On November 29, Israeli soldiers raided the village of Kafr Ein in the occupied West Bank, just a few kilometres from Beit Rima village. The soldiers began shooting tear gas, rubber bullets and live ammunition at the local people. My brothers Thafer and Jawad joined other youth in defending the community, throwing stones at the soldiers. Tragically, this cost them their lives.
Thafer was the first to be shot by the Israeli soldiers, and when Jawad ran to help him, he was also hit with an explosive bullet. My mother woke me up screaming that my brothers had been injured and taken to the hospital in Salfit. Jawad was rushed into surgery, with arteries and intestines destroyed. Thafer needed to be transferred to a hospital in Ramallah for thoracic surgery.
My mother stayed with Jawad while I went in the ambulance with Thafer. We were desperate to find a route without military checkpoints, as we feared being stopped by Israeli soldiers and risking my brother dying while we waited to be let through.
When we arrived at the hospital 20 minutes later, my mother called me to tell me that Jawad had been pronounced dead. Thafer was without a pulse and doctors performed CPR on his lifeless body, but despite their efforts, he tragically died too.
My brothers will never come home. The foreign media reported this as another episode of “clashes” in the West Bank, but these clashes are in reality asymmetrical confrontations in which young men and children face off with one of the strongest armies in the world.
Some outsiders ask why Palestinians throw stones when they know they may be killed for it. The answer is that what else would you do if you were born under a brutal occupation and suffered its violence all your life?
I remember killings by Israeli soldiers, our family fearing that our house would be bombed, hearing gunshots and explosions at night, and walking past Israeli snipers positioned on rooftops or under the barrel of an Israeli soldier’s gun. When I was three years old, the Israeli army raided our village with tanks and helicopters; five people were killed and several houses demolished. When I was five years old, Israeli soldiers burst into our house, arresting and blindfolding my father in front of us.
When you witness injustice, the loss of loved ones, and wars, what choice do you have other than to try to defend yourself because you know that no one else will?
Jawad had graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration in 2021 with dreams of opening a business. Thafer’s dream was to travel the world. But because they were boys born in Palestine, their lives were always in jeopardy. Jawad was killed at the age of 22 before starting his own company and Thafer at 19, having never left the country.
I am a doctor and before November 29, I dreamed of becoming a paediatrician. That seems trivial now that the Israeli occupation has murdered my brothers. But in this dreadful darkness, I choose to search for the light. I choose to have faith in humanity and in the human urge to speak up against oppression.
The killing has to stop. Palestinians deserve to live in dignity without being oppressed, and without constantly losing their loved ones. Those responsible for killing my brothers must be held accountable. The Israeli occupation must end and its war criminals must be taken to court. How many more tragedies does the world need to see in order to act?
The loss of my brothers is devastating and I will never forget them or the injustice they suffered. They were two amazing boys with kind, sincere souls, beautiful in every way. Now my family and I will wake up every day for the rest of our lives without them. I hope that people reading this will demand justice for Jawad and Thafer and for the people of Palestine, so that no other family has to suffer such a tragedy ever again.