Of All People, Why My Father?

"I was only five years old when I had been first introduced to the brutalities of war and oppression, and it had all started with my dad offering to take me swimming. Before we got into the pool, my dad, of course, took his shirt off. That was when I noticed a huge scar on his back that I had never seen before. I wondered what it was and finally got the courage to ask him about it. I ended up getting a reply from my father telling me he had fallen down when he was a kid. I didn't believe him. Something did not seem right with the story.

That night when we got home, I asked my mother about the scar, hoping that I would get to hear the truth about the scar from her... It was at that point my whole life would change. My mother sat me down and tried to explain to me this on going "war" that was happening in my homeland between Palestine and Israel. She explained to me how my father had been arrested and beaten for not letting Israeli soldiers into his house, which is how he got the scar on his back. After hearing this, I was filled with rage, anger and hatred. Why would these people hurt my own FATHER? The person I looked up to in life. The person who was always there for me. My own father. Why were they taking over my land ? Why couldn't they just leave? At age 5, the concept of war did not make sense to me. All I knew was that I was angry and wanted to see the people that dared to hurt my father.   

 That summer we went to Palestine. I was 6 at the time, and upon arriving to the Israeli airport,  put into a room and interrogated for hours about my family and where I was going by soldiers. It was then, at that moment, that I had put 2 and 2 together. These were the people that had hurt my father. These were the people that were taking over my land for no reason. These were the people I had anger and hate for. I asked the Israeli soldier that continued questioning me why he hurt my father and left him that ugly, brutal scar. The soldier had no words for me and told me he was bringing me back to my mom because he was "done asking questions." I was 6.     

As a child, you should not have to force yourself to understand something as brutal, heartless and violent as war. Something that even adults can not begin comprehend. But as a Palestinian child, you are forced to grow up before you are meant to. You are forced to have your childhood stripped away from you. And you are forced to see and hear things that will go on to live in your head forever; no matter how hard you would like to forget..." -Sabrine Abed, 18