He wasn't a "terrorist", because Israel didn't charge him with ANYTHING. They just kept him in a torture prison for more than two years - like they do with thousands of other Palestinians - and nearly starved him to death.
Monsters.
A real catastrophe is unfolding before our eyes in Gaza City, yet it feels as though no one cares. The world seems unaware of what is happening here, or perhaps it has simply stopped paying attention.
Today, I walked a long distance to the only drinking water station serving our area. When I arrived, I was shocked to find that it had completely stopped operating. The reason was not a technical failure, but the lack of fuel and engine oil needed to keep the desalination plant running.
Imagine a facility that provided clean water to more than 20,000 people living in displacement camps suddenly shutting down. This is happening as summer begins and the heat grows more intense with each passing day. Thousands of families are now left without access to safe drinking water.
And the tragedy does not end there. Dozens of bakeries have also stopped operating or drastically reduced production because they can no longer obtain the fuel and lubricants needed to run their equipment. Every day I stand in long lines under the scorching sun for two or three hours, and many times I return to my tent empty-handed, unable to find a single loaf of bread for my family.
The situation here is becoming more desperate with every passing day. No aid, no water, no bread, no homes, and increasingly it feels as though our lives have no value in the eyes of the world. What we are experiencing is no longer just a humanitarian crisisit is a disaster that is worsening by the hour.
Sometimes I feel as though I am writing these words into a void, as if our voices can no longer reach anyone. But the reality is that the situation here has spiraled completely out of control, and people are being left alone to face hunger, thirst, and unbearable heat.
Is anyone listening to us? Does anyone truly understand the scale of this catastrophe before it is too late?
Every day for a week, the children gathered at the refrigerator and called out to their mother. She never answered. She was inside it. 💔
Gaza Civil Defense spokesperson Mahmoud Basal recounts the account behind that scene, from Beit Hanoun in the early days of the genocide. A man there had solar power running in his home when Israeli occupation forces besieged the neighbourhood and opened fire on residents. His wife was preparing food inside the house, her baby of no more than six months in her arms, when an Israeli occupation sniper shot her directly. She fell to the floor with her child, and every attempt to revive her failed. Her husband tried to bury her outside, but the occupation army was in the area and he could not, and for a whole week her body stayed in the house with nowhere to lay it.
With every option impossible, the man placed his wife's body inside the refrigerator that ran on his solar system. He tried to lay it on its side to serve as a grave, and when that failed he left it upright, his wife inside, and tied the door shut with ropes so it would not open. That is where the children kept their vigil, beside their mother, hoping she might answer. Basal stresses this is a scene, not a story, a reality lived by one family in Beit Hanoun, and he says there are accounts in Gaza even harder than this one. His appeal is to the world's living consciences: protect humanity before it is too late.
mahmoud_basal88 (IG)
The Israeli Supreme Court, supposedly the last bastion of Israeli "democracy", just signed Dr Husam Abu Safiya's death warrant.
The court rejected his appeal and ordered for the continuation of his unlawful detention, knowing full well that he is being held in abhorrent conditions, without cause or indictment and being subjected to torture on a regular basis.
Hostage taking, torture, rejection of the most basic human rights; with this kind of democracy, who needs fascism?
Free Dr Husam Abu Safiya now!
Claire Kerrison was arrested at 4:33am from her Brighton home for sending emails concerning 'israel's' genocide in Gaza to her MP Peter Kyle.
Four police officer raided her home on 17 June 2025. They seized her electronics. Held her for over eight hours with no one knowing where she was. Released her on strict bail. Charged her in late 2025 under the Communications Act.
The case dragged on for a full year. She faced multiple court hearings including not-guilty pleas.
The emails were described by those who read them as articulate and non-abusive— simply expressing horror at events in Gaza.
The man who triggered the police complaint? Her own constituency MP, Peter Kyle:
- Britain's trade minister responsible for arms exports to 'israel'.
- Long standing member and previous vice-chair of Labour Friends of 'israel'
Kyle has been accused of breaching the Ministerial Code by failing to declare his LFI membership in the official List of Ministerial Interests for 18 months despite the clear conflict.
The case was finally dismissed yesterday, with costs awarded to Claire Kerrison.
This is why British politicians who are paid/influenced by the 'israel' lobby must be banned from public office.
https://t.co/viU9p4EGL7
https://t.co/0MR8J2EAU3
❤️🩹They found a nineteen-year-old woman still alive, half her body exposed and half pinned between two concrete slabs, her arm severed and her body torn by shrapnel, after the Civil Defense rushed to a house struck without warning and began digging. As they tried to free her and ease her pain, they asked her about herself, and she told them she was nineteen, that she had memorised parts of the Quran, that she had scored ninety percent in high school and was an outstanding university student. She kept reciting the Quran, praying and asking forgiveness, and then she died.
Even after she was gone, her ordeal shaped a decision no rescuer should ever have to make. Her body stayed trapped beneath the slabs, and the team chose to amputate the pinned part with a disc grinder to recover her, so that her remains would not be left for the stray dogs that had become a widespread sight, or crushed under advancing Israeli occupation bulldozers.
mahmoud_basal88 (IG)
🚨🇺🇸 The #HindRajabFoundation has filed a request for prosecution in the United States against Israeli-American Jake Burkons for alleged involvement in crimes committed in the Gaza Strip. Burkons is currently in the U.S. attending the 2026 FIFA World Cup.
HRF is calling on U.S. authorities to investigate, arrest, and prosecute Burkons, prevent his departure from the country, and ensure accountability.
➡️ More → https://t.co/G0qiX5GCUy
In 2008, an Israeli sniper shot a 16 year old, Abed Abu Oida, in his spine, destroying three of his vertebrae and leaving him paralyzed and bleeding on the roof where he lay for 15 minutes before his younger brother found him.
The 13-year-old dragged Abed to the stairs and down into the family’s home. The invasion outside continued, preventing ambulances from coming for Abed. Three hours after his injury, the teen finally reached a hospital in Gaza City where doctors, after seeing his injury, were surprised to see the youth was still alive. Unable to provide adequate emergency care in Gaza, they immediately loaded him into an emergency transfer ambulance bound for the Rafah border crossing to Egypt.
https://t.co/TJs6DIRRw8
When months later I met Abed in a Cairo hospital, he was near-deathly emaciated, with appallingly large bedsores on his backside and feet. These festering bedsores—a result of the poor care he was given in the various Cairo hospitals he was shifted to—would be the cause of other ailments which plagued him and eventually caused his death. Isolated from his family who could not get Egypt’s permission to exit Gaza to be with their paralyzed son, Abed began to succumb to his injuries.
Egyptian activists I met in Cairo were helping Abed as much as they could.
He was then transferred back to Gaza, to the (then) al-Wafa Rehabilitation Hospital, where he was treated and slightly improved.
He was in that hospital, east of Gaza City, when the Israelis bombed the premises & buildings in January 2009, including with White Phosphorous. There were roughly 60 patients, nearly all of whom were either invalid or unconscious, unable to flee the shelling. Staff were able to move them to one wing of the small building away from the worst impact of the bombing.
When I visited days later, spongy blobs of the white phosphorous shells littered the complex grounds, bursting into intense flames anew when poked a little.
https://t.co/crAoCK4zoq
Hospital staff told me they had been on the phone throughout the evening of bombing, trying to coordinate via the ICRC with the Israelis, begging them to stop attacking the hospital. The Director also told me this had been the 4th time the Zionists had attacked the hospital. [That was in 2009, not 2023]
But some years later, in 2014, Abed succumed to the injuries he sustained in 2008.
He was a gentle young man who used to play football, also lift weights, and tried to live as normal a life as one could under the brutal, continually-expanding rule of foreign occupiers.
https://t.co/yzKCfdrfY3
Try to imagine just how many such accounts there are by now, since long before 2023...lives destroyed, families devastated, by the criminality of the Israelis who keep on killing civilians...
Posted by former US Congressman @AdamKinzinger on Facebook. Beautifully written, in both form and substance:
Hey everyone, happy Sunday. Are you ready for some good news? I know I am.
We are told, over and over, that America has gone cold on the rest of the world. That we have decided the people on the other side of the ocean are a threat to be kept out. That the welcome mat got rolled up and put away for good.
Then a soccer team from the North African nation of Algeria showed up in Lawrence, Kansas, and within a week the whole town was wearing green.
For today's Good News Sunday, I want to tell you about one of the best things happening in this country right now. It is happening at a soccer tournament, and it has almost nothing to do with soccer.
The World Cup is here, 48 teams playing across the United States, Canada, and Mexico. Each team in the tournament picks a base camp, one town to live and train in between matches. Germany set up shop in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Spain is training in Chattanooga, Tennessee. And Algeria, playing two of its games up the road at Arrowhead, picked Lawrence and made it home for the summer.
What the people of Lawrence did with that is the part I can't stop thinking about.
It started small, with a whole town of people who had never given Algeria much thought deciding, more or less overnight, that this was their team now. Flags went up in shop windows. Folks pulled on the green jerseys. People drove over just to catch a glimpse of the players. And then a local news crew stopped an older gentleman on a Lawrence sidewalk, standing in front of a storefront draped in a whole row of Algerian flags he had clearly just gone out of his way to find.
They asked him what he actually knew about the country whose colors he was flying. He grinned, paused for a beat, and said something along the lines of: not much yet — but we want to welcome you here. There is no agenda in that man. Nothing performative. Just a neighbor, thrilled to his bones that these strangers chose his town, and perfectly at ease with the fact that he has a lot left to learn about them.
The welcome only got bigger from there.
The University of Kansas, the state's flagship school that calls Lawrence home, sent its marching band out to the training ground. They had spent the previous days learning Algeria's national anthem, note for note, and they played it as the players walked out for practice. Think about what that means for a moment.
These men are thousands of miles from their families, living out of a hotel in the American Midwest, preparing for the biggest sporting event of their professional lives. And the first thing they hear when they step onto the grass is the sound of their own country's song, played by a hundred American college kids in red and blue who learned it just for them. Several of the players stopped walking. A few of them looked like they weren't sure what to do with themselves.
