The Agony of Mothers in Gaza

“I WISH THAT I COULD LOOK AT MY CHILDREN AGAIN WITHOUT FEARING WHETHER THIS MIGHT BE THE LAST TIME I CAN HOLD THEM CLOSE.”

“I look at my children and feel guilty because they have been denied their childhood, they were forced into the cruel world of adulthood, of war: no schools, no playgrounds, no daily walks by the sea. I hear bombs and wish I could wrap them with my own body, wish that my love, larger than the universe could protect them, shelter them.”

https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/campaigns/2025/04/testimony-from-gaza-to-be-a-mother-during-genocide-is-to-fight-every-minute-every-second/

A woman in a yellow raincoat holding a distressed child in a disaster-stricken area with debris and destruction in the background, with a quote about wishing to hold her children close again.
Postcard with a photo of Dr. Jumana Arafa in a hospital bed, holding her newborn twins, Aysal and Asser, who are wrapped in white blankets. Text on the postcard describes her feelings and situation three days before her twins were killed in an Israeli strike.

Solidarity is a physical practice.

“The victim who is able to articulate the situation of the victim has ceased to be a victim: he or she is a threat.”

— James Baldwin, The Devil Finds Work