 
So that I could break the rule. 
I learnt all the words and broke them up 
To make a single word: Homeland…..
 
Beautiful view from the guesthouse. 

As you like

She is from the Former Yugoslavia (now Croatia) who runs a woman’s co-operative that provides sustainable income for Palestinian woman and now lives in East Jerusalem.

He was a medical student and now directs, writes theatre and film in the Westbank and Israel.

He is a vegan and they have no tv.

Be aware, if you are walking down the streets of Balata Refugee Camp or Azaria, take care not to get kidnapped by ultra-courteous Palestinian fanatics. They drag you into their house, offer you fountains of chai-uw-na3na3, stuff you so full of delicious food and drown you in so much warmth and welcome, you’ll want to probably want to be sick….

This evening was a textbook example of Palestinian Hospitality. After our stint at the community centre where we had a workshop from a solid brother called Matt (he provides clown and circus workshops that have captivated children across this neck of the woods), he invited us back to his residence where he was staying with a Palestinian family. The woman, Suzanne was immediately motherly; calling us all dear, she paid real dues to the saying ‘me casa es su casa.’

As we walked into the house, they offered us drinks. Suzanne showed such a sincere interest in us all, paying the greatest attention to our every word, referring to us by our names within seconds. We were also joined by some ‘smaller guests’ that were only 2 weeks old.

We were then introduced to their children; Salma and Omar. Both had a wonderfully ‘British’ grasp of English, not just in their words but in their humour. Salma excells at school in both academia and sports; her interests included reading books and designing clothes. She is only 11. Omar has an arid sense of humour and sarcasm that equated to classic banter. To call them gifted would not be an overstatement.

We were then presented with delicious food and given our orders; “everything must be eaten or I will be offended.” And they really mean it.

Palestinians are also great story-tellers.

Suzanne has lived a difficult but intriguing past. She was educated in the Former Yugoslavia and met her husband, Farid, at University. She tells us in detail the trials and tribulations of moving to Palestine, having known little about the region. She talks about how she set up workshops and shows for Palestinian actors, many children, in the Westbank and how the occupation slowly encroached on the organisations abilty to work effectively. She then tells us chillingly how they worked with Israeli groups who were, it was later discovered, sent to infilatrate, provoke and sabotage their work.

Farid narrates to us all in rivetting detail his formative years. He tells us how he was a medic but how he was forced out. He tells us about how he has written many films (many locked away in his head) and poetry and how he loves to sing. He tells me of the merits of veganism, how it keeps us more lucid and, interestingly, how it makes us smell better. He also tells me of all the bargains at the Bethlehem market he got last week.

The Palestinians have a saying ‘as you like’. It pretty much means that they’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. It characterises the Palestinian mantra to visitors, the zenith of modesty and gratitude eventhough it is you who is humbled by their humilty. The children and my volunteer friends play games, exchange jokes and Salma designs a new top for me. It is safe to say that it is the shortest amount of time in which I have made many friends. And hopefully for life.

Prisoners Day Show 17th April

The show put on by local community members involved Dabke, Traditional Palestinian, Poetry and Political speeches

17th April, Palestinian Prisoners Day

17^th April marked a significant day in Palestine. Many were in the streets and held events to not only show support for but stand in solidarity with the 4699 Palestinians currently being held in Israeli prisons. The Prisoners Day was also commemorated in Abu Dis. The community came together to stand in unity with not only the many prisoners from this town but also from the whole of Palestine.  The evening was filled with speeches and entertainment. The youth were especially at the forefront, demonstrating their skills in poetry, dance and music, and using this as a means to express their solidarity with the prisoners.

Almost all in Palestine either have or have had a relative in prison. This day is often one filled with a mixture of emotions. Families are saddened by the treatment of their loved ones. Many are angry for the arbitrary reasons of imprisonment. However,  the Palestinians remain steadfast in their hopes for justice.

British-Palestinian Twinning Conference

The British- Palestinian Friendship Conference 2012 took place in the beautiful rustic Palestinian city of Jenin on Saturday 7^th April. Many delegates involved in the twinning and friendship links between Britain and Palestine were present, not only to reinforce relations but to discuss the future of this important movement. We, as Camden Abu Dis Friendship Association (CADFA) were also at this informative conference. Not only were we able to see the outcome of all the hard work put in by CADFA, but CADFA was also highly praised and appreciated for its relentless campaigning and social projects.

The move to develop beneficial and constructive friendship links has always been welcomed in Palestine, for it is vital in creating awareness about the human rights of Palestinians who are systematically abused by the Israeli government. The most remarkable feature of this movement is that it is grass roots and groups of all kinds in Britain and Palestine are making links. Boroughs, schools, community centres, faith groups, Palestine Solidarity groups are amongst those taking this social responsibility and supporting local communities. These groups are significant in building bridges through visits, practical projects and twin campaigning.

One of the most recent examples is the brilliant work of those in the Borough of Tower Hamlets campaigning against the use of Veolia, an international waste company used by councils for waste collection which actually supports illegal settlements on Palestinian land. The success of this campaign is a brilliant example of effective twinning. Other examples include the work of CADFA.  Working with a wide range of people from youth to women groups, organising visits and producing reports on the abuses of human rights and infringements of humanitarian law in Abu Dis; CADFA works to support victims of human rights abuses. Alongside this CADFA also sends individuals from Britain to Palestine to not only volunteer but connect these two peoples.