Algeria did its part, too. The team opened a training session to the public and spent the afternoon out on the grass with neighborhood kids, walking them through drills, signing autographs, posing for pictures. There are children from small-town America who are going to be telling the story of the day they trained with a World Cup team for the rest of their lives. And the Algerians have spent the last week calling themselves honorary Kansans, falling hard for a corner of a state most of them could not have found on a map two months ago.
But it's not just Lawrence.
This is happening all over the country, in towns you would never expect.
The city of Alexandria, Virginia threw a street festival with an evening of Croatian food and music, and wrapped a city bus in the team's red and white. After crowds in Spokane, Washington flocked to watch Egyptian superstar Mohamed Salah, a brand-new Egyptian restaurant in town suddenly had locals lining up for food most of them had never tasted. All told, 19 American communities that are not hosting a single match still raised their hand to take in a national team and call them neighbors for a month.
There is a story we get told constantly about who we have become. That Americans have soured on outsiders. That we have decided the rest of the world is a threat. That we look at people who do not talk like us or pray like us or come from where we come from and see a problem instead of a person.
And then a college town in Kansas goes and learns every note of a North African country's national anthem, just so a group of strangers feel at home for a few weeks. An old local stands in front of a row of its flags and tells them, in so many words: we don't know much about you yet, but we are awfully glad you came.
That is who we actually are when nobody is telling us to be afraid. The band on the field, playing somebody else's song as if it were their own. The neighbor who knows next to nothing about you and waves you in anyway. We forget it sometimes. The good news is that it takes about one afternoon to remember.
That, my friends, is good news for your Sunday.
— Adam
Görüntüler Batı Şeria'nın Nablus şehrine bağlı Hawwara kasabasından,israil askeri Filistin'li genci ailesinin yanında zorla kaçırmak istiyor, genç itiraz edince orada yargısız infaz yaparak katlediyor, dünya, israil terörünü konuşmuyor !
Watching the world lose its mind over the Knicks and the World Cup while Palestine is being destroyed and genocided in real time honestly infuriates me.
And before anyone says “sports bring people together,” I know. That's exactly the point. We clearly know how to care. We clearly know how to show up. We clearly know how to unite when we want to. So why is it easier for millions of people to memorize stats, argue over games, and spend hours watching a match than it is to speak up when human beings are being genocided in plain sight?
This feels like the Hunger Games, wallah. The privileged get to sit comfortably, drink a coke, eat a hotdog, cheer, celebrate, and move on, while other people in Palestine, Sudan, Lebanon, Yemen, Congo, Iran and more are searching for food, living in tents that flood, and fighting for their peoples liberation.
A fundamental principle being lost here - is that if you are charged with terrorism - you can defend yourself by explaining why you are not.
As the Filton 4 were never charged or found guilty of terrorism - the judge who sentenced them as terrorists -has denied them this right.
I see the "But they attacked & smashed a police officer's spine with a sledgehammer!" crew are out in force this morning. Illustrates the sheer power of our media to generate myths. The injury was 1. accidental & 2. so minor it didn't show up on X-ray & required only paracetemol.
The 1960s apartheid govt of South Africa labelled the ANC as terrorists and used a compliant judiciary to suppress their activists and supporters. Today's British govt uses the same tactics against Palestine Action and its supporters.
Here's a photo of Judge Quartus de Wet who sentenced Nelson Mandela to life in prison, alongside Judge Jeremy Johnson who yesterday sentenced four Palestine Action activists as terrorists, even though they were never charged with terrorism, because such a charge would've been thrown out by every jury in the land.
Johnson would have fitted in very well in South Africa's apartheid regime.
Jasser died without a sound, his name never appearing on any news page.
Jasser Ali Al-Hayya, a young child, died after swallowing rat poison, the "blue gel," that had been spread between the tents without any warning to the families in the Mufti camp north of Nuseirat. His mother says someone came and threw the blue poison between the tents without telling anyone; her son thought it was a sweet, a piece of Turkish delight, and ate it, and no one knew what had happened until the forensic examination, when they opened him up and found the piece in his stomach exactly as it was.
This danger has also crept into Gaza's marketplaces, with the poison reaching people through traders selling goods from the commercial trucks the Israeli occupation has allowed in, raising a real need for awareness campaigns to warn families about what is circulating around them. How long will this negligence and contempt for people's lives continue? At the very least the families should have been warned and made aware. A child in a tent, displaced and already stripped of almost everything, killed by poison laid among the tents where children play, is one more life treated as worthless under a genocide that has made even the ground between the tents unsafe. May God grant patience and reward to the Al-Hayya family.
This child lost his sight from birth as a result of inhaling internationally banned phosphorus, which was used by the Israeli occupation army.
Despite this, he lives in harsh humanitarian conditions inside a tent that lacks the most basic necessities of life, and he suffers from extreme heat every day.
Amid all this suffering, the child had a very simple dream: to ride in a car and go for a drive.
Today, we were able to fulfill one of his small dreams, and we saw joy filling his face and heart. Sometimes the simplest wishes are the most beautiful, and the simplest moments have the greatest impact on children’s lives.