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<font face="arial" size=2><b><u><a href="??">Jabalia: "Hamdillah
Assalama"</a><br>
</b><a href="??"> By Sami Abu Salem</a></font><a href="??"> <br>
</a></u>Palestine News Agency<br><br>
<br>
<font face="arial" size=2>JABALIA REFUGEE CAMP, (Gaza), October 13, 2004,
(WAFA)- <i>"Hamdillah Assalama</i> [thank God for your safety]"
the residents of Jabalia Refugee Camp repeat all the day when they meet
each other in the dusty roads and lanes of the camp.<br><br>
Groups of people paying visits of condolences at tens of condolence tents
scattered in the camp. Such view exactly similar to the groups of peoples
who celebrate and congratulate each others in the Eid al-Fitr (one of the
two main feasts for Moslems).<br><br>
Sand mixed with the ash of the wheels scattered in roads of the
camp.<br>
Every night, the residents fire the elastic wheels to make heavy smoke to
jam the signals of the Israeli drones occupying the sky.<br><br>
In each street you turn your eyes you are obliged to see coloured flags
over the houses of martyrs. Neighbours and volunteers receive
"guests" on behalf of the families of the victims.<br><br>
Shoes and the lower tips of trousers were so dirty because of the ash of
the burned wheels. Most of condolers carry small radios in their pockets
to follow the latest (developments) of the Israeli attack through the
competent local stations. Some local journalists met us, they were so
enthusiastic to say <i>"Hamdillah Assalamah"</i>.<br><br>
We headed to the tent of Ibrahim Hamdan 50, who was killed when an
Israeli drone struck him with a rocket near his house in the
neighbourhood of Tal al-Zatar, east of Jabalia Camp. Two other cousins
from Afana family were killed and five citizens wounded in the same
strike. The family of Hamdan could not set the tent of condolence near
his house (Palestinian tradition) as they were afraid of the drone
shooting again. Relatives and friends of Hamdan set the tent in a
"safer" place in the heart of the camp.<br><br>
Hundreds of plastic chairs crammed under the tent were filled with
mourners. We had a small cup of Arab coffee and a date (Arab tradition),
then headed to tens others.<br><br>
We deliberately used alleys to avoid the endless indiscriminate Israeli
gunshots. The residents of the camp covered the narrow alleys with
pavilions in an attempt to hide their movement from the drones. Two women
were sharing stretching pieces of canvas to cover the alley near their
houses with asbestos ceiling , while some people were busy in
reconstructing their houses preparing for the coming winter.<br><br>
<i>"Hamdillah Assalama"</i>, was repeated thousands times by
people who meet inside the narrow lanes of the camp. A very fat man was
so ashamed because he caused a traffic jam, he edged to a wall, and our
clothes scratched the opposite one.<br><br>
Pictures of the victims were stuck to the walls. Children were pointing
at tens of their classmates. The names of the victims were written in
bold coloured graphite.<br><br>
Walid Abu Sharar 14, was staring at the picture of his classmate Suleiman
Abu Foul who was killed when an Israeli tank struck him with a
rocket.<br><br>
"You see, this is the picture of my classmate, his body was pulled
to pieces when the tank bombarded him," Walid said, "they are
criminals; why do they kill us; I do not know".<br><br>
Walid added that he spends the nights sleepless because of the horror of
unremitting Israeli shelling.<br><br>
"Every night I cannot sleep, I cannot read, I cannot do anything.
The sound of the gunshots and bombardment involve me in horrible
atmosphere, so I become so eager for the morning," he
added.<br><br>
Walid, and hundreds of other students, do not go to school nowadays
because the Israeli tanks are positioned near his school.<br><br>
In the first day of the aggression, an Israeli tank hit the wall of the
UNRWA's preparatory school and shot a missile at a group of residents,
killing and wounding scores.<br><br>
Ambulances parked in different corners in the camp, "waiting"
to evacuate expected victims. The drivers were on a "stand-by"
case, waiting for a message through the radio.<br><br>
Mohammed Saad Al-deen was crossing his hand into his back and walking
near the closed market. His kids were following him up.<br><br>
<i>"Hamdilla Assalama,"</i> I said to him and asked him if his
family and his house are O.K.<br><br>
"My children are still alive, but I do not know what happened to my
home. I fled it; we sleep at my brother's house," said Saad Al-deen,
who lives in the northern tip of the camp.<br><br>
Tens of families, at the northern and eastern ends of the camp have left
their houses. They have moved to their relatives or friends' homes for
temporary accommodation.<br><br>
At least fifty houses, kindergartens, and stores were completely or
partially destroyed by Israeli tanks and bulldozers during the
attack.<br><br>
Beneath the garage of the camp, an anxious man (from Filfil family) was
trying to start a car. Following the exchange of <i>"Hamdilla
Assalama"</i> he said that he is going to the hospital to visit his
cousins.<br><br>
The night before, an Israeli missile penetrated the window of Ghazi
Filfil 49, while his children were asleep.<br><br>
All the members of the family, including the 2 year-old girl Wissal, were
carried to hospital. Wissal is still receiving treatment at Shifa
Hospital of Gaza. <i>"Hamdillah Assalama"</i> Wissal.<br><br>
(11:46 P) (09:46 GMT)<br><br>
</font><font size=3 color="#FF0000">The Freedom Archives<br>
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