ICH: The High Cost of Democratic Elections in Palestine
"In my village, starvation and for real," says the woman in halting English. The overseas connection makes her voice sound faint and almost ethereal. In front of me is a glass of cold lemonade. Across the table is a tin of homemade pastries.
The woman I am talking with lives in the village of Davreh, five kilometers outside Ramallah. "But it takes an hour to travel from here to Ramallah, because of the checkpoints," she explains.
This woman, (let's call her Dina, which is not her real name) should not be facing starvation. Until recently her family owned considerable land. Fertile land. Dina's mother raised and educated eleven children by farming this land.
"Our land is equal to our soul." Dina says. "It has been in our family for over one hundred and fifty years. My mother refused to sell even one meter of our land. She told us, take care of our land. Don't sell it, even if you have to beg for money. And they took it for free."
"They" is Israel.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment