Sami was a simple man from Al-Zaytoun neighborhood. He lost his wife and three children at the beginning of the war. All that was left for him was his twelve-year old daughter, Jude. Yes, only Jude. Sami tried to pretend that he was strong in front of her, keeping a fake smile every day, and hiding his tears away from her. He kept reassuring her that they were okay and that the war was going to end soon, however, the war did not end, neither did the hunger and fear did.
Sami decided to go to the aid center. He thought he might be able to get some flour and canned food. He wanted to bring it himself and come back to his starving daughter, who used to fell asleep every night with her eyes whispering, “I’m hungry, dad,”. She never said that aloud. Unfortunately, Jude’s father did not return alive but wrapped in a white bag. His body was full of bullets. A bag of rice and a can of beans were sinking in his blood.
The scene would never be erased from the memory of the people who saw him. Sami became a martyr, with the cans of food on his chest. Cans that meant to be “a gift” from him to his only left daughter. Sami was seeking for bread and got killed.
And Jude?
What about Jude!
Jude was left alone screaming and crying.
“Where is my dad?” No answer. No hug to comfort her and no hand to wipe her tears. Twelve years old, orphaned twice. Once when her mother and siblings got killed, and again when her father died while trying to get her food. This war has no mercy, neither for the old people nor for the young. Neither for fathers, nor for daughters.
Who is left for us besides God!
Who does Jude have but us!
Why is all this happening!
Why did Sami go!
And why must Jude go on with her life alone, hungry and terrified!”
Yafa Abu Akar
28/6/2025
