Dear friends and colleagues

Early this morning, I received the sad news that my mother (54 years old) passed away last night as a result of serious health complications.

I am sending this message to you and many other people around the world because I promised my mother before she died that I would let everybody know that it wasn’t cancer that killed her, it was the occupation.
Yes, the Israeli occupation killed my mother, but this time not using missiles and tank rockets, but through collective punishment and humiliation. Most cancer patients (and those suffering from other serious disease and injuries) from Gaza go to Egypt for treatment because we have neither the adequate health infrastructure nor the most up-to-date medical technologies in Gaza, which is a result of the continuous siege and blockade imposed by the Israelis on Palestinian cities, especially Gaza.

My mother was one of those patients who was diagnosed with bone cancer, in a very early stage, and was supposed to go to Egypt for further diagnosis and treatment in early June 2006. Because of Israel’s collective punishment policies and its tight border controls, no one from Gaza was able to enter or leave Gaza for three months. It wasn’t until August 25 that my mother was able to make it to Egypt. During these three months, although my mother had official documentation from the Palestinian Ministry of Health certifying that she needed to go to Egypt for treatment, my family (in Gaza) and I (in the US) tried our best to change the situation or to make special arrangements to get her to Egypt. Unfortunately, we failed. And even when the border was open for a few days during the last week of august, my mother and many other patients, although they were in ambulances and other medical service vehicles, were prevented from crossing the border, after waiting many hours. Finally on the third trial, my mother and others were able to make it after ten hours of waiting at the border. By the time my mother made it to Egypt, it was unfortunately too late because the cancer had rapidly spread throughout her body and, at that stage, the doctors were only able to offer chemotherapy as a possible treatment. Unfortunately, this didn’t help much, and she peacefully passed away last night. My mother is just one of the many people who are prevented from accessing the medical care they so desperately need. In addition to the tens of people being killed every day by the “traditional” weapons of the Israelis, tens if not hundreds of others die every day because of lack of access to health services due to movement restrictions imposed by the occupying army as well as restrictions on bringing medicine and health equipment into Gaza and other Palestinian cities.

Siege and movement restrictions not only separate patients from health services and facilities (e.g., many women have even given birth at checkpoints, and many other women, children and elderly people have died before they were able to reach the nearest hospital); they also separate students from schools and universities, farmers from their lands, believers and worshippers from mosques and churches, and prevent families from seeing each other for mar many years.

There are currently more than 500 checkpoints in the West Bank—an area that is probably smaller than most of the cities in the United States. This is the area that is currently surrounded by the new Apartheid Wall. These checkpoints separate villages, cities, refugee camps, and sometimes even neighborhoods in the same city. These same movement/travel restrictions prevented me from visiting my family in Gaza (when I was living in the West Bank) for more than five years. And even when I was here in the United States and wanted to go back to see my mother during the last two months, I was unable to visit because the borders were still closed. (The Rafah border with Egypt, which is the only gate for Gazans to the world, was open only a few days during the last six months.)

What really breaks my heart is not the fact that my mother died. Most everyone will have the same experience one day. My fait in God assures me that she is at a peace now. What really saddens me is that, again, because of the occupation, I wasn’t able to see her at all during the past six years, not even to see her one last time, to share her last moments on this turbulent earth, or to say goodbye. I’m also heartbroken because one of the main reasons that I chose to pursue a PhD was my great mother. When I was six years old, my cousin got his PhD, and when we came back from visiting him, my mother asked me, “Would you some day do that for me—get your PhD?” Even though she probably wasn’t even sure that I understood what a PhD was since I was so young, I know that the request was sincere. I kept this in my mind and heart all the time, and I was always encouraged by her and her high spirits to succeed and to make it to Syracuse University to get my PhD. Unfortunately, she will not be able to see this day and to know that yes, I did it for her.

Goodbye my great mother, you always were and always will be, the source of my inspiration, despite your physical absence.

Mother, even with all the love, care, and kindness that you had offered to people in your life, this unjust world insisted that you be rewarded in this merciless way. But I am sure that, wherever you are now, mother, you will still watch over us with great love and support. May God have mercy on you and bless your great soul, mother. Goodbye.

Friends and colleagues, unfortunately, our world is full of similar cases of injustice and humiliation. But remember, we can always make a difference if we want. Think about it and see what you can do to make others live as you and your children live. Even a little change can make a difference.

If you really want to support me and to do me and my mother a favor (I am sure she would appreciate it), please spread the word (forward this letter to as many people as possible or post it on your blogs), let people know about our situation, educate them, and encourage them to make a difference so that we can save other lives and souls in the future.

Raed M Sharif

If you would like to honor the memory of my mother, Laila Sharif, you are welcome to make a donation to support one of her main interests, education. The Hala Atalla Scholarship Fund at the Women’s Studies Institute at Birzeit University assists women students, especially those from remote villages and poor backgrounds, to fulfill their ambitions for higher education. Each semester thirty women students are awarded full-tuition scholarships from the Fund. In addition, at least ninety women students are helped partially by the scholarship, either through tuition payments or other areas of support (e.g., housing fees, books, transportation for women from remote areas, psychological counseling, employment resources, and training).
Cheques can be made payable to: Birzeit University/Hala Atalla Scholarship Fund, and can be sent to: Birzeit University/Hala Atalla Scholarship Fund, c/o Eileen Kuttab, PO Box 19684, Jerusalem, Israel.
Tax-deductible donations are possible in the United States (EIN # 38-287-0089).
For more information about the Fund, contact the institute at +970-2-298-2959, or visit http://home.birzeit.edu/wsi/hala_atallah_s...larhip_fund.htm.
Raed is a PhD candidate in Information Science and Technology at the School of Information Studies, Syracuse University. He can be reached at raedsharif@gmail.com.

اقتباس:to make a donation to support one of her main interests,

Please admins : stop this bad joke

هل الكتابة باللغات الاجنبية مسموحة خارج الساحة المخصصة لها؟