Creating sustainable and mutual relationships is not only imperative in strengthening solidarity but also changing people’s understanding of this stunning country. There is a need for twinning to be extended and for more partners and people all over the world to get involved.  Through such movements that Palestinian solidarity can be strengthened.

“Present absentee” keeps fighting against Israel’s wall in al-Walaja

Originally publised in Electronic Intifada (http://electronicintifada.net/content/present-absentee-keeps-fighting-against-israels-wall-al-walaja/11173)

Sheerin al-Araj, resident of the village of al-Walaja and an activist with the Popular Committee Against the Wall, is a woman of courage, intellect and dry humor. Her knowledge of the area is unsurpassed, enriched by years of experience, living through the relentless temerity of the occupation.

Firm roots

We sit under a cherry tree, the web of shadows protecting us from the intense heat. Al-Araj’s roots are embedded firmly in this village. After 1948, her family was forced to flee. She points to a cave a stone’s throw away from the cherry tree. “This is where we lived for 12 years,” al-Araj says. “We never left the area because we always thought we were coming back.”

After the tumult of Israel’s inception, internally displaced refugees were given cards based on their geographic location. Intending to receive a blue one for Jerusalem residents (her municipality at the time), she received an orange one (solely limiting her to the West Bank, and prohibiting her from traveling across the Green Line), with half of her village apportioned for the settlements of Gilo and Har Gilo. She became a living oxymoron, a “present absentee,” physically there but legally absent. We all laugh at the absurdity; an absurdity that has come to characterize Israel’s policy toward Palestinians.

Trapped

Her house is trapped in between a settlement on one side, an Israeli-only road on another. A tunnel to connect the two runs under her house. She jokes that she will build her house upwards just to infuriate the authorities.

She takes us to the wall and explains how its design admonishes the consciousness of the settlers. On the Palestinian side are the concrete eyesores, but, adjacent to them — on the side of the Har Gilo settlement — a beautifully crafted wall has been built which blocks the view of Israel’s wall. She once asked the soldiers why they did this and they replied “we wanted to give you the opportunity to be creative.”

She has contested the confiscation of the village’s land but the courts inevitably rejected her: Israel’s high court ruled against the people of al-Walaja in August last year. Her realism is insightful: “we know we won’t win, but it buys us time.”

She points to a monastery that is owned by the Catholic Church. Remarkably, the church did not help with the court action. She explains that the monastery, which makes wine, preferred the wall to be carved into the occupied West Bank because many Palestinians do not drink alcohol — the power of profit subjugating the people. To add insult to injury, the Catholic Church uprooted 1,800 pine trees to build a road directly to Jerusalem.

Gaping hole

We walk towards a gaping hole in the wall where it has yet to be finished. The surrealism and confusion washes over us all. I try to figure out how security can be the pretext for this wall’s construction as I can still see West Jerusalem from its neighboring Palestinian village.

Trucks and bulldozers carrying large rocks drive past us with one of the workers waving at me. We all grit our teeth. Al-Araj highlights the fragility of this pretext. “If I’m so scared of my neighbor, I’ll build a wall around him because that won’t anger him,” she says sarcastically. Much of the discourse about security, often laced with racist sentiment towards the residents of al-Walaja, quickly evaporates.

The surrealism ensues.

We move further into the forbidden. The picture that greets us resembles a jigsaw where the pieces don’t quite fit: new terracotta-roofed houses that look transplanted from the near distance of the settlements’ tableau-vivant.

Tearing a cemetery apart

Al-Araj tells us a story of a Muslim-Christian couple who live on the “wrong side” of the wall. They built a private cemetery so that they could buried next to one another, a testament to their love. But the wall’s intended path threatens to tear the cemetery in two. It is almost as if the wall has a mind of its own, choosing a path which is intended to cause maximum destruction.

The residents here face an uncertain future. They are nonetheless decisive. Al-Araj grabs a young boy whom she knows very well and points to him, saying, “this is the terrorist they are apparently trying to stop.” The boy, full of cockiness and excitement, runs off with a smile.

Al-Araj takes us further into the so-called buffer zone, her stories intermittently drowned out by the passing trucks. We edge in towards a house that will be barricaded in by electrical fencing. The intended route of the wall means that a tunnel will be needed to circumvent its snake path. Al-Araj explains that the route of the wall underscores how it is a blueprint for annexation.

I walk on, trying to make sense of the surroundings. On the first horizon, I see annexed land onto which Israel has pushed more of its residents. On the second horizon, I see West Jerusalem. I hear the crunch of the hard grass behind me and see my friend who has lived in Abu Dis, East Jerusalem all his life.

He looks longingly into the area where he can never walk. He stays silent but then utters a few humble words: “it’s not fair.”

There is a nuance in the nature of the occupation. It is not just overt aggression, it is something more sinister. It is bullying, picking on the weak, shoving it in their face. Just a few minutes in al-Walaja with Sheerin al-Araj illustrates how the occupation is the absolute salt in the wound.

They Say, I Say

They say the Wall is to protect them
I say the Wall is to divide us
They say the Wall is to secure them
I say the Wall is to procure us
They say the Wall is to separate them
I say the Wall is to cage us

They say the Wall is for safety
I say the Wall is to control
They say Separation Barrier
I say Apartheid Wall.

Palestinian Prisoners from Abu Dis

People from Abu Dis who are currently imprisoned or who have been released.

5,300 Palestinians are still imprisoned.

Land Day Protest Poster 30th March 2012

In 1976 the Israeli state annexed huge amounts of Palestine land under the guise of “security and settlement purposes”. There was a united Palestinian response with a general strike and marches.