In Handala’s playground, season 1, episode 4. 

Starvation  and Resilience

Voice of Palestine

[Scene: A makeshift shelter in Gaza. Widad sits on the floor, cradling a photo of her deceased baby Ahmed. Handala stands nearby, his back turned to her, but his presence is palpable.]

Widad: [Choking back tears] Ahmed was only two months old when he left us. We tried everything to keep him nourished, but with Israeli bombardment and blockade, we had no choice but to give him sea and contaminated water. He grew weaker each day until he couldn’t fight any longer.

[Handala remains silent, his small frame a silent testament to the countless injustices suffered by the Palestinian people.]

Widad: [Voice trembling] My heart breaks for him, for all the babies who never got the chance to live, to laugh, to play. And for my husband, my father, my three brothers… They were only trying to bring food home to their families. But the IOF’s relentless attacks turned their noble mission into a massacre.

[Handala’s posture remains unchanged, but his eyes, unseen behind his turned back, reflect the sorrow and resilience of his people.]

Handala: [Finally speaks, his voice soft but resolute] Widad, though my back is turned, I stand with you and all Palestinians in our struggle for justice, peace, and freedom. Our suffering is great, but so too is our resilience. We will not be broken, for our spirits are as unyielding as the olive trees that dot our land.

Widad: [Nods, wiping away tears] Thank you, Handala. Your silent presence speaks volumes. Even in our darkest hour, we find strength in solidarity, in the knowledge that we are not alone in our fight for a better tomorrow.

[As the sun sets over Gaza, casting long shadows across the battered landscape, Widad and Handala sit together in silent communion, their shared sorrow mingling with the flicker of hope that burns eternal in the hearts of the Palestinian people.]


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Youth's poetry ignites my quest, Against oppression, I protest. In Palestine's struggle, voices rise, For freedom, peace, justice, my cries.
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