In the photo appears Ghaith, the son of my hero, friend, and great journalist Maryam Abu Daqqa. The Israeli airstrike killed Maryam leaving him crying. He swallowed the bitterness of loss. He did not even get a chance for a final farewell. Maryam used to miss Ghaith. He was her main concern day and night. Every time we met, Ghaith was present with us through his photos. Maryam decided to send him away from Gaza for his safety. I had done that sixteen months ago. I had sent my daughter, Alia who is 14, and Jamal, 12, out of Gaza. Whenever I see this picture of Gaith, with tears dropping from his eyes, I imagine my two children crying my loss without a final farewell.
Ghaith’s tears tore my heart apart. How long have you been away from your child, Maryam?
I am a solid journalist, as others describe me. I am one of three female journalists covering the war away from our children. One of us was Maryam who has been killed a few days ago! Yafa Abu Aker and I are left, sipping our fear. I say to Yafa, “what to do, Yafa?” She replies, “I swear I don’t know, Noor! Then, we cry.
Since the killing of Maryam, I have been in despair. My motherhood today has created a pain in my heart that exceeds my feeling of strength. I am one of the victims of war who lost everything. As my two children grow, their features and thoughts will change away from me. All I hope for is to have a chance to see them, take care of them as a mother after covering 700 days of war! All I am looking forward to is to reunite with them; to have a final farewell, if my life is to end.
I feel my heart burning in fire. I do not wish what I feel to any other mother in the world.
Nour N. Swirki
29/08/2025
(Translated by writer, and edited by Palestinian Stories)
