Will I see you?
Generation after generation of exiled Palestinians. Only in their imagination, in photos, in stories, and in the news does Homeland exist. But attempts to recreate the homeland again do not stop, even in a small plant next to the window.
Rasmi Atwan is considered one of the Nakba generation. Born in 1949, Rasmi's life began under the shadow of displacement when his pregnant mother took refuge in Lebanon. He was born in a Palestinian refugee camp, a situation that symbolised the plight of countless Palestinians uprooted from their homeland.
Growing up, Rasmi would often visit the Lebanese border cities overlooking Palestine. These visits were bittersweet; he could see his family's village in Tiberias from afar. "I felt like I was smelling the scent of home. But oppression was squeezing my heart. My country was in front of me, and I could not see it," he recalls. This poignant memory encapsulates the deep sense of longing and loss experienced by Palestinian refugees.
The conditions in the Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon were harsh and complex. The refugees faced significant restrictions and lived in a state of legal and social limbo. When Rasmi turned twenty, the difficult circumstances forced him to move to Saudi Arabia in search of better opportunities. However, life in the diaspora came with its own set of challenges.
to the bureaucratic hurdles imposed by the Lebanese authorities, Rasmi was unable to attend his father's funeral. Obtaining the necessary security clearance would have taken 45 days, a delay that made it Tragedy struck when Rasmi's father passed away in Lebanon. Due impossible for him to be there in time. This painful experience of exile, where even the rituals of mourning are disrupted, reflects the broader story of Palestinian displacement and loss.
Rasmi Atwan's life story is emblematic of the Palestinian experience. "I feel that my story embodies the story of Palestine. I have not seen the homeland in my entire life. I was overwhelmed by exile, to the point that it prevented me from attending my father’s funeral," he says. His narrative is a powerful testament to the enduring impact of the Nakba on individual lives and the collective Palestinian identity.
Through his story, Rasmi Atwan not only recounts his personal journey but also sheds light on the ongoing struggle of Palestinian refugees. His experiences underscore the resilience and perseverance of a people who, despite decades of displacement, continue to yearn for their homeland and strive to keep their cultural and historical identity alive.
The journey of Mohammed
Nine-year-old Mohammed Shaheen lost his family in a single airstrike. His uncle fought to get him out of the enclave.
In the early morning of December 7, a blast shook the room where Mohammed Shaheen slept beside his parents and younger siblings in central Gaza.
Three more strikes followed in rapid succession, collapsing the walls and sparking a fire. Mohammed’s vision was blurred; blood streamed down his face. Mohammed's desperate cries went unanswered. Amid the chaos, he was rescued by neighbours who heard his screams. They carried him to a makeshift shelter.
Mohammed’s story is a harrowing testament to the ongoing suffering in Gaza. It highlights the human cost of the conflict and the extraordinary lengths to which families go to protect their loved ones. Through the tireless efforts of his uncle, Mohammed was given a second chance at life, even as the memories of that fateful night continue to haunt him.
Maryam's story is one of unexpected transformations. Born and raised in Denmark to refugee parents, she grew up in a peaceful environment, far removed from the turmoil her mother experienced. As a quiet individual, she valued privacy and lived a life away from the public eye. However, the outbreak of the war in Gaza on October 7 drastically changed her path.
Despite her natural inclination towards privacy and a quiet life, Maryam felt compelled to take action in response to the escalating conflict. Witnessing the suffering and injustice in Gaza stirred a deep sense of responsibility within her. She stepped out of her comfort zone and began to actively participate in demonstrations in Aarhus.
Maryam quickly emerged as a significant figure in the protest movement, becoming one of the main speakers and leaders of the demonstrations.Her role is particularly noteworthy because she stands out as the only female voice among the organizers. Her leadership not only amplifies the call for peace and justice but also highlights the crucial role of women in activism.
In a short time, Maryam's life has undergone a profound transformation. From a private individual to a prominent activist, she now dedicates her energy to advocating for the rights of those affected by the war. Her journey is a powerful testament to how personal convictions and circumstances can lead individuals to unexpected roles, making significant impacts on their communities and beyond.
She was born and raised here in Denmark. Her parents are originally from Palestine, but they were born and raised in Lebanese refugee camps. None of them have ever been to Palestine. Her parents came to Denmark just 13 days before she was born in 1988, so she is 35 years old now. She's lived here all my life, went to school here, works here, and has her family here.
Despite never having been to Palestine, she feels a deep connection to it as it runs through her veins. Her Palestinian identity is a significant part of who she is, especially over the last 15 years. “With each massacre in Palestine and every act of injustice, my sense of Palestinian identity grows stronger." Maryam says.
“My link to Palestine is rooted in my heritage. I cook and eat Palestinian food, and I teach my kids about Palestinian history. This cultural and historical education is essential for preserving our identity and understanding our roots." Maryam says.
Chadi Abdel Rakim turned his personal experience with Palestinian alienation into a play. During which he tried to tell how he felt when he was a child, and his mother would repeat a certain story to him. This story, which he later discovered, embodies the lives of Palestinians.
Chadi Abdel Karim works as a theatre artist and singer in the city of Aarhus, Denmark. He was far from the Palestinian cause until he was twenty years old, when he received a call from a Palestinian activist inviting him to speak at a demonstration. I had mixed feelings at the time.
At that time, Chadi recited a poem he wrote about Palestine and about the country that he had never visited before, but that resides in his heart.
Through his art, Chadi strives to shed light on the Palestinian issue. His work in theatre and music serves as a powerful medium to convey the stories and struggles of his people.
By sharing his personal journey and the collective experiences of Palestinians, Chadi aims to raise awareness and foster a deeper understanding of their plight. His artistic endeavours not only highlight the ongoing conflict but also celebrate the enduring spirit and cultural heritage of Palestine.
Chadi Abdel Karim's journey from a distant observer to a passionate advocate for Palestine underscores the transformative power of art in addressing social and political issues. His work continues to inspire and mobilise audiences, creating a platform for dialogue and change. Through his creative expression, Shadi keeps the Palestinian narrative alive, ensuring that the stories of his people are heard and remembered.
Salah Eleyan is a Palestinian from Gaza who left his homeland a year and a half ago to pursue a master’s degree in quantum physics at Aarhus University in Denmark. I met him at one of the pro-Palestinian demonstrations in Aarhus, and his story, along with his family's, inspired me to start this fundraiser to support them.
Salah is a gentle soul, driven by the hope of securing a better future for his family. However, the recent escalation of violence in Gaza has drastically altered his life. His nights are filled with worry, and his days are haunted by images of destruction from his home. Communication with his family is sporadic and brief, often lasting only a few minutes, not enough to fully convey the horrors they are experiencing. "I have difficulty seeing a future," Salah told me, "because in the end, what is the importance of anything in life without family?"
On December 3, 2023, tragedy struck Salah’s family. The house where his middle sister, Asmaa, was taking refuge was bombed, killing her son Karam—Salah’s nephew—and the joy of the family. Asmaa and her infant daughter, Maryam, were pulled from the rubble, suffering bruises and scratches but bearing the unbearable loss of Karam. Their apartment, filled with memories and keepsakes of Karam, was completely destroyed by Israeli shelling, leaving them with nothing.
Salah’s family home and his apartment also sustained damage from Israeli shells and drones. The family now tries to sleep in the least damaged rooms under dire living conditions, made worse by extreme cold, humidity, and rain. The blockade on aid to Gaza has led to a systematic process of starvation. Salah's family, like many others, has resorted to grinding grain meant for animal feed combined with hay as a substitute for flour. This has severely impacted their health, with several family members being hospitalised for malnutrition and dehydration.
Despite the overwhelming hardship, Salah’s story is one of resilience and the enduring human spirit. He continues his studies in Denmark, hoping that his education will eventually help improve the situation for his family and people back home. His commitment to his family and his homeland, even in the face of immense personal loss and suffering, is a powerful reminder of the strength and perseverance of the Palestinian people.
