This is my uncle, my love, and my best friend, a bookworm, so funny he can’t leave you sad, so wise and mischievous at the same time, he has a special world, a different mind, a way of speaking that makes you want to keep talking to him forever, very, very, very funny, he is the refuge of everyone I know in their dark times.
For the first time in my life, I stand helpless, in disbelief. All my words collapsed, and my awareness stopped. And I still feel that you are alive.
Israel killed my uncle this morning.
I went to where he was displaced to spend some time with his family, my cousins and my classmates as well, we are at the same age, whose grief is no less than mine. There, I found dozens of books next to his bed. It’s not surprising, since his most valuable possessions in his destroyed home were rare books and copies over a hundred years old. But what’s strange is that he preferred reading during the genocide and was able to do so.
What a loss for us, what a loss for me.
HAMED MAHMOUD AL-MASRY, my uncle was one of the most patriotic and committed people I’ve ever met.
My uncle is the person who made me ask the question: “What our lives really means, after all those who have been killed?”
What really hearts me is that he was killed feeling HOMESICK, he was displaced and has never been able to see the home for the last time.
Rest in peace Abu Mahmoud, I miss you so much my friend.
Bisan Owda
28/07/2025
